A flame splits the black clouds and plunges into the planet’s surface. A pillar of light emerges from the ground, extends up into the night sky, and steadily fades away. A man crawls out of the crater left behind from the impact. He walks until he sees a sign of civilized life, in the form of fluorescent twinkling in the distance. Many years pass; the man is old now, having loved and been loved by the planet deeply. It’s time to say goodbye to the starman . . .
Mortality; it’s the dark, looming door at the end of everything and everyone. There are those individuals that leave behind greatness, and then there are those with lifetimes worth of greatness to their name. These are the ones that take with them a shade of color from life in their passing. David Bowie was the embodiment of this type of individual, and Blackstar is his farewell to a world that was changed greatly by the artist.
Up till the very end, Bowie continued to conceive new ideas, and constantly innovate in his art to best communicate those ideas. The enigmatic artist dabbled in every genre, but the poignancy of the shadowy, electronic-tinged jazz compositions found on his final full-length record is astounding. The songs possess that irresistible “Bowie appeal,” but they contain new elements of bleak, improvisation-heavy experimentation.
This is a record created by a man who knew he was on his way out, and listening to it as such is overwhelming. David Bowie was a hero of mine, and the lives of pretty much everyone will forever be altered by his artistic contributions. We should consider ourselves blessed to have lived at the same time as him, and the Starman will be mourned deeply. If you’re seeking progressive, experimental jazz, this album is for you.
– stasi (@stasisphere)