Monthly Archives: September 2006

The Little Fat Man

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And, ever true to his prognostications of his own day to day life, immediately after retiring, he’s been caught performing for TV. The result is the new smash hit, The Little Fat Man. Here’s the lyrics as I couldn’t catch it quick enough:

Little fat man who sold his soul,
Little fat man who sold his dream…

Pathetic little fat man,
No one’s bloody laughing,
The clown that no one laugh’s at,
They all just wish he’d die.

He’s so depressed at being hated,
Fatso takes his own life,
He blows his stupid brains out,
But the twat would probably miss.

He sold his soul for a shot at fame,
Catchphrase and wig and the jokes are lame,
He’s got no style, he’s got no grace,
He’s banal and facile, he’s a fat waste of space

See his pug-nosed face…Pug, pug, pug, pug,
See his pug-nosed face…Pug, pug, pug, pug,
See his pug-nosed face…Pug, pug, pug, pug,
The little fat man with the pug-nosed face, Pug, pug, pug, pug,
Little fat man, pug-nosed face, Pug, pug, pug, pug,
He’s a little fat pug-nosed face, Pug, pug, pug, pug.


Apparently Bowie’s going to be fairly regular on Extras. According to an email I received, he’s going to make another appearance on Extras for season two.

The African – Keep a Child Alive

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Much has been made about Bowie’s chameleon personality and how he seems to shed himself every so often. Well, he seems to be in that mode again. Not too long ago, he “retired” from music again. Then decided to pop up in a tv show or two. Now, he’s not even white again:

All silliness aside, Iman has been named a spokesperson for Keep A Child Alive, to sponsor help for children who are victims of AIDS in Africa. The musically retired white Bowie will do a song or two as the activist African Bowie. Sounds about right to me.

This isn’t the first time Bowie has decided he wasn’t white:

And, probably the best song off one of his worst albums, Lodger, was a forgotten tune called African Night Flight. There’s really nothing African about it other than the title, but it’s still a good song.

This time however, I think Bowie’s motivation is clear. Iman is enough to make any man be African, if just for one day.

Space Oddity

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It just suddenly struck me that in my desire to “interpret” some of my favorite Bowie tunes, I’ve forgotten probably his signature song, Space Oddity. If you don’t know the lyrics to this one by heart, you’re probably not hanging out here much. My interpretation is it’s a song about isolation, about being totally alone floating around Earth. However, another interpretation is Scott Carpenter, the astronaut, went into space about that time and did some very odd things while there, like reciting poetry and such. A lot of people credit this event as being the inspiration to Space Oddity. I believe it’s a combination of both. Regardless, there are MANY versions of this song, some better than others. But, it was this song that got me hooked on Bowie around 1975 or so when he appeared on The Midnight Special. Here is what I saw then:


It was basically the final farewell as Mick and David wouldn’t perform together for nearly two decades. The original demo to Space Oddity is a riot. But, it just doesn’t seem quite right here. So, I’ll save it for later. For reasons beyond my comprehension, the 1980 Floor Show has never been released in any capacity. Bowie would quickly ditch Ziggy after this show for the Young American and his glam days were over. But, boy, did he go out with a bang. More on that later.

Blue Jean

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Got a special request from a fella to post the Blue Jean video. That hit a nerve with me because visually it’s one of my favorites. And, as much as Tonight was panned, Blue Jean’s one of my favorites. There’s nothing really tricky about the song. Good rhythm, simple guitar licks, fun, fun, fun lyrics:

Blue jean-i just met me a girl named blue jean
Blue jean-she got a camouflaged face and no money
Remember they always let you down when you need em
Oh, blue jean-is heaven any sweeter than blue jean
She got a police bike
She got a turned up nose
Sometimes I feel like (oh, the whole human race)
Jazzin for blue jean (oh, and when my blue jeans blue)
Blue jean can send me (oh, somebody send me)
Somebody send me (oh, somebody send me)

One day Im gonna write a poem in a letter
One day Im gonna get that faculty together
Remember like everybody has to wait in line
Blue jean-look out world you know Ive got mine
She got latin roots
She got everything

Sometimes I feel like (oh, the whole human race)
Jazzin for blue jean (oh, and when my blue jeans blue)
Blue jean can tempt me (oh, somebody send me)
Somebody sent me (oh, somebody send me)

