Like many people around the world, I was shocked and saddened by the passing of David Bowie in January. It wasn’t that I listened to so much of Bowie’s music, but he had come to exemplify a unique and charismatic man through the interviews I’d read, the songs I knew and the part he played as The Goblin King in the movie, Labyrinth. Whenever I use the words ‘miasma’ and ‘gunge’, words that Bowie used to describe his 1970s self, I use them with him in mind.
Now, nearly three months on, Bowie’s death has led me to a dedicated discovery of his music – in particular, what I’ve got to so far, his prolific output from the 70s. Varied and unique, much of it both impressively catchy and timeless for how long ago it was made, Bowie appears in the post-haze of his life as the largely matchless figure he was, and the loss looms ever larger.