Last night David Bowie died, and you should be very, very, sad about this. He was a true warrior for art and culture if there ever was one. His legacy, one which you probably can’t clearly define because it’s everything, is present in every artist who believe boundaries are redundancies. Kanye to TV On The Radio, Jay Z to Young Thug. You too, probably. This really, really, sucks.
As the warrior that he was, in his 18 month battle with cancer, Bowie recorded one final album that serves as a self aware goodbye. He released it on Friday, which was his 69th birthday. It’s called Blackstar and it’s really, really, great. I’ve provided a link for it at the bottom. I implore (yes, implore) you to listen to give an hour of your time to listen to it, appreciate it, and mourn.
Generally, in the face of encroaching darkness, paranoia, fear and other murky emotions take hold. Blackstar in turn, is dignified, passionate, soulful, proud, and unafraid. A relentlessly creative product in tune with the impossibly talented savant we were all fortunate enough to share some time with on this rock. I assume he returned to his native planet somewhere in the galaxy now, but he left us a few divine artifacts. Cherish them.
Have a drink tonight. Roll a joint, maybe. Stare at the stars, definitely.
Farewell Starman, rest in peace.