A Decade Without the Genius of David Bowie

When the world woke up on January 10th ten years ago to the news that David Bowie had died, few could believe it. How was it possible? Just a couple of days earlier, on his 69th birthday, he had released 'Blackstar', his twenty-fifth album, a collection of songs as strange and challenging as it was brilliant and stimulating, which saw the return of the more experimental and daring white duke. Three years prior, Bowie had ended a decade of musical silence with 'The Next Day', a brilliant album that, as Fidel Oltra pointedly noted in his review for Muzikalia, sounded like "a sort of greatest hits where all the songs are new." So when this new LP arrived, preceded by two singles this time and without the element of surprise, everyone assumed that the British musician had overcome his creative slump and was rejoining the music industry machinery with renewed enthusiasm. Even the promotional photographs for the album, taken by Jimmy King a few months earlier, showed an elegant Bowie, dressed in a dark gray suit and hat, smiling openly, with an almost childlike carelessness.

Later we would learn that by the time those images were taken, the liver cancer, diagnosed 18 months earlier and only disclosed to his closest confidants, was so advanced that Bowie had to muster all his strength to present the image he wanted to be remembered by forever. "He always did what he wanted. And he wanted to do it his way and do it the best way. His death was no different from his life: a work of art. He made 'Blackstar' for us, his parting gift. For a year I knew this was how he would leave us. Yet, I was not prepared for it. He was an extraordinary man, full of love and life. He will always be with us. But now, it is appropriate to mourn," revealed Tony Visconti, a regular collaborator of the British musician and co-producer of the album.

No one could ignore, however, lyrics that spoke much of farewell. Among the seven songs that made up that masterpiece, opening with a colossal 'Blackstar', nearly ten minutes long and with syncopated rhythms, was 'Lazarus', which referred to Lazarus of Bethany, the dead man who in the Gospel rises and walks. In the song, one could hear verses like "Look up here, I'm in heaven / I've got scars that can't be seen / I've got drama that can't be stolen / Everybody knows me now. / Look