I never discovered David Bowie

I’m not going to write a eulogy to David Bowie, because frankly, who am I to write it. I was born twenty-three years after Space Oddity came out, a decade after Let’s Dance, and I didn’t even manage to get tickets for the epic exhibition at the V&A.

Still from the V & A's David Bowie Is exhibition, 2013

I don’t know what it’s like to ‘discover’ Bowie. I’ve loved many people’s excitable memories of it being shared today. It sounds like an exceedingly special experience. As someone who wasn’t there anywhere near the beginning, Bowie’s vast catalogue of eye-opening music, magical style and multiple exotic personas has, in my life, always just been there. A fact, like gravity. His genius was unquestionable and self-evident, always.

I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know all the words to Ziggy Stardust, imitating his pronunciation of ‘spiders’ and ‘mi-i-i-ind’ along with my air guitar, delighting in the drama and glamour.

I’ve never not wanted to swim like the dolphins can swim.

I’ve always know that a hot tramp is the most desirable, decadent thing anyone could ever be.

Ziggy played guitar ...

The worlds he created in his music aren’t just marvellous through the eyes of a child. They’ve continued to enchant and romance me as I’ve grown up, and hearing of his death today was oddly unnerving. Like losing a safety blanket. Thankfully, just his music was a simple fact of life for me 20 years after its release, so it will be for years to come. I don’t believe the magic will ever fade. Let's put on our red shoes and dance the blues...

The beautiful music of David Bowie. Rest in peace.