“My entire career, I’ve only really worked with the same subject matter. The trousers may change, but the actual words and subjects I’ve always chosen to write with are things to do with isolation, abandonment, fear and anxiety, all of the high points of one’s life.”
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This much-quoted statement from 2002, in an interview with Associated Press, sums up the transcendent appeal of David Bowie. The extraordinary personas, the shifting faces, the relentless exploration of musical style are in themselves only tangential to why he spoke to so many people. It was his uncanny ability to pinpoint our deep-seated vulnerabilities and tease them out in song that made him perhaps the most important white man in rock’n’roll since Bob Dylan and Elvis Presley.
Ballarat artists speak about why Bowie was a profound influence on their work.
Mick Trembath, musician.
“I first heard Bowie on Countdown doing Ashes to Ashes when I was 10. The film clip scared the s--t out of me. It was all chroma-key effects and had this weird,blurred ripped, colour edge to it. I’d never seen anything like it. Couldn’t bear to look and couldn’t look away. It was totally unlike all the other bands just miming songs. Most bands in Australia then had some sort of integrity but no real style. When I saw Bowie it was something else, something that had a bigger and more complete art sense around it.
“I stole the riff from Jean Genie and play it at nearly every gig. (Bowie stole it from a bunch of old blues guys but I like how he squared up the beat without losing the riff.) My favourite Bowie had that great 70s sound, melodramatic, layered, big flat wound string bass and a huge sense of theatre. I suppose it’s the character element that I like about his music. People want to see a show. People want to see something new. People want to go “Jesus…what the f--k was that?”. A show.
“Boys Keep Swinging is my favourite song. I first saw it on the Kenny Everett Video Show. It seems to be a parody of the whole macho 70s/80s man thing; a great way to slip a song about gay culture through the censors and I thought it was very cool and funny. The back-up singers are this mix of typical dolly bird and some old drag queens. All played totally straight. I also love the high harmonies he does on Lou Reed’s Satellite of Love.
“My favourite Bowie period is late 70s because I love that sound and production. Thumpy bass, scuzzy Les Paul guitars, drummers who play the beat… that’s the sound of my childhood.
“I liked Bowie because he was smart. It’s his intelligence that I liked, because many of his songs had layers, jokes and comments that are the complete opposite of what you hear at first. That mutability, that idea you can be something new musically every week if you wanted, you don’t have to be one thing or shelved into a genre. I think that’s really his legacy for me. You wouldn’t have Gaga without Bowie.
“I think what I found to be the genius of Bowie his ability in invest in the world of a song. Heroes is like a Greek play. These huge majestic mythic images (complete with back-up singers) that you float away on - but if you look behind it, it’s full of despair and impossibility. Bowie sells it like it’s the last song he’ll ever sing. It’s not just the lyrics, it’s the entire musical piece: a timeless yearning to be special and immortal in a three-minute pop song; a singer so impassioned but echoed by being seemingly bored, going through the paces. You just don’t get that much any more in music. That’s what made Bowie brilliant for me.”
Lily Mae Martin, visual artist.
“I’m an 80's kid, so I first really remember him from (the film) Labyrinth - I was scared of him but also really drawn to him because of his outfit and songs. Ashes to Ashes also really sticks out for me - Bowie was just always there - reinventing himself over and over
“As an artist, I always feel pressure to fit into some kind of category, to fit in; and Bowie is the proof to just be authentic in your art. Be brave, experiment.
“Ziggy Stardust is my favourite period, because it's wild, an alter ego. But really, I get something out of all periods of his work.
“I'm in awe that he made work right up until his death, I'm in complete awe. I'm also very sad because someone has lost their husband and their father.”
Susie Surtees, writer
“I heard Space Oddity in 1969. I was 16, in the second last year of high school, in that malleable stage of shaping an adult identity, fed by conversations, by what I was listening to, by what I was reading. It’s essential teenage work, breaking from cultural norms, exploring the meaning of existence as a species and as individuals, even if we aren’t yet fully aware of the ontological experiment we’re all part of.