Sometimes I feel like (oh, the whole human race)
Jazzin for blue jean (oh, and when my blue jeans blue)
Blue jean can tempt me (oh, somebody send me)
Somebody sent me (oh, somebody send me)
Somebody somebody (oh, somebody send me)
Oh, somebody send me (oh, somebody send me)

No dogs decaying here, just a fun song. The only way it could be any better was if Bowie made the video as fun as well. And, he did:

Screaming Lord Byron was one of Bowie’s most visually striking characters. However, he only lived in this short video. This clip was from a longer video, but best I recall, Lord Byron appears only singing the song. Shame too, I’d LOVE to have seen what Bowie could have done expanding Lord Byron. Instead, he went blonde and crooned. He should have stuck with Lord Byron. Now, I don’t think I’m doing Bowie any injustice by posting these videos here, the quality is crap. If you want the real thing:

Guy Fournier – Defecating ecstacy

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Guy Fournier did a strange thing on Canadien radio last week, he claimed that defecating was more enjoyable at his age than sex. For that, his career is dead. But, the bigger picture to me is I think I’d rather be dead than enjoy a poop more than a poke. My opinion may change over time, but at this time, I’m serious. However, the more important thing and why Guy is featured here is because his entire episode brought back memories of one of the best written songs Bowie ever did. It got very little attention at the time, but it’s a hell of a song. Per the norm of the Diamond Dogs era, the lyrics are incredible. Let’s look, shall we? From We Are The Dead:

Something kind of hit me today
I looked at you and wondered if you saw things my way
People will hold us to blame
It hit me today, it hit me today

We’re taking it hard all the time
Why don’t we pass it by?
Just reply, you’ve changed your mind
We’re fighting with the eyes of the blind
Taking it hard, taking it hard

Yet now, We feel that we are paper, choking on you nightly
They tell me “Son, we want you, be elusive, but don’t walk far”
For we’re breaking in the new boys, deceive your next of kin
For you’re dancing where the dogs decay, defecating ecstasy
You’re just an ally of the leecher
Locator for the virgin King, but I love you in your fuck-me pumps
And your nimble dress that trails
Oh, dress yourself, my urchin one, for I hear them on the rails
Because of all we’ve seen, because of all we’ve said
We are the dead

One thing kind of touched me today
I looked at you and counted all the times we’d laid
Pressing our love through the night
Knowing it’s right, knowing it’s right

Now I’m hoping someone will care
Living on the breath of a hope to be shared
Trusting on the sons of our love
That someone will care, someone will care

But now, we’re today’s scrambled creatures, locked in tomorrow’s double feature
Heaven’s on the pillow, its silence competes with hell
It’s a twenty-four hour service, guaranteed to make you tell
And the streets are full of press men
Bent on getting hung and buried
And the legendary curtains are drawn ’round Baby Bankrupt
Who sucks you while you’re sleeping
It’s the theater of financiers
Count them, fifty ’round a table
White and dressed to kill

Oh caress yourself, my juicy
For my hands have all but withered
Oh dress yourself my urchin one, for I hear them on the stairs
Because of all we’ve seen, because of all we’ve said
We are the dead
We are the dead
We are the dead

This was Bowie painting his vision of Orwell’s 1984. If you read Orwell’s book, it has NOTHING on this nightmare.

A lot of my gripes with today’s music is it lacks imagination and musical creativity. We Are The Dead is exactly the stuff I miss. It’s slow, it’s complicated, the words paint a vision that is easy to see, you definitely can not dance to it, and, to understand it, you not only have to listen carefully to the words, you might even have to whip out a dictionary and do some research. This is a thinking man’s song only. Somehow, for some strange reason, I think it is a song Guy Fournier’s listened to.

Aladdin is for the family?

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For my birthday, Mrs. Moon, Moonlet, and the Mooncess got me this:

Now that was very cool. What I found odd about it was where they got it.

Dawahares. Now, Dawahares isn’t that big a chain, so I guess I need to describe it a little. They are where you usually buy stuff like this:

Their “back to school” stuff pleases all principals. They are definitely the farthest thing on the planet from the hippest alternative clothing store you will find.

This kind of bums me out.

The second thing I noticed is it is kind of a watered down version of Aladdin. Sort of gives me the feeling it is meant for little girls ( pinks instead of blood reds ). The Mooncess, at 13 going on 15, even said she wanted it. That kind of bums me out as well.

Aladdin Sane, the androgynous asexual from Mars, is now marketed for little girls in family clothing stores and no one is is bothered by that.

What has my life come to?