David Bowie is the soundtrack of my early life. And that of my siblings, as it was impossible for them to get away from the noise from my battered cassette deck, and eventually, my glistening Yamaha hi-fi.
I only ever got to watch Bowie live once, at Wembley Stadium, on 19th June 1987 – and at a particularly distressed time in his career. I just couldn’t relate to the whole, bloated show. None of the stark theatrics of Ziggy or the hunger of the Thin White Duke.
Mercifully, Bowie went on to deconstruct his music and his life. I live in the hope that he may go back to touring, one day. So I can finally reclaim the dangerous, restless Bowie of my growing years, for one night.