I’ve read them all. None of the obituaries succeed. There is too much to say and too little space. Besides, in his ultimate subversion, David Bowie wrote his own.
Early on during my tenure at AP, I’d asked a superior editor if I could contribute to Bowie’s death “preparedness,” and was denied. I never asked again. I was so hurt at being shut down. Sure, I am as biased as they come, but I challenge anyone to find a rival then and now in the mainstream media who knows (and cares) more about the endless well of Bowie’s far-reaching breakthroughs in myriad forms of art. To call him a rock star is to call me a fan. I lose all humility when it comes to the prowess of my idol worship.