17 January,2016 08:32 AM IST | | Rahul da Cunha
There’s something tragically romantic about the passing away of rock and roll stars. They rarely seem to die of natural causes
Illustration /Uday Mohite
As the rock saying goes, better to burn out than fade away. But two older icons who never burnt out or faded way were defeated by cancer recently. Motorhead's Lemmy Kilmister and David Bowie aka Ziggy Stardust. Growing up, I will admit I wasn't much of a fan of Bowie's music.
Apart from the soulful Golden Years and the boppy Let's Dance, Ground Control to Major Tom, fell into the category of âhangover songs' - meaning after a night of heavy drinking and some Bade Miya kebabs, you drowsily woke up to Bowie's drawl in your teenage ears.
But Bowie was a unique character. Multi-faceted and constantly creating.
And he was a collaborator, he wrote songs for other bands, jammed with Mick Jagger (Jerry Halls's ex, for all you Justin Bieber peeps). Freddy Mercury and he connected superbly for some work.
Coincidentally, I'm going retro in my musical inclinations - not just in taste, but in technology. I've invested in a turntable and have been on a record buying spree.
And I've been feasting on Bowie's songs. Thirty years later, I'm amazed at his lyrics and range of music.
Any man who can write tunes, that at once appeal to the rock star, the rapper, the lover of ârona dhona' songs and rhapsodies, is a musician I respect.
This was a man absolutely true to himself. Secure in his own skin. Comfortable in his chameleonhood. Absolutely unwilling to compromise on his own constant re-invention.
Bowie changed genre as rapidly as he changed garb.
And I suppose, I will sound painfully old-fashioned when I say this, but they don't make them like him anymore.
Chameleons adapt to their surroundings. But they also change form.
Take a bowie, David.
Rahul da Cunha is an adman, theatre director/playwright, photographer and traveller. Reach him at rahuldacunha62@gmail.com