"Stark, it's stark. And the object of me getting around to doing that, to bringing it there, was to produce an extreme of the opposite psychic movement. You had to be big and fat and puffy and pink, and wrapped up in ribbons. Not even a nice shocking pink, but a horribly tatty pink, before it could get any where near real black and white. You can't come out of Dylan right into black and white. No way. There's no

friction."

— David Bowie

15 February 1976

White light, white heat, white duke indeed. In this age where one longs for grand illusion David Bowie can still convince a lot of people that something is happening here. By sauntering onstage dressed only in black and white (he may have changed outfits by now but the thought will remain the same), and performing under hot, white neon lights (which he claims to have stolen from Brechtian theater), David's new show is perhaps more theatrical than any that have preceded it. More theatrical because he's attempting to convince the audience that it's real, just him — A Man and His Music. But make no mistake, this is a show, not a concert. Once again, like with the zipup Ziggy patterned jumpsuit and vinyl boots, the long striped sock, the pink jockstrap, this is a stage act.

Bowie even moves onstage like an actor. A film actor — and the best of them know that standing still in front of the camera often commands more attention. Less is more. More focused, and if anything comes through on this tour, it is that the focus is more than ever on The Star. No more cute guitarist to go down on, no more shoving the band to the side of the stage in an attempt to make them irrelevant (that just pointed out that they were A Problem, What to do with them?). This band stands behind Bowie but are visually so unimportant that they might as well be behind a curtain. It's all well and good to hire "excellent musicians" to back you so no one can shout "musical incompetence" (this seems to matter to many people). But visually, conceptually, these players have nothing to do with Bowie. I mean yeah, he sounds better than if he just picked up some street corner hippie musicians a la Chuck Berry ("Hey man, I'm performing with Bowie tonight.:.") but so what. Seeing these "fine players" in hats, plus L.A. leather outfits, is just a visual throwaway. Actually, I love when Bowie stands to the side of the stage to watch the solos of Carlos Alomar, Dennis Davis, Tony Kaye, and nods his head like he's really digging it. Aside from admiring such fine acting, it makes one long for the star's speedy return to center stage, and I mean fast. Don't think David doesn't know it.

David's admitted to "stealing from everybody," "wearing a lot of Puerto Rican clothing while I was living in New York," and is "now buying tweed jackets from Sears & Roebuck." But what Bowie wears and how it looked was never as important as how it felt. When I first saw him in that grey patterned1 jumpsuit and red vinyl boots with the shock of short orange hair, he said he'd not seen Clockwork Orange, nevertheless, he looked the way that movie felt. Always at least one-half step ahead of many and a whole step and a half ahead of the mass audience, Bowie was putrageous to attract attention, to cr&ate illusion. He managed to always look like what felt right at the time. So of course, what else for him now but black and white? (His baggy pants aren't as flattering, or as sexy as they could be. With such a skinny frame, I'd still prefer tight trousers. But tight trpusers have always been an integral part of rock and roll, and Bowie says he's no rockstar. He's certainly not a punk, so maybe he shouldn't wear tight pants. We'll be content with Tom Verlaine wearing the tight pants...)

Aside from the feel, which is correct, how does David look? Gorgeous, what do you think? In that silver screen way. I asked him when he first realized that he was good looking and he laughed. "Oh...yes, I remember, but I'm not telling you. I was naked, and I was looking at myself in the mirror... Then later I got 'round to looking at my face." Hmmm. Nevertheless, there must have been a time when this man realized that he was extraordinary looking and from then on in, it must have been pretty easy. He still manages to make it look easy, and I wonder if Bryan Ferry is not smiling that Bowie so quickly became Frank Sinatra here. David does come on like a cabaret performer, a nightclub singer, an actor, and that is merely what he's been saying all along, he says.

I have a feeling that he likes the way he looks when he first comes onstage; hair slicked back, sort of in a pompadour. (His hair was carefully coiffed that way for our interview as well.) But I think he looks sexiest when his hair gets tousled and falls in his face; he's one of those boys who is forever running his fingers through his hair to get it off his face. If it's possible to imagine David Bowie — fey, the poseur, the man with the artful toss of the head, the clever grin, the flashing eyes — caught off-guard, this is the way he looks when his hair is tousled. And even if that is an act that makes him appear more vulnerable, it works.

Bowie closeup is fabulously attractive. He's been in good health recently, and the skin is clear and translucent, like marble. He's shorter than you might think, but then — they all are. (With a few exceptions...) As part of the "new David Bowie" — or at least Bowie circa February, 1976, he seems more relaxed. But don't underestimate the illusion factor here as well; i.e., there are only three or four people "around" him now, yet he elicits from them the same kind of overprotective whispering that used to go on with twenty Main Man employees. Never doubt that this man knows exactly what he's doing. Watch him. There's a very determined gleam in his eye.

P.S. At the Dinah Shore Show/TV taping I saw him sing "Five Years" straight into the camera, a tight closeup in his face. That same song, same face that was in closeup five years ago on the BBC-TV Old Grey Whistle Test. It was riveting, knocked me out then and it did now. Perfect, he's finally gotten around to stealing from himself.