David Bowie was always there.
He was one of the artists that were on my parents’ rotation when I was growing up. My dad always loved him (and always told the story of how his band technically supported Bowie when they played a university gig in the 60s). I really loved some of his music, really liked some of it, didn’t like some of it, but never questioned its validity. I grew up with his sound and vision, his brilliant voice, and honestly I never really realised he was ‘weird’. Sure, he didn’t look like everyone else, but he was David Bowie, so he didn’t have to.
I remember being very young and being confused about who Ziggy Stardust was. I really thought he was a separate person from David Bowie.
Certain Bowie songs give my goosebumps. The voice. The guitar. The love, and the pain.
My dad got me a Best of Bowie double album (two CDs!) that I played over and over. This meant I only really knew the singles and hits, so when I was a bit older I started exploring the individual albums (something I am still doing).
So far Ziggy Stardust is still my favourite. ‘Moonage Daydream’ give my goosebumps. For some reason ‘Five Years’ makes me feel really emotional, but I don’t know why.
My sister and I utterly love David Bowie, and always will. In our family, being weird was considered a good thing if anything. My dad, the lifelong Bowie fan, instilled in us the fact that normal was boring. Have fun, be different. David Bowie always seemed to do this, when he was young and as he got older. Being older didn’t seem to matter. He was still as cool as ever.
He will always be there.