Why David Bowie is still underrated

Is it just me, or is there quite a lot being written about David Bowie at the moment? Of course, there’s the fact that the V&A’s blockbuster exhibition has coincided with the totally unexpected appearance of his first album for ten years. (While putting the exhibition together, the curators could never have dreamed that on the day it opened, a new Bowie album would be number one in 40 countries.) Yet for some cynics on the internet — never hard to find — the recent outbreak of Bowie mania is a simple question of demographics: the media is now run by people who grew up with him, and apparently never get bored of banging on about it. Seeing ‘Starman’ on Top of the Pops! Poring over the lyrics of ‘Aladdin Sane’ on the bus back from the record shop! That sort of thing!

Well, I must admit to my fair share of lyric-poring (still word-perfect on ‘Aladdin Sane’, as a matter of fact). I also saw that ‘Starman’ performance, although I can’t help thinking that its instant effect on a whole generation has been mythologised a bit. Even so, I’m not prepared to concede for a moment that the cynics might be on to something.

For a start, both the album and exhibition are great. ‘His best since Scary Monsters’ (1980) has been the traditional verdict on every Bowie album since about 1987. But this time it’s actually true. Bowie’s long-established M.O. is to use what he needs from his obvious influences, discard the rest and twist what remains to his own purposes. On The Next Day his model seems to be what some have called the ‘venerable’ album, where people such as Johnny Cash or Bob Dylan have pondered their mortality. Like them, he includes plenty of references to his own past — always a winner with the fans — and squarely faces up to the tricky business of ageing.