Sunday, April 26, 2015

Songs they don't play on the radio

Baby Groot might have understood.
That golden dawn picture by Peter Howson did remind me of the lyric in the David Bowie song "Quicksand" from Hunky Dory. It seemed to me that when everybody was humming Life on Mars or Changes, how odd it was that I was pretty much stuck in the quicksand of Quicksand. It probably was my first encounter with the darkness, duplicity and many unsettling conundrums presented and suggested in the fall out from the superman theory:

"I'm closer to the Golden Dawn, immersed in Crowley's uniform of imagery,
I'm living in a silent film portraying Himmler's sacred realm of dream reality."

Dwelling on that stuff for too long as a dumb and  tender16 year old couldn't have been a good idea. It shouldn't have been allowed. Here was Bowie's howling pseudo intellectual London boy take on Nietzsche's theories disguised as a pop song, more potent than Dylan and more poetic than Lennon. It perplexed me for years but I was captivated and the scar tissue and confusion remains. Now it's buried too deep in the album so the other cod pop songs can get a run out and an airing, this piece of devil worship and open ended hard to deal with questions remains sleeping, unheard and ignored and overtaken by bigger beefier matters; but those questions are still unanswered and the observations and the clumsy words and clunky robotic points cannot be blunted. Some stuff isn't designed to be dealt with in the here and now, we'll shelve it all until music and media matters mature, a bit of a catch up. Some time about the 12th of Never I guess. (Then we might also try and deal with the Bewlay Brothers at the same session). Sad that Bowie never was quite as hot ever again.

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