COLLECTIBLE TIME: ROLLING STONE'S DAVID BOWIE SPECIAL EDITION

I found a neato item on a sojourn for my wife's prescriptions: a Rolling Stone commemorative, David Bowie issue. 

The collector's edition contains articles by Kurt Loder, Cameron Crowe, Rob Sheffield, Brian Hiatt, Mikal Gilmore, David Browne and Timothy Ferris. The contents and analyses span Bowie's glittery career, covering his Space Oddity/Major Tom phase, Ziggy Stardust, the Thin White Duke, the ubiquitous, MTV '80s and beyond. 

Bowie's masterful music is explored throughout the majority of the edition, with emphasis on such praised and popular albums as The Man Who Sold the World, Hunky Dory, Aladdin Sane, Diamond Dogs, Low, Heroes, Pin Ups, Young Americans, Station to Station, Lodger, Scary Monsters, Let's Dance, Tin Machine I & II ... and Blackstar. 

Along with these classic albums, several of Bowie's movies are featured (Just a Gigolo, The Man Who Fell to Earth, The Hunger and Labyrinth), teamed with his imaginative videos, television, guest appearances and superstar collaborations, including his famous, Christmas pairing with Bing Crosby. 

Bowie's knack for style (often outlandish and sometimes just downright classy) is documented, accompanied by aspects of his personal life, which encompasses his marriages, general struggles and the woeful period that led to his untimely passing. 

The David Bowie: Special Rolling Stone Edition may not be the most comprehensive offering on the man and his legend, but it works as a satisfying sampling of his iconic stature and rousing, creative contributions. Any true, Bowie fan must purchase it, and all serious, music lovers must add it to their libraries. 

Rolling Stone's Bowie tribute is available at bookstores, drugstores and supermarkets nationwide. 

I saw Moonage Daydream...

Moonage Daydream, written/directed/produced by Brett (Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck) Morgen (now available on HBO Max), is an extraordinary documentary about an extraordinary performer, David Bowie (aka David Jones). Morgan's metaphoric, night-vs-day structure is jarring to the extreme, but then so was (and is) Bowie, with elements of his past and future juxtaposing over the presented decades to form a fascinating, multifaceted portrait.

Bowie, as the documentary implies, was a man content being at odds, even when he dared to sidestepped the odds (hiding in less known places, so that he might nurture his artistry). In this respect, Bowie, through archived recordings, acknowledges and accepts life's ever flanking chaos as a part of the world and therefore makes it a propellent for artistic freedom, even when that freedom proves elusive. 

Bowie's bouts with life's chaotic swings often come during his Ziggy Stardust era, bucking a streamlined system with ambiguous, alien charm. At other times, as with Bowie's successful 1980s phase, he faces those who yet wish him to remain outlandish, even though he's more content playing a suave performer who simply wants to make people happy. 

Morgen arranges such opposing forces through ebbing (and sometimes clashing) imagery. For example, Bowie's androgynous stretch contains flecks of his later years (a hint of the "normality" yet to come), but in his later years (wherein a Duran Duran aura enshrouds him), clips of his glaring glitz intercede, if only to remind viewers that this is the same person, only refueled in different ways for different purposes. 

Classic songs tie much of the footage and interview fragments together, which include the titular track, Space Oddity, Ashes to Ashes, Life on Mars?, Heroes, Aladdin Sane, Let's Dance, Modern Love and Changes. Scenes from Bowie's movies also abet the informative structure: The Man Who Fell To Earth, Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence and Labyrinth, as well as his gleeful, Weird Science-inspired, Pepsi commercial, costarring Tina Turner. 

Though the documentary spans two-and-a-half  hours, that's not nearly enough to cover all aspects of Bowie's astounding career, but it's still impressive how much Morgen manages to layer so many details throughout the restrictions, including a section on Bowie's paintings and his mastery of mimery. That Morgen strikes so many significant chords through such an offbeat, bohemian format is quite an accomplishment in its own right, for the product's ambivalence is not only as unique as its spotlighted artist, but it capitulates Bowie's penchant for orderly disorder through each poetic sample. (It may not make sense at a glance, but over the long haul, Morgen's intent couldn't be essayed any other way.) 

By the time the credits roll, Moonage Daydream leaves one even more appreciative of one of the great, influential eccentrics of our time. Those who know and respect Bowie will have nothing but praise for the experiment, as it keeps the man and his legend alive and all without apology, smashing the mundane from each dark and euphoric end. To say the least, that's dear ol' David Bowie in an overflowing nutshell. 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, FREDDY, FROM UNCLE MIKE (GET ME TO THE CHURCH ON TIME!)

 

FAREWELL, DAVID BOWIE...

Farewell, David Bowie...

You were truly the Starman in every way, inspiring us with your celestial songs and otherworldly portrayals. You are undoubtedly part of a higher existence now...but then, you always were. Godspeed, wherever you may go...