David Bowie
My Death

THE REVIEW

Ah Riccardo you hated Bowie... That Bowie was the one who had killed classic rock... And certified the end of the sixties...

Enthusiasm (being filled with god) is always followed by decay, and from an artistic point of view, it's a good thing... After all, we, we are decadence... and if anyone disagrees, amen... or trallalà, take your pick...

Thus, after those two to three weeks of joy, ecstasy, and whatever else, everyone was out of their minds. And the more experienced ones stepped aside...

Like Dylan, who had closed Blonde on Blonde with his most expansive delirium; remember he spoke of a sad-eyed lady of the lowlands, then the line above, enough, stop... Tradition if anything... The dear old archetypes... And maybe that's where the sixties ended...

Or they started to end, your choice again...

Decay and paranoia then... like the Velvet and the dark forest (New York probably)

And for the masses, Bowie... but here there was nothing dark, at least on the surface

Oh it was something between the ridiculous and the magical... exciting, fabulous, colorful... even childish...

Then, suddenly, an interlude, a salvific and necessary pause in the midst of that raucous cabaret.

A funny shiny being, a folkie upon closer inspection, wielded the acoustic guitar and sang unexpected words... sang Brel...

And unexpectedly rock (rock?) became adult again...

To be honest, there was a lot of Brel even in “Rock'n'roll Suicide” with that rude life entering through the window and the almost religious inevitability of everyday things.

And even with that “my sweethearts, you are not alone,” almost a quotation.

Here, however, the glitz and glam splendor, Bowie dressed in blue, were truly wonderfully jarring... and the words like carved in stone...

Those words, like all counterweights, had the taste, color, beauty of necessity...

And they were beautiful... look for them and you will agree with me... maybe even giving some sense to this crappy review...

You would never have expected such a number from that magnetic red-haired fool...