Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane, the Thin White Duke. Gender Bender. Rebel. Songwriter. Fashion Icon. Rock God. One of the most influential creative artists of his generation, David Bowie morphed from one glittering incarnation to the next over the course of five decades—an enduring superstar who remained endlessly enigmatic and always ahead of his time. Discover the man behind the myth in this intimate and in-depth biography—featuring a full-color sixteen-page photo insert.
David Bowie passed away after an eighteen-month battle with cancer on January 10, 2016. Few knew of his illness, and Bowie flawlessly orchestrated his last goodbye with the release of his final (and some say best) album, Blackstar , featuring the haunting song “Lazarus,” and its accompanying video, a farewell message to his millions of fans. Throughout his iconic career that included such hits as “Let’s Dance,” “Space Oddity,” “Heroes,” “Modern Love,” and “Life on Mars,” Bowie managed to retain his Hollywood star mystique.
Through in-depth interviews with those who knew him best, New York Times bestselling author Wendy Leigh reveals the man behind Bowie’s myriad images—up to and including his role as stay-at-home dad, happily monogamous in his quarter-of-a-century-plus marriage to supermodel Iman. In this “sizzling” ( Radar Online ) new biography, Leigh brings fresh insights to Bowie’s battles with addiction; his insatiable sex life—from self-avowed gay to bisexual to resolutely heterosexual—and countless conquests; his childhood in a working-class London neighborhood and the troubling family influences that fueled his relentless pursuit of success; and much more. This exploration of an artist beloved by so many reveals the man at the center of the mythos.
I have read 31 of David's top 100 so it turns out that if we had ever met, which was always somewhat unlikely, we would have had lots to talk about.
Interviews With Francis Bacon by David Sylvester Billy Liar by Keith Waterhouse Room At The Top by John Braine On Having No Head by Douglass Harding Kafka Was The Rage by Anatole Broyard A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess City Of Night by John Rechy The Brief Wondrous Life Of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert Iliad by Homer As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner Tadanori Yokoo by Tadanori Yokoo Berlin Alexanderplatz by Alfred Döblin Inside The Whale And Other Essays by George Orwell Mr. Norris Changes Trains by Christopher Isherwood Halls Dictionary Of Subjects And Symbols In Art by James A. Hall David Bomberg by Richard Cork Blast by Wyndham Lewis Passing by Nella Larson Beyond The Brillo Box by Arthur C. Danto The Origin Of Consciousness In The Breakdown Of The Bicameral Mind by Julian Jaynes In Bluebeard’s Castle by George Steiner Hawksmoor by Peter Ackroyd The Divided Self by R. D. Laing The Stranger by Albert Camus Infants Of The Spring by Wallace Thurman The Quest For Christa T by Christa Wolf The Songlines by Bruce Chatwin Nights At The Circus by Angela Carter The Master And Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov The Prime Of Miss Jean Brodie by Muriel Spark Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov Herzog by Saul Bellow Puckoon by Spike Milligan Black Boy by Richard Wright The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea by Yukio Mishima Darkness At Noon by Arthur Koestler The Waste Land by T.S. Elliot McTeague by Frank Norris Money by Martin Amis The Outsider by Colin Wilson Strange People by Frank Edwards English Journey by J.B. Priestley A Confederacy Of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole The Day Of The Locust by Nathanael West 1984 by George Orwell The Life And Times Of Little Richard by Charles White Awopbopaloobop Alopbamboom: The Golden Age of Rock by Nik Cohn Mystery Train by Greil Marcus Beano (comic, ’50s) Raw (comic, ’80s) White Noise by Don DeLillo Sweet Soul Music: Rhythm And Blues And The Southern Dream Of Freedom by Peter Guralnick Silence: Lectures And Writing by John Cage Writers At Work: The Paris Review Interviews edited by Malcolm Cowley The Sound Of The City: The Rise Of Rock And Roll by Charlie Gillete Octobriana And The Russian Underground by Peter Sadecky