I grew up listening to the music of Bowie.
Not by choice initially. I used to go and see my dad at the weekend and one of my brothers lived with him. He is ten years older than me and I used to basically worship the ground he walked on.
His bedroom was a place of awe for my seven year old self, with guitars, records, tapes – cool stuff. He influenced my love of records and I was taught from an early age how to carefully take a record out of it’s sleeve, how to clean it whilst it was still moving on the turntable, how to gently drop the stylus onto the start of a track even in the middle of an album.
Music was his passion and he would play his guitar,write songs, record them in his room, and if I was lucky he would play them for me. He was and still is mega talented.
Bowie was one of his idols, and I grew up listening to his records. He saw him live on various occasions, and I used to think how amazing it would be to see a rock star – live.
As a teenager of about fifteen a boy once sent me a Valentine card and inside he had written the lyrics to Bowie’s “A letter to Hermione”. Very Poetic.
When I was eighteen I was camping in the South of France with some friends, Bowie was playing in Nice (his Glass Spider Tour), and one of the girls and I managed to get tickets to go and see him.
It was awesome, and I have continued off and on, to be inspired by his music.
My daughter has this same passion for music. I mentioned in this post how she had asked for a record player for Christmas, and is accumalting her own collection of vintage vinyl.
Influences – sounds, smells, images, they shape you.
I don’t see my brother much, but I am meeting him for lunch tomorrow. It will be good to catch up.