“Musically, I’d been most influenced until then by raw blues and jazz stories, and by philosopher singer-songwriters like Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen. Then came David Bowie with his allegorical lyrics, his costumes and his presence—unlike any other performer. Back then I probably experienced him viscerally more than intellectually, because of his arresting physical presence, and his hypnotic ‘outsider’ appeal. And I wasn’t sure if I liked him.
“But he challenged me, forced me to re-examine what it meant to be alive. We all wanted to flee mediocrity and here he was, the personification of its opposite. Along with other rule-breakers, he gave generations of us permission to embrace difference, to live according to our own scripts.
“I was never a slavish Bowie fan, but kept up with his work and what was happening in his life. Looking back, I see him as a protean figure fully aware of his pivotal role in cultural change—a mutable, fluid artist constantly looking both into the mirror of self, and out at the world. Like a sponge, he absorbed everything—constantly self-conceptualised, recalibrated. He made his body a canvas via costume, wrote lyrics designed to crack open belief systems. Defying categorisation was his only consistency.”
Tristan James, No Lights No Lycra Ballarat
“I was probably 15 and watching a music doco late one night on the ABC. I think it was Dancing in the Streets. It was all about live performances and I was blown away by how theatrical he was. His costumes, his hair, the way he moved. It wasn't long after that I bought Ziggy Stardust on vinyl in Melbourne, one of the first records I ever bought, and it quickly became my favourite. It was probably quite a bit later that I realised that this music was by Jareth from Labyrinth, which I'd seen a few times and loved.
“I don't know about art, but he's influenced my life! We named our son Bowie. He's 6 now. It was devastating having to tell him the news yesterday. As a DJ his songs have always been staples in my sets. Let's Dance, Dance Magic Dance, Jean Genie...
“The Ziggy Stardust period would have to be my favourite. I can't really put into words why, I've always just been entranced by it. I remember one night watching the Ziggy Stardust live video over and over again. When it finished we would rewind it and watch it again.
“All that said, it is hard to pick a favourite. My copy of Blackstar on vinyl arrived in the mail a couple of hours before I heard the news yesterday. I've listened to it a few times and it's great; it will take on a whole new dimension now.”
Suzanne McRae, sculptor
“I haven't any real memory of being aware of Bowie for the first time... his music and character just seeped into my world without me noticing. Mum used to record every episode of Off The Record on TV and Bowie was just among everything else.
“But there was always something higher class about it, better quality than a lot of the drivel and mash. A bit of refinement and eye on the truth, with wonder and a sneer. I wasn't inspired or a fan, but I was appreciative and would always tip my hat to his style and bluntness.
“The tune that stands out for me is Fashion, because it was used as the soundtrack for the footage of a fashion parade I designed in Melbourne. I found his scarily handsome appearance alongside his sentimental, familiar and very human topics to be a shining standout.”
Kat Pengelly, fashion designer
“Bowie: beauty, majesty, experimental maestro. A musician and androgynous style icon with a grace and clarity of his own. His sounds washed over me in the 70s. I began to pay attention to him in the 90s. Stylistically I like Bowie's Aladdin Sane persona, some of those outfits would be considered modern if they were created now. My favorite Bowie song is Golden Years for its rich vocals, bouncy music and lyrics that inspire me to polish my own life.”
Hap Hayward, musician.
“For me Bowie was sort of handed to me by my older brother Steve. It was a rite of passage thing. The album we had was Changes, a best of from the late 70s. Before Bowie it was the Beatles pretty much on the record player. My theory is that the world needed someone like Bowie to come along after the Beatles.
“Things ended with them in a kind of dull, sad black-and-white image with the music stripped back to reveal that there was no more magic to be shared. And then you have Bowie. Changes is the song for me, great lyrics full of empathy for teenagers everywhere and then that BIG rock chorus telling us all to ‘face the strange’!
“And I loved him in the movie Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence. He had this capacity to be a man but appear quite beautiful too, not in that macho Hollywood way. He was there for a lot of confused and lonely teenagers when it came to things like sexual identity and their place in the world. He was an artist who used pop music like people would use paint. Morrissey is my musical hero and I'm pretty sure Bowie was his.”