The Street by Ann Petry Wonder Boys by Michael Chabon Last Exit To Brooklyn by Hubert Selby, Jr. A People’s History Of The United States by Howard Zinn The Age Of American Unreason by Susan Jacoby Metropolitan Life by Fran Lebowitz The Coast Of Utopia by Tom Stoppard The Bridge by Hart Crane All The Emperor’s Horses by David Kidd Fingersmith by Sarah Waters Earthly Powers by Anthony Burgess The 42nd Parallel by John Dos Passos Tales Of Beatnik Glory by Ed Saunders The Bird Artist by Howard Norman Nowhere To Run: The Story Of Soul Music by Gerri Hirshey Before The Deluge by Otto Friedrich Sexual Personae: Art And Decadence From Nefertiti To Emily Dickinson by Camille Paglia The American Way Of Death by Jessica Mitford In Cold Blood by Truman Capote Lady Chatterly’s Lover by D.H. Lawrence Teenage by Jon Savage Vile Bodies by Evelyn Waugh The Hidden Persuaders by Vance Packard The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin Viz (comic, early ’80s) Private Eye (satirical magazine, ’60s – ’80s) Selected Poems by Frank O’Hara The Trial Of Henry Kissinger by Christopher Hitchens Flaubert’s Parrot by Julian Barnes Maldodor by Comte de Lautréamont On The Road by Jack Kerouac Mr. Wilson’s Cabinet of Wonders by Lawrence Weschler Zanoni by Edward Bulwer-Lytton Transcendental Magic, Its Doctine and Ritual by Eliphas Lévi The Gnostic Gospels by Elaine Pagels The Leopard by Giusseppe Di Lampedusa Inferno by Dante Alighieri A Grave For A Dolphin by Alberto Denti di Pirajno The Insult by Rupert Thomson In Between The Sheets by Ian McEwan A People’s Tragedy by Orlando Figes Journey Into The Whirlwind by Eugenia Ginzburg
This is not the biography you want to read, well, unless you are only interested in what tabloids would write about the man. If you're interested in the brilliant musician, talented actor, and fashion icon side of Bowie, look for a more superior biography. Shouldn't be difficult.
The late Wendy Leigh wrote “Bowie: the Biography” two years before Bowie succumbed to cancer. Sadly, Leigh died in June 2016 after falling from the balcony of her London apartment. It may seem like a book tainted by death, but it is, in fact, a celebration of life. Specifically, it is a celebration of the very fascinating, exuberant, occasionally troubled, but wonderful life of David Bowie.
There have literally been dozens of biographies written about Bowie, and I’m sure that since his death, more books about him will be popping up on bookshelves in the near future. Leigh’s biography doesn’t add anything new to the story, but it is an entertaining read nonetheless.
One of my complaints about the book may be nothing more than a prudish annoyance I had with Leigh’s apparent obsession with Bowie’s sex life. As rich a topic as that may be to mine, I felt that Leigh bordered on the sensationalistic, lascivious, and prurient. In some parts, she went straight over the border and set up camp.
Upon finishing the book, however, my thoughts on the topic have shifted somewhat, and I am beginning to see why Leigh focused her attention throughout the book on Bowie’s sexuality.
At the height of his Ziggy Stardust era, Bowie was unabashed about his declaration of bisexuality. His Ziggy persona oozed sexuality, which was the point, but, more importantly, Bowie’s wild and open lifestyle gave voice and a glimmer of hope to millions of young men and women growing up in sexually repressive households, cities, and countries.
Bowie was bragging about homosexuality and bisexuality in an era when such things were still, for the most part, underground. It was a topic that was, at the very least, not spoken about in decent company, if at all.
That Bowie was accused of being “confused” or “pretentious” was, of course, de rigueur for a rock star of Bowie’s ilk, whose day-to-day sexuality was as ephemeral as his fashion sense.
But Bowie, according to Leigh, wasn’t being pretentious with his sexuality. He simply didn’t seem to have many inhibitions when it came to whom he slept with.
Leigh spends a lot of time on the sexual relationships Bowie had with record producers, agents, and other rock stars. Some of her anecdotes are merely speculation---his short-lived affair with Mick Jagger, for instance, was never substantiated despite rampant rumors.
