On Sunday, the world lost a musical giant in David Bowie, who died of cancer at 69. He was the first artist who that made me a true music fan. Like buy all the records, read the biographies, hang-posters-on-the-wall type fan. I grew up with a love for Motown music, especially Smokey Robinson, the Supremes, and the Four Tops, that I still have, but my appreciation for that music came from listening to my parent's records.
When it came time to choose my own artists, other kids were into Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd, but Bowie emerged as my guy. He was later followed by bands like R.E.M., the English Beat, and The Cure, among others, as I moved into more of the college radio scene, and I really liked Joan Jett, but Bowie was always The Guy. My fandom started with an album I poached from my aunt, Heroes. I also got ahold of David Live (1974), and then worked my way back before going forward. The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, Space Oddity, The Man Who Sold the World, Aladdin Sane, Diamond Dogs, and Hunky Dory were the next to follow. I even own a copy of the Christmas record featuring David Bowie and Bing Crosby.
Let's Dance came out in 1983. It was a hit, and yet criticized for being too mainstream. I was twelve, and thought it was great. I still do, though in a very different way than much of his other work. The connected tour for the album, the Serious Moonlight Tour, featured Bowie in a bow tie. I thought it was the coolest thing. I bought one and learned to tie it myself. I still have the tie, and I wore it to teach my first Business Organizations class of the semester on Tuesday (and my Energy Business Law and Strategy course). Contrary to what some want to believe now that E. Gordon Gee is the president of my institution, bowties originated with Bowie for me, not President Gee. (And yes, it is likely that only a law professor could connect someone as cool as Bowie with bowties, and probably only this law professor.)
I write this as much for me, as anything, I suppose, but a few things about David Bowie strike me as relevant to this blog. First, he was always ahead of his time, looking for what was next. He didn't back down, he said what he thought in a strong, but usually respectful way. He was, unfortunately, well ahead of his time in criticizing MTV for its lack of programing diversity. Not so much for calling them out — others did that, too — but in the way he did it, as you can see here.
His eye for talent was remarkable, too. David Sanborn played sax on David Live. Luther Vandross sang backup on Young Americans. Stevie Ray Vaughn played on Let's Dance, and Reeves Gabrels (now with The Cure) with Tin Machine. Adrian Belew played on Lodger. Bowie, in turn, sang back up and played sax on Lou Reed's Transformer. And his work with Iggy Pop, Queen, Tina Turner, Trent Reznor, and others crossed genres and time.
Finally, he tried creative financial vehicles. As one report explains,
In 1997, Bowie, born David Robert Jones, securitized revenue from 25 albums (287 songs) released before 1990. At the same time, he swapped distribution rights on his back catalogue for a $30 million advance on future royalties in a deal with EMI. The 10-year “Bowie Bond” he created with banker David Pullman promised a 7.9% return and raised $55 million, along with a media frenzy. A flurry of other artists followed, but the Bowie Bonds skidded toward junk status by 2004, downgraded by Moody’s from A3 to Baa3.
The trend never really took off, though. Despite never missing a payment, the bonds did not do well, though that did not appear to hurt Bowie. People got worried about online music sharing soon after the deal was struck. Still, the idea of monetizing intangible assets, was rather forward looking, even if some believe that loans, and not bonds, are the better suited to assets like music. For Bowie, in music and otherwise, new things were worth trying, even if they didn't always go as planned. I still wished I'd gotten in on that deal, regardless. I always felt like I missed out.
I know Bowie is something of an acquired taste for some (and an unacquirable one for others), but the outpouring of support following his death shows a tremendous amount of respect and admiration. He may even get his first U.S. number one album with his Blackstar album, which was recently released. Some believe the track Lazarus and the related video were his goodbye to the world. It's hard to argue it's not.
He will be missed, but I'm glad his legacy provides such a tremendous body work. I think the Sirius/XM Bowie channel should be permanent, and not just a limited-run engagement.
As I write this, I got a notice that Alan Rickman, also 69, has died of cancer. Cancer sucks. As David Bowie noted in this short, but poignant, interview from 2002, "Life is a finite thing." It sure is.