Standing at The Lab nightclub in downtown St.
Paul the Saturday before last, a single tear- unashamed- slipped down my right cheek. After 27 years of living as well as breathing music, I finally came to comprehend how absolutely it connects us all. Just six weeks earlier, I'd embarked upon a trip to Chicago to see David Bowie play the Area2 festival at Tweeter Center. There, against the grand backdrop of a slowly sinking sunset, this smartly dressed gentleman pulled me into a wonderfully imaginative world and held me fast. As Bowie stylishly chauffeured his audience through three decades of songs, his influence on
modern music became not only apparent, but undeniable. Even more striking, perhaps, was realizing his affect on the live music scene of two semi-obscure Midwest American towns: Minneapolis - St. Paul.

In attendance for Bowie at Tweeter Center that
evening was Twin Cities resident, Future Perfect curator and Ultra Modern Records CEO Chris Strouth. "You can see Bowie's influence on everything, not just on the local level. He became one of those guys, like Bo Diddley: what he did [with music] became so much of a lexicon that people have kind of forgotten that someone actually came up with it. To counterpoint that, there's the other side of this which is that Bowie- for all of his innovation- was also an incredibly good follower. He was able to see what was happening on the underground level of the 'outside' and add a twist to it." Strouth pauses thoughtfully, then continues: "Locally, you can see his influence from the glam rock of All The Pretty Horses to the crazy, theatrical hijinks of Flipp, down to the strange narrative line that goes to Faux Jean, all the way to his experimental work with Eno on Low, like the Future Perfect record."

The most evident example of Bowie's impact on
Minneapolis - St. Paul performers can be found in Venus, the trans-glam founder of All The Pretty Horses. Talking about Bowie, the sound of respect resonates clearly in Venus' voice. "I've always been really impressed with him ever since I was very little. His creative approach to music- not really fitting into a particular genre, but going around to different ones experimenting- has been really exciting to watch. He's been involved in almost all of it and is still viable- influencing and altering things." Venus adds: "People look to him now as an established artist that is on the forefront of what happens when you're 'old' in rock and roll. How do you deal with that? I'm continually fascinated by how he approaches his audience, his art, how he remains significant when rock music has traditionally not really been interested in anyone of 'age'."

By not adhering to the system, David Bowie seems to have beat it. A quintessential artist's artist, Bowie weathered the chaotic make-up/break-up mode of the 1960's London live band scene, survived over half a decade of lukewarm releases on six different labels (including a brief stint with the Beatles' Apple Music) prior to landing his first substantial contract with RCA Records in 1971. With the support of a diverse array of musicians, producers, as well as his own artistic ability to evolve, Bowie has managed to stay ahead of the game.

His capacity to transform is especially apparent on his latest effort, Heathen [ISO/Columbia], which has been billed as one of his most personally revealing records to date. A number of factors figure in the intimacy + spiritual examination + nostalgia equation that is Heathen. First and foremost, an unexpected reunion with former Bowie collaborator as well as producer Tony Visconti. Of recording with Visconti after nearly two decades, Bowie explains: "Tony and I had been wanting to work together again for a few years now. I told Mark Plati and my band that I was going to disappear for a while to put this thing together with Tony. They were very understanding: they've worked with me long enough to know that we'd be back together before long." Bowie moves on, admitting: "We didn't know where we were going, but it was a joy when we got there. I had a sense of the sonic weight that I was after, a sort of non-professional approach, a kind of British amateur-ness about it. Amateur in that dedicated fashion that you find in a man who, only on Sundays, will build a cathedral out of match sticks, beautiful but only to please himself, his family and friends. I went in very much like that... I wanted to feel the weight and the depth of the years. All my experiences, all the questions, all the fear, all the spiritual isolation. I wanted to prove the sustaining power of music."

On the subject of the sustaining power of music, former Push On Junior bassist and current post-rock
songwriter Diedrich Weiss identifies. "If I allow myself the transformative possibilities within music, it will also offer other people their own possibility of transformation through music. That's one thing Bowie definitely represents for me and does for me as a listener." Weiss recalls his first experience with Bowie: "I remember when Grant Johnson came over to my house with Ziggy Stardust the film. I was fifteen. It blew my little Bloomington, Minnesota brain completely. Bowie exposed for me the myth that all relevant art is from the singular influence of oneself rather than a collage of all that came before, creating something new and individual."