The real question is: who cares?
I personally didn’t care who Bowie slept with, nor would I give the book much credence if all Leigh was doing was writing a who’s-who of everyone bedded or blown by Bowie.
Thankfully, Leigh was leading up to the climax (no pun intended) of her story: Bowie’s introduction to, and subsequent marriage with, Iman.
Apparently, marriage and monogamy eventually suited Bowie well. He was, by all accounts that counted (namely Iman), a loving and doting husband. He was also a very loving and affectionate father to his son, Duncan (from his previous marriage with Mary Angela Barnett) and daughter, Alexandria.
Leigh’s book attempts to demonstrate that even a sexually wild rock star like Bowie can find love and happiness in a monogamous relationship.
I'll put it this way: if you're hoping to find out which guitar Carlos Alomar is playing on which album, this is not the book for you. If, on the other hand, you want to know when, where, and if Bowie bonked Bianca, it may be right up your alley. In fact Bowie's own member gets a lot more words than any band member. Not to say that Bowie's private life and private parts aren't interesting reading material, and the author does a reasonably good job of combing various sources to try and sort fact from fiction (this, of course, being an impossible job in Bowie's case.) It's lurid tabloid stuff and not a bad read if you're taking a plane across the water or going cross country on a bus or train. But if you're a young musician hoping to learn recording secrets shared by Eno and Bowie, forget it. There's plenty of other thin white duke material out there over which to pour.
When I first saw this book I thought it was probably cheap tabloid filler. I then saw it at the library and gave it a go. I should have judged the book by its stupidly designed cover(seriously, who's uneducated enough to change his eye color?). This is book about who Bowie slept with, and a poorly researched one at that. Halfway through I realized there wasn't even any detail of the actual recording processes. Station to Station was covered with about a sentence saying no one was allowed in.
The major thing that bugged me the most was the way Coco was introduced. She wasn't introduced as the woman who kept David alive in 1975 when one source said if it wasn't for her, he probably wouldn't be here. No, she is demoted to just another girl in love with David within the first two pages. This books classified women as sex objects even more than Bowie did.
The most apparent flaw in the research and cements the cheap "shocking" tabloid aura is the infamous "nazi salute" photo story. In this book it paints the story you'll find most places, out of his mind on cocaine fascist trip Bowie. It then goes on to say how sad it was since Coco was of Jewish heritage and gives a quote of Bowie saying he was just waving and someone took a photo. It failed to mention theres video that shows he was just waving. Its even on YouTube. Its very clear the painting Leigh was trying to paint.
While this is an interesting read, its essentially the 50 shades of Bowie in the Bowie biography world. If you have never read a Bowie biography, do not read this one. Starman is quite good, dont waste your time or let this be the primary influence on you. If you know Bowie quite well, this will be hilarious and outraging but overall leaves a dirty taste in your mouth and it wasn't Bowie who left it there. While I enjoy drug binges tales and orgies as much as the Bowie fan, we're Bowie fans because of his music, not his dick size.
This is the biography of Bowie's penis. As many other reviewers said, there's not much about the music, way too many assumptions, few lines about his art and inspiration (except if he slept with her/him) and it's not very well written. I love Bowie and his music, I've been to London only to be able to visit the "David Bowie is" exhibition at the V&A, I find him one of the most attractive, beautiful and interesting men ever, but reading this book made me feel like I was "adoring" a sexual maniac, a depressive freak, a drug slave, a childish adult with a mental condition. Maybe all those "Bowies" are somehow true in a way, maybe I'm biased, but I refuse to believe this magnificent artist is just what this book presents.
As an avid fan of David Bowie, I couldn't pass up this new biography when it was first published. I've never read any of Leigh's other works, but I felt like I was reading an issue of Us Weekly rather than an actual biography. Sure, Leigh did her research and interviewed many people, but I felt like I was reading a laundry list of everyone David Bowie ever slept with. I'm not naive about the rock n' roll lifestyle - I knew that he had dalliances with many males and females back in the day, but after so many accounts of how giving and awesome of a lover Bowie was grew rather repetitive pretty quickly. Yes, I get it, he was a pale, skinny rock god that made his lovers feel as they were the only ones in the world, but I felt as if Leigh was herself a groupie that never had a shot at the prize, ergo, this book was written.
