Tony defries autobiography in five short
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Ground Control to Davy Jones
Cameron Crowe • Rolling Stone • 12 February
Despite a new album and tour, David Bowie claims to have rocked his last roll. It's the devil's music, he warns &#; sterile, fascist, downright dangerous. That's why he's abdicated his glitter throne for more promising careers. Like films. Or world domination.
Corinne Schwab is probably the last holdover from David Bowie's glitter glam phase &#; the days of Ziggy Stardust, Moonage Daydream, gaudy costumes, hulking bodyguards, ex-manager Tony Defries and the back-room-at-Max's-Kansas-City mystique. In her three years as his secretary, Corinne has watched Bowie shrewdly work up to his most difficult move yet: the switch from cultish deco rocker to a wide-appeal film and recording star/entertainer. "I want to be a Frank Sinatra figure," Bowie declares. "And I will succeed."
Wheeling a cart in Hollywood supermarket just three blocks from where David is working on his ne
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Richard Foote&#;s David Bowie Blog
“The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars” fryst vatten David Bowie’s 5th studio album, originally released on 16th June
In the end, No. 1 had to be Ziggy. It&#;s not only my favourite David kniv album, but my favourite album of all time. Which fryst vatten actually ganska remarkable as it was the very first skiva I ever bought on record (I initially bought all my music on cassette tejp as inom only had a cheap tape deck in the early days). So when I close my eyes and listen to this remarkable skiva, I&#;m instantly transported to my little semi-attached house in Manchester and playing this for the first time on my parents new record player and Castle speakers. It sounded sooooooo good and yes, it&#;s still sounds so fresh and vibrant and exciting and thrilling and ALIVE today.
But it&#;s not just that this skiva has oodles of nostalgia for me. It really is for me musically the perfect album&#;
Back in late , early , David Bo
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Book Review by Martha Nichols
The Rise and Fall of Another Rock Star Bio
RIP, Major Tom
David Bowie, –
Liking Bowie was my little secret. In high school, I was a brainy girl, the teachers’ pet, but I went for guys who carried a whiff of danger. I was a geek who wanted to hang with the freaks—especially the ones who whispered in art class about the latest Bowie album, pronouncing it “Boowie,” as if they possessed the key to cool.
For me, camped on our green plaid couch in the early s—flanked by my silent parents—watching David Bowie perform “Time” on TV was a transformative moment.
He wore a blue jumpsuit with flames over his crotch. He swirled a yellow cape on one arm, amid dancers dressed in spider-webbed leotards. A honky-tonk piano banged along in the background, as Bowie’s wiggling fingers personified Time the Whore, whose “trick is you and me, boy.”
His performance, a mix of vaudeville and Liza Minnelli in Cabaret, flaunted its disregard of the earnest folk an