Thor Eisentrager, guitarist of the '90's punk unit The Cows, considers Bowie's contribution to music "giant" and duly notes his effort to challenge conventional perspective. Eisentrager succinctly summarizes Bowie's early work as: "Truly great rock and roll." Speaking for The Suburbs, drummer Hugo Klaers relays: "Anybody that was around playing music in the '70's, early '80's- most of the people I know in the Twin Cities, anyway- were completely influenced. He was a major catalyst for The Suburbs. We were all sitting around one night listening to Fame- the album- and wrote a song- Change Agent- which wound up being the b-side of our single World War 3. He's still an influence... A trend setter, no doubt."

Ciaran Daly, front man to The Idle Hands confers: "Bowie helped introduce the idea that it's possible to reinvent yourself over and over again and still maintain an identity. The only thing that mattered was that you were completely yourself, that you held yourself to standards that were higher than everybody else's." Regarding Bowie's effect on the local front, Daly responds: "I see his influence in specific instances- bands like Revolver, Kid Dakota, in All The Pretty Horses and Flipp. They're very good at creating spectacle."

Spectacle is definitely something that Twin Cities based rock darlings LIKEHELL do well. Of Bowie, drummer Tony Oliveri quips: "He's one of the cultural pop icons of our time. He's been a wicked influence on everybody. There's several bands here that do that kind of over-the-top thing. Bowie was always really good at making a live show, being very entertaining and visual as opposed to just sitting there, rocking out. Also, the fact that Bowie can work with so many different musicians... Anybody would be honored to work with him."

Oliveri's sentiments about Bowie's collaborative inclinations are on the money. The Heathen guest list includes appearances from Nirvana as well as Foo Fighters alumnus Dave Grohl, guitarists David Torn, Carlos Alomar and Pete Townshend. On Townshend's involvement, Bowie remarks: "I've known Pete for years of course and have thought of him as a mentor in some ways. We'd written back and forth about doing this and he was due to do his part when he came in for the Concert For New York, which we both played. Time got out of hand with rehearsals so we did it by throwing the ProTools disc back and forth across the ocean." Bowie carries on to cite three of the twelve tracks on Heathen as covers, recorded explicitly for the purpose of paying homage to fellow musicians. "The Neil Young song, 'I've Been Waiting For You' was from his very first album. When I got that album in 1969, I was dazzled by the overall complexity of the sound. It was majestic but lonely sounding at the same time. I'd always wanted to do that song on stage or some place. The Pixies' song 'Cactus' is a really underrated song. I could never get over the fact that The Pixies formed, worked and separated without America taking them to its heart or even recognizing their existence for the most part. It was a downright disgrace... The Pixies and Sonic Youth were so important to the '80's."

Bowie lingers momentarily in the space between words, then returns: "The third is a song by my one time muse The Legendary Stardust Cowboy. He was a stablemate of mine on Mercury Records in the late '60's and I chewed off part of his name for Ziggy, of course. When I read on his site that he thought since I'd borrowed his name that at least I should sing one of his songs, I got guilty and wanted to make amends immediately. So, I covered one of his best songs, 'I Took A Trip On A Gemini Spaceship', although he sings 'Spacecraft' on the record."

In addition to the observations of Oliveri, Daly, Klaers, Eisentrager, Weiss, Venus as well as Strouth, Gregory Setterholm of electro-pop outfit Fathom 5 also reports "Bowie activity" in the upper Midwest. "Space Oddity is not only catchy enough to be found on almost any jukebox in North America, it is also probably rock music's most balanced expression of alienation... Alienation from the perspective of the 'alien', in terms of the alien's positive psychological state of rapture within or toward the object, environment or chemical which happens to be drawing him/it further and further away from the sphere of the normal. On the local level, I see Bowie showing up unquestionably in the structure of my own work, in the high theatrics of the Horses... You'll also find him in the vocal precision and phrase control of Burning Shakespeare." On Heathen, Setterholm concludes: "It seems like an odd attempt to regress on a number of levels. I'm not quite sure what he's pulling off here; it's really great." Setterholm's opinion reflects recent reviews of Heathen. Comments have been mixed, but all seem to agree that it feels retroactive.

