It’s time we remember what true artistry looks like, something increasingly absent in today’s world. A new book dives into the later years of David Bowie, reminding us of his constant evolution, even when critics weren’t always on board.
- Bowie’s later career was marked by experimentation, not always commercially successful, but always pushing boundaries.
- His final album, Blackstar, released just before his death, was a masterpiece that confronted mortality.
- A new biography, Lazarus: The Second Coming of David Bowie, explores this period, offering insights into his creative process.
Bowie’s Unwavering Pursuit of Art
Alexander Larman’s Lazarus explores the period after Bowie supposedly lost his “ability to create musical alchemy.” But even if this premise is a bit dramatic, it makes us explore the time that led up to Bowie’s final act. It highlights a man who refused to be pigeonholed, constantly reinventing himself even when it meant alienating some fans. He treated the recording studio “like a playground”, said his bassist Gail Ann Dorsey.
Bowie understood that true art requires risk. He wasn’t afraid to fail, and he certainly wasn’t chasing popular trends. He wanted experimentation. That is a lesson today’s musicians could certainly learn from.
The “Dead” Years That Gave Us Blackstar
The book argues Bowie was “metaphorically dead” creatively for a long stretch. This is a bit much, but it underlines the point that his later output was divisive. Yet, it was during these “dead” years that Bowie laid the groundwork for Blackstar. Those experiments, even the ones that didn’t fully work, allowed him to refine his sound and create something truly unique at the end.
Consider the track ” ‘Tis A Pity She Was A Whore’ “, which includes percussion reminiscent of “I’m Deranged”. It shows the evolution of Bowie’s sound. Even his less-loved drum and bass sounds explored on Earthling can be traced to Blackstar.
A Final Masterpiece: Confronting Mortality
Blackstar wasn’t just an album; it was a goodbye. Released just before his death from cancer, it confronted mortality in a way few artists ever have. The music videos, with their haunting imagery, weren’t just artistic expressions; they were a glimpse into a man facing his own end.
The book’s last chapter, detailing Bowie’s final months, is particularly moving. Knowing he was dying, he poured everything he had into finishing his projects, leaving behind a powerful legacy. Blackstar topped the charts.
The Broader Impact: Art vs. Commerce
Bowie’s career is a reminder that true art should challenge and provoke, not just cater to the lowest common denominator. In a world obsessed with instant gratification and fleeting trends, he dared to be different. He reminds us that true originality often comes from pushing boundaries and taking risks, even if it means sacrificing short-term commercial success.
Larman’s portrait of Bowie allows the finale to make for a heartbreaking read. Even before Bowie was diagnosed with the liver cancer that killed him, he was admitting his fears that he’d die and abandon his wife Iman and his then-newborn Lexi. His story challenges the consumerist, conformist culture that increasingly dominates our society.
Are we willing to embrace art that challenges us, even if it’s not always easy to digest?
