When I was at school there was a girl called Colette who walked almost everywhere with The Big Black Bowie book under her arm. I didn't get his music then and it took Let's Dance to be released before I really began to enjoy him. Then, like I often do, I went back through the catalogue and found the riches.

What I really loved about Bowie was his thirst to move on and change. He played the hits but he seemed to live for the next song, the next album, the next change in sound. This, along with a tide of truly great songs, is what I take from his life. Oddly, this was also at the back of my mind when I decided to sell my 1951 issue Fender bass. It's the last Fender I own and I have a picture of my daughter sitting with it when she was a baby, however, it belongs to a style of music and a kind of band I don't fit any more. Exciting pictures of the new bass that will replace it will come soon. In the meantime, here's that bloke from Brixton singing the song that has haunted most of my weekend.


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