There are some things you just don’t say in public…for example, admitting that you fancy Boris Johnson or that you once did a little wee in the swimming baths. It is a good job I don’t really care about social etiquette as if I don’t get something off my chest, I think I may explode in a jibbering heap. You see, it’s David Bowie. Bowie and that infernal advert he has lent his song to. Okay now it is not the most annoying advert in the world but as soon as I hear his purposefully off key singing and crap lyrics it makes me want to throw whatever is handy at the TV.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not bashing Bowie just for the hell of it; there is a method to my madness. Namely that in my opinion, a band or artist is only as good as the last material they released and his latest album ‘The Next Day’ is pretty pants.
I can almost hear the gasps over the internet and the sounds of all the fan-boys banging at my door, but I can’t help my opinion.
I have not always been a Bowie hater; I have a real fondness for his 70s stuff…when it was all so glamorous, decadent and experimental. Now it is all just a bit flat. Plus just a little bit try hard. Maybe it is my obsession with The Labyrinth as I have just never been able to look past that impressive trouser bulge he was sporting as Goblin King, Jareth. Plus I like a bit of cheese as much as the next person and can happily blast out every word to his duet with Queen, ‘Under Pressure.’
So perhaps I am just using Bowie as a catalyst for my hatred of bands and artists who just carry on releasing music when they are well past their sell by date. It is like the Rolling Stones. If I wanted to stare at shrivelled up old folks “rocking out on stage” I would pop down to my nearest old folk’s home.
But even worse than that is those bands who reform for cash, without any of the magic or chemistry, or great songs that made them so epic in the first place!
Take Queen for instance. Once the gods of stadium rock now reduced to touring the UK for a gimmick, not really resembling the band they once were at all. Once 'The Princes of the Universe' in my eyes, as a child I thought that Queen could do no wrong. A heady mix of theatricality, innuendo-laden lyrics and great musicianship...what was not to love? As someone who happily admits to being a gay man in a straight woman's body, Freddie was fabulous with a capital F. Obviously I was devastated when Freddie died and John Deakin showed great dignity and conviction in calling it a day, despite the lure of the pound signs. But then came the horror of the tours, hideous duets with boybands and *shudder inwardly* West End musical, 'We Will Rock You.' How can half a band still go by the same name? A similar thing happened with Guns and Roses as well. The whole thing makes me feel a bit sick to be honest.
Needless to say, I don’t really like come backs. Probably as I have yet to see a good one and unfortunately Bowie is an example of that.