The World According to Keitho

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Posts Tagged ‘David Bowie’

2016: The worst meme ever

Posted by keithosaunders on December 28, 2016

The latest sickening internet trend is the conceit that a random grouping of 365 days is a sentient being.  This is especially true on Twitter where people are trying to one up each other for the whiniest tweet.  Here’s an example:

So so sad to hear about the death of Carrie Fisher. 2016 has taught us one hell of a lesson.. don’t take anyone for granted! Hurry up 2017!!

I guarantee you I can pick any year and find just as many celebrities that died. Here is a list of notable deaths in 1955:

Albert Einstein, James Agee, James Dean, and most tragically, Shemp Howard of the Three Stooges.

Charlie Parker died in 1955. Bam. 1955 is exponentially worse than 2016.

Again, it’s all about the humblebrag. RIPing  Prince, Carrie Fisher, or ________________________ makes you seem like a sensitive individual, but the effect is to draw attention towards yourself and away from the deceased.

There is nothing new about the  gratuitous social media RIP, but this year came with a new wrinkle:  The anthropomorphism of 2016.  As if a year is a sentient being and that somehow 2017 will be more benevolent.

If I might offer a suggestion, try a different calendar. Why not go by the Chinese calendar? Or give the Jewish calendar a shot. Or the Mayan. It couldn’t hurt.

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Starman

Posted by keithosaunders on January 11, 2016

DD

I’ve been thinking about Diamond Dogs.  This was the first David Bowie record to be released after I had started listening to him. (Ziggy and Aladdin Sane already felt like ancient history even though they were only one and two years old) I remember counting down the days until DD came out and finally taking it home, playing it and loving it instantly.

There was this strange dichotomy with Bowie – here was this effeminate androgynous person who appeared more alien than human, yet his music was as muscular and substantial as anything heard before or since. Growing up in the staid, conforming, tract-home infested San Fernando Valley of Los Angeles, listening to Bowie felt simultaneously thrilling and subversive.

Less than a year after Diamond Dogs Bowie would  help kick-start disco with Young Americans and I summarily rote him off.  This  was convenient for me since I had begun studying and playing jazz and wouldn’t listen to rock music for another three years.  When I did get around to checking out rock again my brother played me the Eno-produced records that Bowie had made in the interim – Low, Heroes, and Lodger – and they blew my mind.  Scary Monsters came out a few months after I had rediscovered him and it was like a satisfying coda to the frenetic and schizophrenic seventies.  Soon Bowie would don a suit and tie for the conservative 80s only to reemerge in the 90s as a cutting-edge post-punk industrial rocker.

Bowie is the most important pop artist we’ve lost since John Lennon.  He was like a rock version of Miles Davis.  He stayed relevant and innovative no matter how old he got and he influenced every generation that was lucky enough to have heard him.
 It’s a sad day.

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