There is this whole other level of encoded information there, in sounds, in movements, in timing, in all sorts of things that, once you've heard it, is definitely an asset in knowing that it exists, and then, to understand it in a different way.

Perhaps as people become less stressed and learn to pay more attention, more will hear the messages behind the music and the words.

Those are immortal.

David Bowie: Eyes Of Night Wide Open

A Tribute To The Starman

by Silvia Hartmann

Starman was the first record I ever purchased with my own money.

I was young, living in an ultra-conservative, ultra-old fashioned little town in Germany at the time and mostly thinking I was going quite insane.

One day, I saw the (incredibly badly translated) lyrics to Starman in a magazine. I don't remember the article at all, I don't think it was particularly complimentary but I knew I had to hear the song.

The single had to be ordered in specially; nobody in the record shop had ever heard of David Bowie. Young Silvia had to wait for a week, then the record shop phoned to let it be known it was ready for collection.

Back in time and space, a very young aspect sat and listened into the night, over, over, over and over again, reaching for the message, knowing there was something very important here, something special, something that made sense when virtually nothing else ever did.

It was always about "the message."

The young aspect wasn't sexually attracted to Bowie, nor ever considered themselves to be a David Bowie "fan."

Through the next 44 years to follow from the night of the Starman, David Bowie's ... not music, but message, was an ongoing part of my existence, perhaps the only strand that bound the times before, during and after in a very profound way that I am failing to explain this morning, a few moments after I woke up, and my partner took me aside and said, "I am sorry to have to tell you this, but I want you to hear it from me rather than when you switch the computer on.

"David Bowie died last night."

Today, some 50 people in Germany will probably think of me too.

I was the only one back in the day who had a portable tape recorder, and I only played Bowie.

At class outings and class parties at school, I played Bowie.

Later, I started DJing and of course, I played Bowie.

I taught German boys to waltz to "After All."

These, and so many other occurrences over time ...

For five years, I had a tape of "Outside" in my car, and it automatically played around and around as soon as the car started. I contribute the fact that one of my sons was "cured of autism" significantly to this album, and I don't use the word "significantly" lightly here. He used to scream at first, and it had to be on at the lowest possible level, barely audible over the engine noise, for the first six months, and before I could begin to increase the volume in fractional increments.

At the end, five years of daily car trips later, we had it on full blast, singing the songs, speaking the words together, and discussing the internal representations, the metaphors, evolving scenarios from "looking through windows for demons, and watching the young advancing, all electric."

There is something "inside" David Bowie's creations that is above and beyond, a connection to another realm altogether, that is precious and endlessly fascinating.

It is immensely HEALING in essence, but you have to be tuned in to hear it, to perceive it.

Not everybody is tuned that way.

Not everyone can tune that way.

Some people can learn to tune that way.

When they do, they too become fascinated by the sheer otherness, and that's a technical term where I come from.

A very precious thing, this otherness.

Very.

Only a few weeks ago, I recommended to a German intellectual who was all at sea to listen to "Cygnet Committee" as a direct cure for his particular problem.

And only a few months ago, I wrote an article entitled "Hearing Bowie" on the Energist's Research Forum.

It took five years in this instance of playing that tape round and round every single car trip, very quietly at first, before the magic moment happened and the poor kid "heard it too" for the first time.

And went, OMG ...

Me, having been there quite a few times over the years with all sorts of people of varying ages by then, I smiled and enjoyed it.

It is some kind of actual revelation, and no music sounds the same after that.

Now I am wondering if this couldn't be vastly accelerated by tapping along to a Bowie track or two.

Or perhaps the entire album I used for the poor kid in the car - Outside. Which is probably super-challenging in the greater scheme of "hearing Bowie" related strategies, but by then, the aspect KNEW that you get folk to actually hear what's there.

Is it an energy thing?

Gotta be on some level.

There is this whole other level of encoded information there, in sounds, in movements, in timing, in all sorts of things that, once you've heard it, is definitely an asset in knowing that it exists, and then, to understand it in a different way.

David Bowie was who he was. Many stories will be told, more will be embellished, dramatized, sanctified.

Above all, however, he was "other than."

Those people are rare as rocking horse shit and I do wish with all my heart they were treated better, more kindly, whilst they're still alive.

It's not easy being green ...

Or other than.

It is true that in my lifetime, I haven't taken too much notice of other people.

There were some that were special, important.

From the sheer length and constancy of involvement, David Bowie stands head and shoulder above all the rest.

He's always been with me, ever since I first connected with that awful translation of Starman 44 years ago.

He will remain with me.

Perhaps as people become less stressed and learn to pay more attention, more will hear the messages behind the music and the words.

Those are immortal.

Silvia Hartmann,

January 11th, 2016

There is this whole other level of encoded information there, in sounds, in movements, in timing, in all sorts of things that, once you've heard it, is definitely an asset in knowing that it exists, and then, to understand it in a different way.

Perhaps as people become less stressed and learn to pay more attention, more will hear the messages behind the music and the words.

Those are immortal.

Starman - Play it now.