I've always been amazed at how talented and layered Bowie is as both an artist and a human being. I was hoping to read more about his music, especially the years that brought listeners The Berlin Trilogy, but what I read wasn't anything I hadn't read about before. (Although, I will never get tired of the story about how the song "Heroes" was written.) Nothing new was offered at the table. I also hoped to get a better sense of where he came from, family wise, but it was recycled information.
This book was interesting to read, but it left a lot to be desired. It was more style than substance, and while Bowie may have been accused of it in certain points of his long career, I would not recommend this particular biography to someone interested in Bowie and his career.
This book reads like a fanfic piece written by a sex addict. The writing style is juvenile, poorly edited, often disjointed, and just not good. I was excited to win this book because I really enjoy Bowie's music, but barely a page went by when some conquest of his wasn't discussed in awkward detail. Very little focus was paid to Bowie's music. In a bio about a musician you want to see ALL aspects of the figure: personal, professional, creative. Also, so much of the detail reads like tabloid reporting: short on facts, long on conjecture and assumption. Any discerning reader would have a very hard time believing a word of what was written. Do I believe that Bowie was a randy rock star of the 70s? Sure, but dang. The only good thing I can say about it was it was a fast read.
About the best thing I can say about this book is that it is a quick read, although the author does demonstrate a serviceable knowledge of pronounce use and with some effort could become proficient in crafting intelligible clauses.
A sample sentence: “In May, 1965, now jaded with the Manish Boys, when David heard through the grapevine that the rock-and-roll band the Lower Third was looking for a new member, he auditioned for them and beat Steve Marriott, (who went on to front the Small Faces) and was invited to join the group, which consisted of Dennis Taylor on lead guitar, bass guitarist Graham Evans, and, soon after David joined as lead singer, drummer Phil Lancaster.” (page 48)
As a biographer, the author is far more fixated on her subject’s sexual encounters than she is his work, and doesn’t let an opportunity to write about genital size slip through her fingers (so to speak). She is fawning in all aspects of her depiction of her subject, with knowing nods and feigned judgement about his promiscuousness.
But it might be for the best that she sticks to writing about sex. The book contains factual inaccuracies about the Velvet Underground and Roxy Music, and she gives Iggy Pop writing credit for “China Girl,” when in fact it was co-written by him and the subject of her book. She also refers in passing to John Lennon being “slaughtered” and points out that Bowie’s family only had a black-and-white television in the early 1950s.
There are photographs, and some of them are in color.
"La musica mi ha regalato oltre quarant'anni di esperienze eccezionali. Non posso dire che abbia attenuato i dolori e le tragedie della vita, ma mi ha permesso di trascorrere molti momenti in compagnia quando mi sentivo solo ed è stata per me un mezzo sublime di comunicazione quando volevo essere in contatto con gli altri. È la porta che dà sulla mia percezione e la casa in cui vivo. " Con queste parole, il cantante, showman e attore David Robert Jones, alias David Bowie, ha trasmesso la sua passione che lo ha portato ad essere un volto conosciuto in tutto il globo. È innegabile come la sua influenza abbia cambiato la concezione della musica, degli usi e costumi abituali, ma soprattutto del mondo. Molte cose, dopo il suo avvenire, sono state viste con occhi diversi e anche se per un periodo è stato un uomo tormentato, con dipendenze da uomo comune, è riuscito a diventare una stella; una stella, la cui presenza illumina chi gli sta attorno.
A more accurate title might be "How David Bowie Slept His Way to the Top". Of course when diving into a musician's biography you expect - and want - sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll, Yet I'd like a bit more of the rock 'n' roll part. There is plenty of source material on David Bowie and this book would be better rounded if it included a bit more info about the songs and David's songwriting process. I supplemented my reading with Nicholas Pegg's The Complete David Bowie to look up the songs and albums. It is an amazing reference book and I think I got more out of that book by using "Bowie" as a timeline to flip through Pegg's reference book.
