In the wake of the tragic loss of legendary pop star David Bowie, we at WVAU had a lot of feelings and wanted to provide some of our writers and DJs with an outlet to voice those feelings. Read on for a montage of emotions, exaltations, and expressions of life and death, love and loss.
For the man who sold the world:
David Bowie, a man of many personas, graced the world with his talents in music, film, and fashion. He always seemed to be in a part of another world—one where art, sexuality and gender were expressed boldly and freely. He took artistic risks and reinvented himself a number of times, while creating a safe space within the strange changes for fans. The death of our beloved Bowie has many of us reflecting on his contribution to not only the music industry, but to our personal lives. Whether we’re in a groovy “Let’s Dance” kind of mood or “You Feel So Lonely You Could DieÛ, Bowie gave us tunes that we can connect to—especially those who feel like outsiders. His music was dynamic, taking influences from American funk, German prog rock, glam rock, pop, and more, he created a story about the human condition detailing feelings of isolation, addiction, and curiosity for a greater perhaps. On his birthday, his final, jazz-based album Blackstar was released which was nothing short of greatness in my opinion. The fact that he continued his music career while battling cancer up until his death speaks volumes for his relentless passion and evolution.
He will be remembered as an icon, for non-binary people especially, making androgyny a mode of fashion in the 60’s which popularized unisex clothing and encouraged self-acceptance. Recently a quote from Bowie has been circulating that describes feeling puny as a human and the idea of being a superhuman sounded like a much better deal. And that’s what he was. Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane, Thin White Duke, every part of you has made living on this blue planet better. I don’t know where you’ve gone from here, but I know it isn’t boring. Rest in space, Starman.
On my 19th birthday, I was given the coolest birthday present I’ve ever gotten. My best friend painted me a simple red lightning bolt with a blue glitter accent. It now resides over my bed, where I see it to begin each day. This past Monday morning wasn’t particularly great to begin with. Rolling out of bed for my first 8:55 class of the semester, I was met with a flood of texts reading, “I’m so sorry,” and “are you okay?” I was confused until my tired eyes found the headline, “Bowie dead at 69.” I looked back up at the painting above my bed and the tears fell.
From a young age I’ve idolized David. My favorite movie growing up was the Labyrinth, which my mother forced my siblings and I to watch because of her massive love of the Goblin King. Bowie’s greatest hits played in my car on a loop—again, thanks Mom. As I got older, my love for David matured and grew as I began to understand how important his career has been to me. I consider myself to be a weird ginger musician, and David Bowie made that coolest thing I could possibly be. Space Oddity taught me about story telling through song, while Heroes continues to make me feel emotions I can’t find elsewhere. The range and depth of his musical catalogue is simply wild.
While we’ll all miss Davy Jones, Starman, and Ziggy Stardust, behind all of the personas and alter-egos is a lifetime of incredible music that I feel so blessed to have forever. I will forever be grateful that David Bowie shared his talent with us, and shared it in the way that he did.
Although he has left Planet Earth, as of January 10th, 2016, I think it’s safe to answer David’s question… there is definitely life on Mars.
– Madden Mcdonagh
When any famous celebrity dies, it’s difficult to abstain from making it about oneself—it’s almost instinctive to make self serving posts on social media, seemingly competing with one another to see who is more heartbroken by the death of such a figure. But David Bowie is so ingrained in my identity that I can’t even separate my own self with my love of Bowie.
Growing up as a closeted queer in the small-town Pennsylvania, David Bowie’s music was my bible. I can map out my life by whatever David Bowie album I was listening to with at the time. His songwriting was at times surreal and abstract, but at the same time remained cohesive with a very human, empathetic angle to it. His music was both frightening and tremendously comforting. David Bowie’s 1977 album, Low, opened the door for me to explore audio technology, and is the very reason I’m pursuing that major at this school. I honestly cannot fathom who or where I would be without him.
I am not ready to live in a Bowie-less world. His poise, his songwriting, performance, fashion, cadence, and film work all suggest an otherworldly quality, like he transcended rock-star status and had an almost Christ-like mystery about him that I never grew tired of.
– Thomas Edwards