I don’t know what to think about David Bowie dying. Should I even have a say?

Of all artists, I remember him in my humble rock ‘n roll beginnings but won’t reminisce. All futura, a tomorrows man. Blew his trumpet loud when he could.

What to consider?

...always back to them early days? What deep and sense-filled atmospheres. Made words fly and tumble. Cracked out what four minute songs should be. Ziggy, Hunky and Aladdin. Those and Heroes. Let’s Dance. What to say?

I’m not sure there’s anyone prior. Not popularly. Not in the UK. Not anyone, who on a retrospective, carried such cultural weight. Pop-wise. Or, gripped my little heart and soul.

He seemed so naturally most-modern. Not holding so much attention over the years, whilst his remaining private, seemed rightfully fitting. I’m curious to read what’s being written, lovers laments.

He was a fake - yet authentic, one/two dimensional but a careering kaleidoscope.

Certainly my first top of the pops. (Oh, just second to Bolan).

Wonder what he was trying to say? Or what kind of bloke? (That I should I be so nosy).

He said the 70’s was the world shaper of decades. Culturally, art-like. This never seemed a self-postulating claim. Simply somehow missed, in the ever-pushing 60’s love-up. Since the mid-80’s vultures have had too much of a hand in the biz. The ground, the world, too synthetic and troubled to leave us more like him. Pecularly unspoiled expressions.

Bowie and co came out of their time, albeit with him, simultaneously a-most-maker, of the times.

Today I’m going to start upping the number of TS posts but I’d like to ‘do the 70’s’. My plan was - now - is-again - is to map through each decade and look at how we became so de-politicised, and what pop music might have got to do with it?

For now, this ‘who reads/who cares’ splutter: David Bowie?

Serious, on the sensual - yes, liberator of sexuality. But not the exploited but respectful.

A vision-er, words wild and free.

I feel sad somehow. That runs through his sounds. Melancholy with room for those outside/rs. Gentle, hopeful. Remaining so very young. Searching. Tasteful. In all the bad trash in our charts, here’s the affirming. Childlike and beautiful trash. Musically, those early hot shots: Kick. Still rips.

Life-up. A proper star.

He did this. He asked. He looked. Told me lots.

Who needs my applause. But he gets them anyway.

Well done David Bowie. Well done.