There’s a saying in Montana that if you don’t like the weather, wait ten minutes. The same thing could be said for David Bowie (although we at Jetset would have a hard time finding anything about David Bowie to dislike). The ever-changing image and persona that is David Bowie is also a metaphor for the aesthetic changes of pop-culture over the last half-century. One look at a particular image of Bowie and we have almost no trouble identifying what year it was.
We at Jetset are involved in a long-running, prosperous, punch-drunk and, at times, even tempestuous love affair with pop-culture. Inside these walls, several generations are represented, from Baby Boomers to Generation X to Generation Z. Pop-culture alliances ebb and flow with the passage of time, but certain icons will always be evergreen, traversing generations with ease and never losing an ounce of relevance. David Bowie is one of those icons. Is it because his music is good? Of course it is. Is it because his very face has become iconic? Absolutely. But what is it about David Bowie that transfixes generation after generation? The answer, of course, is simpler than we think. Maybe it’s because, for lack of a better phrase, he’s always just been there.
Whether he’s donning an eye-patch and singing about space or he’s resorted to eating nothing but peppers and milk and futzing around the mixing boards with Brian Eno, every Bowie fan has their favorite era. And just like Beatles fans, many of them identify with individual albums.
Sure, he had his missteps in the 80s like many of his contemporaries (The Rolling Stones, Bruce Springsteen and Elton John to name a few), but we forgive him for the very reason that he never stopped pushing forward. And at the end of the day, we can forgive albums like Tonight, Let’s Dance and Never Let Me Down for one main reason: The 80s gave us Labyrinth Bowie, turning a whole new generation on to his music as well as giving us a fantastic (and endlessly quotable) collaboration with Jim Henson. In fact, it wouldn’t be unthinkable to say that most generations from this day forward will learn of the power of Bowie as young kids sitting on the floor watching Labyrinth. And we think that’s wonderful.
To us, every Bowie tells a story, and we couldn’t think of a better way to honor a man who has always been there for us (whether he’s telling us to shut our mouths or to turn and face the strange changes) than to pay homage to every Bowie that has ever been. So without further ado, we present:
TIME MAY CHANGE HIM