Well the post about why I hate the christmas season and a lifetime of unsuitable presents increasing my dysphoria seems to have vanished! Just signing in her seems to have been made difficult by google who keep flipping me back to my everyday account... I have given up so many times when a post idea passed through my head, today I have persisted.
This is a sad day for many of us. Last year saw the passing of so many who had enriched our lives but this years list has started badly.
When I was living as a miss-assigned boy the presence of the Beatles on the pop scene allowed me to let my hair grow without too much fuss from parents, school was tougher... When David Bowie arrived with his Hunky Dory album I was saved! At last, here was proof that I might not be trapped in that stagnant societal role of dull male conformity. here was colour and the freedom to flounce even if the world could only see you as a strange boy. Those were the days of lyrics printed on the LP covers or as in this case on an LP sized sheet inside the sleeve. They would be poured over to decipher if they could be applied to your own situation and wow did they allow a shiver of self identity. Those words set me free and trapped me. I refused to conform so was always an outsider, once free i could not hide away.
I still don't know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild
A million dead end streets
Every time I thought I'd got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet
So I turned my self to face me
But I'v never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I'm much to fast to take that test
I watch the rip lets change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
so the days flow through my eyes
But the days still seem the same
And these children that you spit on
a they try to change their worlds
are immune to your consolations
They're quite aware of what they are going through
Don't tell them to grow up and grow out of it
where's your shame
You've left us up to our necks in it
Time may change them
But you can't trace time
Strange fascination, fascinating me
Changes are taking the pace I'm going through
Pretty soon you are going to get a little older
Time may change me
But I can't trace time
The words stay the same as time passes and interpretations shift but they still churn my insides...
My copy of The Man Who Sold The World is not my original with that iconic portrait of Bowie reclining in a gorgeous dress, a heart breaking picture if ever there was one. The track which always got me was "After All"