I had to resign myself, many years ago, that I'm not too articulate when it comes to explaining how I feel about things. But my music does it for me, it really does. There, in the chords and melodies, is everything I want to say. The words just jolly it along. It's always been my way of expressing what for me is inexpressible by any other means.
"Any time you mix widely divergent audiences there's a potential for it not to go well," says Gary Bongiovanni, editor of the concert industry trade magazine Pollstar. "Certainly I don't know that a lot of Bowie's older fans will be ready for Nine Inch Nails. But I expect it will work fine. Nine Inch Nails fans probably don't care for Bowie's disco days, but his Ziggy Stardust-era music isn't that far from what they would embrace."
Originally released through RCA Victor on June 6, 1972, Ziggy Stardust was David Bowie's fifth album, co-produced by Bowie and Ken Scott. Incredibly, the album was conceived and written while Bowie was recording 1971's Hunky Dory album, with recording beginning months before that album's release. Recording took place at Trident Studios, London between November 8, 1971 and February 4, 1972, with the line-up of Mick Ronson (guitar, piano, backing vocals), Trevor Bolder (bass), Mick Woodmansey (drums) and Rick Wakeman, harpsichord on "It Ain't Easy" with backing vocals by Dana Gillespie on same. In addition to performing vocals, Bowie played guitar and saxophone on the album, with arrangements by Bowie and Ronson.
In 2003, David released an album entitled 'Reality.' The Reality Tour began in November 2003 and, after great commercial success, was extended into July 2004. In June 2004, David suffered a heart attack and the tour did not finish it's scheduled run. Reality is David's last tour and album to date. After recovering, David has not released any new music, but did a little acting. In 2006, he played Tesla in The Prestige (2006) and had a small cameo in the series "Extras" (2005). In 2007, he did a cartoon voice in "SpongeBob SquarePants" (1999) playing Lord Royal Highness. He has not appeared in anything since 2008 and stays home in New York with his wife and daughter.
‘I’ve certainly never used my father’s name as a way of getting a meeting,’ says Jones. ‘And fortunately, I’ve never needed to…’ That said, Jones clearly adores his dad and throughout our interview he talks of him with genuine affection, sharing anecdotes of a unique childhood spent loitering in the wings of vast stadia, while his father defined the musical tastes of a generation. But Jones is not, and never wanted to be, Bowie Mark II. Music wasn’t his passion – film-making is. And it is testimony to Bowie that he nurtured and supported his son, helping him find his own creative path through life.
Heathenism is a state of mind. You can take it that I'm referring to one who does not see his world. He has no mental light. He destroys almost unwittingly. He cannot feel any Gods presence in his life. He is the 21st century man.
Pattinson's subtle, complex performance is on par with David Bowie's commanding turn in the 1976 film, "The Man Who Fell to Earth," said Crouse. Much like Bowie's character, Thomas Jerome Newton, Pattinson creates an otherworldly figure who lives out his days in an equally rarefied and bizarre environment. Pattinson's complex and mature performance in "Cosmopolis" will surprise his fans and his critics.
"Outside" began in early 1994 with a sort of a fact-finding mission by Mr. Bowie and Mr. Eno to the Gugging psychiatric hospital near Vienna, where they interviewed and photographed its celebrated artist-patients. The artwork of these men ("massively free and improvised," Mr. Bowie said), sometimes referred to as Outsider Art, had a powerful influence on production strategies for the new record. The recording sessions for "Outside" began immediately afterward, and even included some of the artistic materials favored by the Gugging's residents. "I made sure there were lots of paints and charcoals and drawing things around," Mr. Bowie recalled, "so that people could just stay in a place they wouldn't normally be in in a recording studio."
"I blew my nose one day and half my brains came out." With these gentle words, David Bowie said farewell to L.A., where he'd spent much of the mid-Seventies buried up to his clavicle in white powder, and fled back to Europe for some personal detox — not to mention some of the most amazing music of his amazing career. Low, released in January 1977, was a new beginning for Bowie, kicking off what is forever revered as his "Berlin trilogy," despite the fact that Low was mostly recorded just outside Paris. Side One consists of seven fragments, some of them manic synth-pop songs, some just chilly atmospherics. Side Two consists of four brooding electronic instrumentals.
