Remembering David Bowie

Last night's news of David Bowie's passing hit me hard. I was devastated. Many of you know I've been seriously ill for a month or so, but I've been making forward progress and trying to be positive - but this loss was a physical blow and crushed my spirits. I loved and love Bowie, he was a favorite, an idol, an inspiration, and the man marked my life.

My first exposure to Bowie, and also to the offensive gay epithet that starts with an F, was when I saw the "Little Drummer Boy (Peace on Earth)" duet with Bing Crosby originally air. I remember seeing him on "Soul Train," and in drag and as a puppet on "Saturday Night Live." "DJ" from Lodger (which I had on 8-track) was probably the first proper music video I ever saw, another field in which Bowie was a pioneer.

I remember vividly the first times I heard many of his songs. "Golden Years," "Cat People," "Station to Station," "I'm Afraid of Americans," "Let's Dance," "Sound and Vision," and a dozen others all hold specific memories for my first listens. How many other artists or songs can one say that about?

I saw Bowie once, during his Glass Spider tour. Squeeze opened, and both Peter Frampton and Toni Basil were part of his entourage on stage, but Bowie shined like a supernova in that dying and falling apart JFK Stadium. He was mesmerizing and amazing, a burning, singing, dancing light enthralling the thousands there. I'll never forget it.

This weekend, the weekend of both his birthday and death, was filled with Bowie for me. I watched him on "Storytellers" telling tales and performing for a small audience songs from his then-new album Hours. I also finally got around to listening to Blackstar, a fabulous collection. In an iTunes age when one can just cherry pick the songs one likes, I preordered Blackstar in its entirety as I have Bowie's last few.

And today I am crushed, numb, and indescribably sad. Rest in peace, man, I love you, you changed my life.
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A slightly different version of this appears at Biff Bam Pop!. Please pop over there for more remembrances of David Bowie by the staff there.

Don Cornelius 1936-2012

Don Cornelius was found dead this morning by police, apparently from a self-inflicted gunshot wound. The creator and first host of the long-running "Soul Train" will be missed.

Now you're probably asking yourself what this white boy from the suburbs knows about Don Cornelius or "Soul Train," well, I'll tell you - a lot. As a kid, and even now as an adult, I am always looking for new music. The AOR semi-metal and bubble gum pop everyone else listened to in high school got old quick for me (I've talked about this before here), so I looked elsewhere. I traveled the radio dial, and I watched all the music shows, including Don's famous train, that I first encountered on UHF channel 48.

"Soul Train" was different. It was a dance show, yeah, but it had more of an edge to it than "American Bandstand," "The Music Thing" (does anyone else remember that?) or the much later "Dancin' On Air." I was on the Train when I was really young, pre-disco, and I trusted The Don to introduce me to new acts and new types of music. Soul, R & B, and Urban Contemporary (if we must use labels) all flowed into my head like wonderful ear candy. And even though Don was slow to let the rappers on stage, when the gates opened, he brought on all the greats. His distaste for the new sound never showed on the mike, he was always professional.

Don was The Man, and I mean The Man in the best way possible. He saw a television market without a musical outlet for his people and their music, so he created it. He opened up a whole new world for everyone with "Soul Train," even dumb white boys from the suburbs. Thanks, Don.