David Bowie -- Low
In the wasteland that was West Chester in the late '70s, there was little on the landscape and less in entertainment options.
Used to Pop pap from Q102, I was "restless and bored." Enter a merry band of folks who would break into model homes and rearrange the furniture for fun, and changed this former Catholic school girl for good. They hung out at "Tim's basement," and all of a sudden I was one of them; their rebelliousness fascinated me. The "basement" had the most amazing collection of music I've seen, a speeding doorway into mind expansion. When I first heard Low it was like nothing I'd encountered. It was insinuating, seductive and yearning, and Bowie sang with a raw sincerity that touched my mind and soul so deeply it changed me forever. I wanted to dance, cry, have sex, talk politics and change the world. It didn't turn out to be my favorite Bowie album, but it lead me to Eno, Fripp, Talking Heads, B52's, Elvis Costello, Iggy Pop and The Sex Pistols. It brought man and machine together, erupted gender-bender possibilities, expanded my view of the world and gave me a language I still struggle with, gladly. To this day, Bowie is still one of my favorite "Heroes."
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