I can't help thinking about me.

Yes, I'm back again already. Normally I wouldn't do two posts so close together, but this has been simmering on the back burner for several weeks. 

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I've had quite a bit of time with I Dig Everything: The 1966 Pye Singles, as I've been listening to it concurrently with the other albums since Christmas. So I thought that it was high time I wrote about it before I catch up with Ziggy in America in a couple weeks' time. Before I get into it, let me just say that it's quite hard to believe this is the same person who would eventually give us.. well... just about everything he did after this. Prepare yourself for David Bowie: The Teenage Mod.

*****

These songs take me back to a time and place I've been before, in a place called Sudbury, Ontario, from 1994-1999. But not because I was listening to them then... because I was living them. I left home twice. The first time, I left to go to university. I was 18. When that was finished I went home, only to leave again, this time for real and pretty much for good. I was 23. It was quite a trip. I was lovelorn, hopeful, and penniless. It was terrifying, yet exciting. 

Listening to these songs, I'm struck by the vulnerability expressed therein, the self-doubt of youth combined with a buoyant optimism for what's to come. And yet, there's a maturity about them that I sure as hell didn't possess at the age of 19.

Initially, this collection of songs made me want to write a letter to 19-year-old David Bowie -- a letter from the future, telling him that it's going to be alright. He'll make it on his own. Those he is leaving back home in the never-neverland will eat their words.

Then I realized that 19-year-old David Bowie doesn't need a letter from some Johnny-come-lately fan nearly half a century in the future. Because despite his fleeting insecurity and wonderment with the world around him, he knows. He knows it's going to be alright, that he's going to succeed.

There is something in his voice that defies the words he's singing. This coming of age story, while genuine in some respects, almost seems obligatory, as if to say, "Yes... I'm broke, struggling and living in the bad part of town. I have a long, long way to go, but I can see the future, so say what you want. You'll see."

Even though we've all lived it -- everyone of us who left home and went off to chase our dreams and make a life for ourselves -- no one can tell this story the way he can. So I'll let him tell it himself. All I've done is arrange the order of the songs here so that they follow more of a narrative.

Now I leave them all in the never-neverland

The station seems so cold, the ticket's in my hand

My girl calls my name... "Hi, Dave"

Drop in, see you around, come back, if you're this way again

Got a backstreet room in the bad part of town and I dig everything
I'd see people in the street below, who don't know where they're going
They don't dig anything
Everything's fine and I dig everything

I would walk with you
Talk with you, drink with you
If you drop that halo that you're wearing on the ground
Too bad, I'm not losing sleep

Hey, hey, good morning girl, but I can't pass the time of day

So go tell the man that collects the dues
That you saw a guy without any shoes
Who would do the job if he was built that way

Two by two, they go walking by
Hand in hand, they watch me cry

Lonely nights, I dream you're there
Morning sun and you're gone

[And I say to myself] I can't get what I want
[And I say to myself] And it makes me sad
[And I say to myself] I can't get what I want
[And I say to myself] And it makes me mad
And I say to myself that she shouldn't love anybody else in the world but me

The story is all too familiar, and crazy nostalgic. It feels just like yesterday that I myself left home, thrilled with the feeling of independence, so excited and optimistic about the future whilst being broke and looking for work, continuing to struggle while friends and colleagues succeeded, not giving up, listening to my intuition and rejecting opportunities that would lead me astray, feeling the crushing loneliness after leaving behind someone I loved, and then getting friendzoned by a new love I wanted. 

If only I knew what David Bowie seems to have known back then, that it would all work out somehow. Maybe not the way I expected, with some unfortunate mistakes and regrets, but with good things ahead. Of course, there are things I'd change if I could. If I could send a letter to my 19-year-old self, I know what I'd say: don't be careless with other people's hearts, don't spend all your cash, and don't wait until 2013 to start listening to David Bowie.