David Bowie was my hero. Each one of us has our own personal pantheon of inspirational figures; some venerate sports stars or actors. To simply say that the man inspired me seems insufficient, the written word incapable of grasping the impact he had upon me. When Bowie returned from seclusion for 2013’s The Next Day, I was jubilant. “Here I am, not quite dying.” I took that to be an allusion to the story of Christ.
I don’t care if it’s old news by now; I’m going to talk about David Bowie. I can’t say anything about his life, on stage or off, that hasn’t already been said, so I’m going to talk about what he meant to me as an artist. This is by no means a summary of his life, or a compendium of his deeds, or even a tribute. This is simply about how his work impacted my life and how it continues to do so. My initial introduction to Bowie wasn’t anything special.