This kind of paranoid, drug-fuelled rambling would become typical of David Bowie interviews over the next 18 months. In February 1975, Creem's Bruno Stein reported on an evening spent in an unspecified American hotel room with the singer and his entourage. Bowie talks at length--to others in the room, rather than Stein, who, it seems, is merely an observer--about watching for UFO's ("I made sightings six, seven times a night for about a year"), Mayan civilisation, media control and "cultural manipulation", and Nazism, in which Bowie was beginning to develop an unhealthy interest that would manifest itself, a year later, in one of the most notorious incidents of his career.
Of these the most interesting must be Nicolas Roeg’s The Man Who Fell to Earth (1976), starring David Bowie as a humanoid alien confronting the weirdness and excesses of American society. It divides critics, many of whom find the film visually dazzling but its narrative muddled and confusing. In his feature film debut, Bowie is gaunt and androgynous, with alabaster skin and bright orange hair. (Check the cover of his album Low for reference; Bowie wrote part of the album as a possible soundtrack for the film, but it was rejected.) He was using cocaine heavily - 10g a day by his own admission - and was in a fragile state. On the plus side, the drugs gave him a blank, alienated look and emaciated features. The story goes that when he developed a craving for ice cream during the shooting of the film and started putting on weight, he had to be dissuaded from eating it.
In this ever-shifting musical refraction there are glimpses of Stanley Kubrick (the title track – originally recorded in Bowie’s bedroom –is inspired by the film 2001: A Space Odyssey), and Muddy Waters (the harmonica and blues rhythm in ‘‘Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed’’ - another song about being an outsider, or as Bowie himself puts it ‘A phallus in pig-tails’). Dylan's influence looms in the social commentary '’God Knows I'm Good’' and the yearning '’Letter to Hermione’' – an ode to the girlfriend Bowie lost the very year the album was born; whilst the poetry of Jack Kerouac and Alan Ginsberg appears in the aching ‘’Cygnet Committee’’ (‘I bless you madly, sadly as I tie my shoes’).
If one element above all others recurs throughout Bowie's career, it is the ongoing sci-fi shtick that infuses his most celebrated characters, from Major Tom and Ziggy Stardust to The Man Who Fell to Earth and Earthling. He has always professed to believe firmly in the existence of extraterrestrial life, and his fascination with everything from UFO sightings to Ridley Scott's Blade Runner is well documented. Even so, as Bowie has often insisted, the alien characters of his early songs merely exploit outer space as a metaphor for his own inner space: "They were metaphysically in place to suggest that I felt alienated," he explained in 1997, "that I felt distanced from society and that I was really in search of some kind of connection."
There were darker shadows in Peggy's past too. In 1986 David's aunt Pat--"the frightful aunt," as he later termed her--detailed the troubled history of the Burns family. Peggy's siblings included three sisters--Nora, Una, and Vivienne--who, according to Pat, suffered from varying degrees of mental instability, what one writer termed the Burn's "family affliction." This history later inspired the theory that David Jones was forced to construct alter egos to distance himself from the madness within. Ken Pitt, David's manager, knew David, Peggy, and Pat as well as anyone and describes this theory as "unconvincing."
Unlike the demographics of Brixton, which was predominantly a white, middle-class enclave in the years just after World War II, this home is static. In another fifty-two years, while jet packs and flying cars travel overhead, one can imagine it looked exactly the same. There's no brass plaque here marking David Bowie's birth, but it is, nonetheless, a landmark, one pristinely preserved whether by design, accident, simple lack of means or inclination. That David Robert Jones came into the world here at 9 AM on January 8, 1947, is hardly unique; many children in the late forties were born at home and not in a hospital. Midwives were summoned once the water broke, as one would call a plumber or policeman.
Who’s David Bowie? The guy with a different look and a take for every year of his career, from the “plastic soul” of 1976 to the peroxided MTV star of 1982 to the contemplative electronic godfather of 1999. Bowie is too clever and talented ever to fade away, at least without meaning to. He plays his current part so well that it’s almost hard to imagine he used to cut a threatening, divisive figure by assuming the role of sexually ambiguous—but sexually aggressive—space alien come to save the Earth by seducing its youth one concert venue at a time. Maybe.