Preface To Quicksand: That David Bowie Song

(image from the song's Wikipedia page)

Bowie's album Hunky Dory became my friend I think in the eleventh grade. Before I acquired it, I probably listened to Ziggy Stardust & Scary Monsters more. I don't think I had begun listening to Diamond Dogs or Low at this point. I think I bought it at a chain store (like Sound Warehouse) at "the Nice Price" around the same time I bought Aladdin Sane. I was not as enamored with that album as much as with Hunky Dory.

With the exception of "Changes," which I had heard way too often at that point, & which I think I was tired of by the time it was included in The Breakfast Club, I would generally listen to the album all the way through, starting on side A with "Oh You Pretty Things." I have memories of listening to it while the night came on, my room getting increasingly dark, & me refusing to turn the light on as I rose from bed to flip the record over. While I was never as enamored of the song as I was - & am - of "The Bewlay Brothers," I found "Quicksand" fascinating.

Back then, I imagined songs had some essence of truth that needed to be teased out, like explicating a poem. I had no idea how Bowie wrote songs - the two other musicians I paid the most attention to at the time were Elvis Costello & John Lennon. Lennon's penchant for absurdity was difficult to fit into that paradigm - yes, "One & one & one is three," but did that mean something? Despite his vitriol, Elvis Costello was a bit more fun - he liked to pun & write lines like, "You lack lust, you're so lackluster." But "I'm living in a silent film/Portraying Himmler's sacred realm of dream reality"? Himmler? The Nazi?!?

Most depressing for a sixteen year old person is the repeated lines (I guess it's the chorus):

Don't believe in yourself

Don't deceive with belief

Knowledge comes with death's release

Good grief. How could that possibly be true? Even then I didn't believe in anything happening to me after death. What were you supposed to know after "death's release"? You couldn't really know anything. Was that the truth?

Now I wonder if I ever spoke to anyone about these questions I had. Probably not. They probably just took up residence within me in the darkened room of my teenage years. The song, like the album, lives inside me still, having taken hold about forty years ago. & it is somewhat responsible for this week's theme.

Which I'll talk about tomorrow.