TO MY MOTHER ON HER 69th BIRTHDAY
I return to this page a few days after Bowie's death to make a confession.
My mother hated me singing his songs; and this, as on other occasions, was an act of defiance.
Of course it wasn't his music she hated; just me sounding like someone else.
It was a show-biz mum thing, and a form of psycho-rigidity.
I was touched by the Bluebird every time he fell out of the nest. Here's to the great Homo Cameleon!
And here's to you mum, because you just died too. Ha, we ended up singing 'Something in the Air'.