It seemed like the right thing to do. I was a 23-year-old university student and wannabe music journalist staring at a newspaper announcement of David Bowie’s 2004 Australian tour.
I can’t say I was a fan at the time. He was more of a reference point from chats with friends, and I certainly never spoke of him in the hushed, revered tones that fans and critics reserved for him.
That said, I shelled out the hefty US$90 (Dh330) ticket price to sit in the nosebleed seats of the arena on that hot February night.
I justified the cost by convincing myself that it was similar to a school field trip – like going to a museum to see all the old classic artworks people raved about. I certainly never expected to experience a full-blooded rock show.
Carrying a regal white guitar, Bowie took the stage to blinding lights and immediately let rip into the opening chords of Rebel Rebel.
What had been a mainstay of classic rock radio sounded so vital and oh-so primal – with Bowie swivelling his hips as if his whole body embodied the iconic riffs.
The spectacle continued with classics such as the propulsive All The Young Dudes and the gentle heartbreak of China Girl. It was the kind of exhilaration one can only experience when witnessing a master at work. I also began to see how this legend had influenced many of my favourite artists.
The way the late Scott Weiland stalked the stage is straight out of the Bowie playbook. The way The Killers frontman Brandon Flowers juxtaposes his yelping and crooning is also a Bowie vocal trick.
The best part of it all was Bowie’s kind demeanour on stage. There was something gentle and vulnerable about him, with his boyish grin and heartfelt gratitude to the audience.
A heart attack in Germany four months later brought the tour to a premature halt and Bowie never toured again.
But he had worked his magic on me. I joined the masses in viewing Bowie as not “just” a gifted artist, but as a mythical figure who not only knew what was coming, but also knew when it was the right time to step aside. Pop music has lost its futurist, but he leaves a legacy that will never be consigned to the past.
sasaeed@thenational.ae
