In which I *am* the young American
Happy what would be three-quarters of a century to the one and only Starman. Though the ‘man’ part of that portmanteau, I think, belies his enormous contributions to bringing gender weirdness to the fore of the music industry and mainstream media.
Hunky Dory has been on heavy rotation this winter (it celebrated 50 years last month), my new favorite track being “Andy Warhol,” which is sequenced right before my longtime favorite “Song for Bob Dylan.” The opening clip of studio chatter—“It’s War-hol, actually”—the sound of his voice—couldn’t you just die?
Fun fact: in “Song for Bob Dylan,” the chorus lyric “here she comes, here she comes, here she comes again” is rumored to be a specific reference. To whom? Why, to the girl who links Dylan to the aforementioned Warhol…
I happen to be surrounded by his aura in the city I live in, a city he too chose once upon a time. But regardless of where on this planet I find myself, I, and everybody else, will be hearing and singing his songs for the next 75 million years. Or however long it takes for us to catch up to him.
Image: The Man Who Sold the World, his third studio album, released 4 September 1970