“I always had a repulsive need to be something more than human. I felt very puny as a human. I thought, 'Fuck that. I want to be a superhuman.'" ― David Bowie
Personally, I'm obsessed in the creation of oneself and subsequent re-invention of oneself, and David Bowie is the master. I tried to read through the lines and determine if he is an incredible narcissist or if his self-respect is just healthy enough that it allows him to do amazing things. I still can not decide. Was he always changing because that was the true him and he is just a man doing what he had to do to tap his creativity? Or was it all carefully planned marketing because he wanted to shock and keep the attention from his fans? Maybe a little of both. Guess that's just Bowie though - always making us wonder. Regardless, I enjoyed the ride stepping through David's evolutions and revolutions throughout the years.
One note, I'm glad that they called out David's propensity to spot trends and covered his activity of being the first artist to do many things on the internet. I was a member of Bowienet back in 1998!! I remember how it cool it was that he had a whole community to himself. But they spent more time on Bowienet than they did on the "Station to Station", "Low", or "Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps)" albums which is a shame.
I've been meaning to read a Bowie bio for many years and been told by many of my more hardcore fan friends that there weren't really any that did him justice, which I let dissuade me from being curious and just taking a chance on one. His recent death certainly made my desire more urgent, so I started with this one. I read a couple of reviews that panned this book for certain aspects (which were accurate after reading it) but I found that the author may not be as astute about the history of rock music (David Bowie invented heavy metal?) but she was clearly a fan of Bowie the man and had an ear for gossip, which in the case of a raconteur like Bowie, there was plenty. Sex, drugs and mentions of rock and roll are all on display here, as well as poignant information about his family and upbringing that gave this book a sense that this is not just a tabloid-style money grab by an estranged insider, but a story about an inspirational human being, which Bowie certainly was. There were moments where the author repeats previously told facts that seems almost senile or condescending, but overall this is a good informative read, that at the very least will serve as a good foundation to knowing about Bowie's life. Ms. Leigh has done effective research, reading relevant celebrity biographies and adding some of her own personal interviews, some of which she says were with insiders, mostly not disgruntled. Give it a go! It reads quick.
I would give the first two thirds of this audible book a barely passable review interesting only because it is so out of the norm of my reading. It is full of sex groupies and the entourage. What you always imagine must be the life of a rockstar. The final third of the book was more enjoyable to me as it moved into David's extended life with his long-term wife Iman. There well maybe better books about David Bowie but I picked this one off Amazon because the e-book and the audible book were inexpensive. I wanted to read about David whose career I never followed closely but who just died recently at the age of 69.
Overall, I liked it. However, I think it had potential to be a good biography about the life of David Bowie and instead ended up showcasing the wild side of the rock star lifestyle: "sex, drugs and rock & roll" applies here, for sure. And while Bowie was obviously no exception to the rule, he built a legacy which has inspired so many other artists and that goes beyond that. But it remains a fairly interesting book if you wish to read more about this legendary man.
I didn’t cry. Yay! But that’s because this was published before he passed. The ending still had Some Feels, though, but I was spared bawling at work this time.
Spends far more time on his relationships than his music, but it serves what I assume is the intent of the book: to show how he evolved as a person along with his music, from an indiscriminate, promiscuous rockstar to devoted husband and father. And how did I not know Iman was so badass?
There were some mentions of interests and leanings that I’m still processing how I feel about and will have to do more research to figure out the truth of it and whether or not it affects my feelings toward him and his work. Probably not, because David frikkin’ Bowie. :)
Γραμμένο με ροζ διάθεση κλειδαρότρυπας, προ θανάτου του Bowie. Μετάφραση με λάθη ("του επικεφαλή"...) και άγνοια ("ο σκηνοθέτης του Χίτλερ, ο Λένι Ρίφενσταλ"....).
Infelizmente, só fui ver as resenhas desse livro quando já estava quase acabando. Que livro ruim! David Bowie não merecia uka biografia desse nível. Não leiam!