In reference to his writing process for the album, Bowie reveals: "Sometimes you stumble across a few chords that put you in a reflective place. 'Slip Away' started like that. It's odd, but even as a kid, I would write about 'old' and 'other' times as if I had a lot of years behind me. Now I do, so there's a difference in the weight of memory. When you're young, you're still 'becoming'. At my age, I'm more concerned
with being. I kind of miss that 'becoming' stage, as most times, you don't really know what's around the corner." Taking on a more confidential tone with his words, he continues: "Strangely, some songs you don't really want to write. I didn't like writing 'Heathen'. There was something so ominous and final about it. It was early in the morning, the sun was rising and through the windows, I could see two deer grazing down below in the field. In the distance, a car was driving slowly past the reservoir and these words were just streaming out and tears were running down my face." Listening to the lyrics of Heathen, the occurrence of 9/11 (a little too close to home- Bowie currently resides in New York) comes to mind. While Bowie seems hesitant to discuss the subject, he did offer the following: "We had most everything laid down by early September and then THAT happened. 9/11. The weirdest and toughest thing for us was having the Scorchio Quartet come up from New York to play the [string] parts that Tony had written for them. It was terrific that they could even think about coming up [to Shokan] to work after such a traumatic experience. Trains were out and the roads were all closing down, so it was no small thing that they did. The first piece we worked on with them was 'I Would Be Your Slave', an entreaty to the highest being to show himself in a way that could be understood." In addition, a possible reaction to the death of compatriot and fellow musician George Harrison seems to have found refuge on Heathen.
Bowie quotes Harrison in the first verse of the title track, reminding himself as well as the listener that "All things must pass... "

Another contributing factor to the nostalgic feeling of Heathen can be traced to the use of vintage synthesizers. On two of them- the EMS AKS and the Stylophone (which Bowie appeared in an add for after the enormous success of Space Oddity in 1969)- Bowie supplies the following anecdotes: "Some years ago, a friend very kindly bought me the original EMS AKS briefcase synth that Eno used on so many of those classic records of the '70's- the one he used on Low and Heroes. We've put it back into service again, most obviously on 'Cactus'. Taking it through customs has always been a stomach turning affair as it looks like a briefcase bomb. Eno got pulled out of line on several occasions. The Stylophone is one of the looniest of pre-synths. It came out in the '60's and I first used it on 'Space Oddity'. It was really cheap and the tone is nasty as hell... It only plays one note at a time and you have to use a stylus to get at the keyboard, like a pen. It has no volume control, so you do that by putting your hand over the speaker. But it's got something about it... You can hear it really well on the end of 'Slip Away'."

Further elaborating on the recording process, perhaps as a pointer to fellow artists, Bowie says: "When I need to listen to something critically, I put myself in a place that has nothing to do with the industrialized process we're going through, being in studio and all that. I'll pretend that I'm on a ship, say, and I'm looking out to sea, where there's a distant fog on the horizon. I listen to the piece of music from that place and see what it does to me. It amazes me sometimes that even intelligent people will analyze a situation or make a judgment after only recognizing the standard structure of a piece. They will then confront the whole thing with a standard reaction and a standard reaction does not allow for deviancies. It's the kiss of death in creating something." Bowie then moves on to wrap up his round of questions confidently: "What is very enlightening for me right now is that I'm arriving at a place of peace with my writing that I've never experienced before. I'm going to be writing some of the most worthwhile things I've ever written in the coming years. I've got to think of myself as the luckiest guy... Robert Johnson only had one album's worth of work as his legacy. That's all life allowed him."

Bowie's legacy is quite another story. Watching
All The Pretty Horses play The Lab that night, a tear found it's way across my cheek. I not only saw, but felt David's influence on the future of music. In three seconds flat, I began to recognize it not just in Venus or in our bands, but in popular acts the world over... Annie Lennox, Prince, Beck, Kiss, Coldplay, Japan X, the Verve, Madonna, Blur, U2, P. Diddy, Moby, The Cure... just to name a few. While this observation seems miniscule in the grand scheme of things (i.e. living in a world where war has become the new entertainment), it leads one to evaluate the bigger picture. The fact that this man- once no more than an inquisitive boy with a fantastic imagination from the British working class neighborhood of Brixton- could help connect so many of us and that we, in turn, have connected with him is nothing short of amazing. Like most of us, he's been searching for an answer to the question... the ultimate, innate question. By fully embracing that process- creating Heathen and every album that came before it- he has helped to verify the power as well as the importance of music. From day one, David Robert Jones- the performer we have come to know as David Bowie- has been on a journey. He has taken not only his audience, but a rather large portion of the music world- including ours- with him.