Growing up tormented by Hawaiian slack key guitar and Lawrence Welk, I was introduced to David Bowie when Space oddity was simulcast during the moon landing.
Shortly there after, my friend Trevor Hillsberry invited me over to his place and played Hunky Dory for me. Being in gifted classes, I found little to connect with intellectually in the real world I was familiar with. Here at last was another gentleman I considered to be a mental equal, and I soaked his writing in like a sponge.
The final event that forever signified his worth was when my father refused to let me watch the October 1974 rebroadcast of Ziggy’s (actually Aladdin Sane’s) farewell at the Hammersmith Odeon. I taped the KGB F.M. simulcast and was forever inducted into the Bowie universe.I could not see the images, but what was clear to this Thespian’s ears was this man was a performance artist. I actually think the mental images I conjured up were greater than the actual show.
In any case, I was now, more than ever, keenly aware that their was a whole world of various artforms out there waiting and willing to be assimilated into one. I witnessed the birth of what we call “New Media” and stood forever changed.