As charming and otherwordly as David Bowie's life gets depicted, I found this biography too focused on his sexual liberation, his endowement, and his rampant drug use.
I also got a sense of an extremely opportunistic and narcisist individual. He used people with his charming British manners, as a matter of fact.
David Bowie is undeniably a legend, but I wonder if he would have got him to stardom without Angie, Coco, his managers (except for Defries), and all the people he took advange of.
Too bad that as someone always ahead of his times he did not contemplate being a vegan.
Meh. It was an ARC so I like to think some of the issues were fixed in the final book but, to be honest, it would have needed a lot more work to turn it into a deeper biography. As it stood, this was mostly about who Bowie slept with, how many drugs he did, who he had shitty/dismissive relationships with... and then circling back to how much sex and what kind of sex he had and, oh, he made music and movies and innovated presentation and distribution.
Võimalik, et mul on senini ka lihtsalt vedanud, aga sellist saasta polegi vist mulle varem kätte sattunud. Juba algallikas (s.t. ingliskeelne versioon) on sisu poolest täielik jura, eesti keelde ringi panduna läks see veelgi hullemaks.
Kusagil poole raamatu peal ma kirjutasin iseendale:
"Tõlkija Annika Laas ja toimetaja Angela Aasamets, kes on süüdi David Bowie eluloo (Kunst 2015) jõledas tõlkes, no tõesti, minge kraavi kaevama. Vaid paar tsitaati:
"Võttes arvesse, et Velvet Underground ei olnud piisavalt kuulus, et turvasüsteeme hallata, võis David hiljem kergesti lava taha hiilida."
"Ken sõlmis pikemalt mõtlemata Davidi kaasohjamise lepingu." (üldse nad vahetpidamata "ohjavad" Bowiet)
Jne jne jne. Kohutav ja väga vigane tõlge."
Ja nii ongi. Ma närisin end sellest küll läbi aga see oli paras sunnitöö. Lisaks tõlkele on raamat ka sisuliselt toimetamata või siis on toimetaja inimene, kellel pole kõige õrnematki aimu muusikamaailmast. Või kui nüüd natuke järele mõelda, siis üldse maailmast.
Autori kraesse lähevad lõputu nämmutamine, ühest asjast kümnekonna lehekülje jooksul mitu korda rääkimine, keskendumine peamiselt seksile (kellega-bowie-siis-magas-ja-kellega-pärast-seda-magas-ja-oi-issake-temaga-ta-vist-ei-maganudki) aga seegi on kirja pandud lihtsalt tüütult.
Ma ei teagi, kas korduvalt valesti kirjutatud nimed (nt. "Labyrinthi" kaas-staar Jennifer Connelly on raamatus muutunud Connollyks), labased faktivead (nt. Oona O'Neill Chaplin tituleeritakse ühes lauses nii Eugene O'Neilli kui Charlie Chaplini leseks, tegelikult oli ta O'Neilli tütar) ja paljud muud totrused ning valeinfo lähevad autori või tõlkija kraesse. Aga ega eriti vahet polekski, kes selle "au" endale saaks.
Ahjaa, ja kui see muu mula seest juhtumisi silma hakkab, siis saab lugeja teada, et Bowie tegi ka natuke muusikat ning salvestas paar albumit.
I've read several other biographies about David Bowie and this one was fairly good. It showcased his drug years and his rampant sexuality which is why most people read rock-star bios. The part I found most interesting was his mature life. I was glad to see that with age his life is truly fully developed.
Lot's of details of Bowie's life, mostly gleaned from other sources, concentrating on his drugs and sex life, but very poorly written and/or edited. I found it repetitious, wordy, exploitative, and hard to read. Again, for the Bowie-phile, if there is such a thing, it might provide some detail but I wouldn't go out of my way to read to it. It was a gift and Christmas time so...
I knew it was a supremely stupid book as soon as I got it home:the photo on the front has been colored so that Bowie's left eye is brown and his right eye is blue. Bowie does not have two differently colored irises.