The Culture: David Bowie’s comeback is finally here

He’s been a hippie, an alien, a duke, a pop star and most recently, a recluse. Now, at the start of his 66th year, David Bowie is making a comeback.

On January 8, his birthday, he premiered a new song called “Where Are We Now?” It’s the first glimpse of his upcoming album, The Next Day, set to be released on March 12.

After years of near silence, Bowie’s reentrance into the spotlight has been both surprising and exciting. For fans like me, it’s exhilarating to just have his creative energy circulating in the atmosphere again. David Bowie, in his various incarnations, means so much to so many people.

Bowie is known for his diverse musical styles and personae. Androgynous alien, Ziggy Stardust, is perhaps the most iconic. There’s also the suave but jittery Thin White Duke and a handful of other characters.

But actually, before I get into all that, I should probably mention that at one point David Bowie terrified me. When I was younger, my dad would play the Best of Bowie CD in his car pretty often, and since it’s unequivocally wonderful, I liked it immediately. But then I saw a picture of the man himself — probably circa 1973, during his Ziggy Stardust period. The whole thing was way outside of my comfort zone. I couldn’t understand, and was therefore rather afraid of, this mysterious creature who liked to pretend he was from another planet.

I’m not sure exactly when my attitude changed (I think it might have had something to do with “Suffragette City” appearing in a Gilmore Girls episode,) but I know I was a fan by the time I was 17. At this point, I recognized the appeal of Bowie’s freakishness. I remember listening to “Rebel Rebel” in the morning on my way to high school. Although I was neither a tomboy nor a transvestite like the subject of the song, I still found comfort in the non-conformist decree that fitting in didn’t matter.

Next to the driving rock ’n’ roll beat, that’s what I love about Bowie’s music. His characters aren’t much like me, but they all seem to share a kind of fringe sensibility, that which comes from feeling out of place. Bowie revels in weirdness. In “Rebel, Rebel,” he sings, “They put you down, they say I’m wrong / you tacky thing, you put them on.” This culminates in the kicker, “Rebel, Rebel, how could they know? / Hot tramp, I love you so!” The song is great because it celebrates beauty in “dirty” places. This “you” is an object of society’s disgust, but at the same time, he or she is adored by a wilder (yet in many ways more sensitive) crowd.

Besides “Rebel, Rebel,” another favorite of mine is “Suffragette City.” I’ve listened to this song over and over, but I still can’t figure out what the hell Bowie is talking about. The Internet offers various interpretations: it could refer to heroin, a wild, liberated woman or even A Clockwork Orange. If I had to guess, I’d say “Suffragette City” is about abandoning one obsession (drugs, love, or whatever the case may be) in favor of something even more exciting.  Either way, I can’t get enough of every indecipherable word, especially when Bowie yells, “Wham bam thank ya ma’am!”

But my favorite album is probably 1971’s Hunky Dory, which predates the overwhelming Ziggy Stardust persona. Instead, the image of Bowie posing on the cover is said to be modeled after Marlene Dietrich. It also has a sort of Renaissance feel. (As always, Bowie is full of references.) Hunky Dory has a gentler kind of sound, while still showcasing Bowie’s unmistakable strangeness. It contains odes to Andy Warhol and Bob Dylan as well as a beautiful hymn dedicated to Bowie’s newborn son, Zowie. This song, “Kooks,” is a heartwarming celebration of unconventional family life. While I’m sure growing up in the Bowie household was no picnic, “Kooks” actually makes it sound wonderful.

“Life on Mars?” also comes from Hunky Dory. I remember playing this song on repeat while studying for my Guided Tour of the Planets exam. I think it helped. Bowie loves to sing about space. Images of stars and aliens are sprinkled all over his music. His most famous character, Ziggy Stardust, is an out-of-this-world rock star backed by an extraterrestrial band called the Spiders from Mars. This astronomy fascination seems to evoke several ideas for Bowie.

First, it’s an appreciation for astral, otherworldly beauty (see “The Prettiest Star”). Then in the sense of “Space Oddity,” it suggests a kind of modern disconnect from reality. Finally, in songs like “Starman” and “Life on Mars?” it indicates possibility and progress. Space and creatures from other planets are an incentive to open your mind. They also represent a respite from the mundane clichés of ordinary existence.

Bowie describes life on earth as “a god-awful small affair / to the girl with the mousy hair.” The subject of the song “Life on Mars?” tries to lose herself in the fantasy world of movies, but they’re all too hackneyed to really take her anywhere. So she seeks further distance from her dreary day by asking herself, “Is there life on Mars?” Bowie’s mousy-haired girl wonders if there’s more out there. She dreams of a better kind of escapism, but at the same time searches for something that really matters. In a way, “Life on Mars?” exemplifies why Bowie matters: he gives us fantastic surrealism welded to the basic human experience.

As I’ve neglected to mention any songs released after 1974, it’s obvious that I’m fan of early David Bowie. But despite my prejudices, I think the man is always a genius (and maybe even a helpful alien), so I’m definitely going to give his new album, The Next Day, a try.