Sunday, 9 November 2025

We Could Be...Bowie and His Heroes - Tom Hagler (2021)

 

Rating: Admirable

I find it hard to resist a good Bowie book and when We Could Be...was returned across the counter at my library I, predictably, took it home. Since Bowie died, now approaching ten years ago, there have been a multitude of Bowie books, all with their own angles in an attempt to get away from just a straight Bowie biography. This one collates an array of meetings that Bowie had with other significant people in the public sphere, in music, film, art, fashion and politics. It is arranged chronologically, starting with Absolute Beginner: 1947-1969 and ending with The Next Days: 2005-2016. For a hard-core Bowie fan like me the early years were the most interesting, for example I never knew that Bowie hung out with Brian Jones during the Rolling Stone's early years; that Bowie, as Davy Jones, was invited into Paul McCartney's home and they listened to an acetate of one of Bowie's songs; or that Ridley Scott directed the ad for 'Luv ice lollies' that featured Bowie in 1969. As the eras roll on the anecdotes become more familiar, although there are still many nuggets of unknown incidents to be found. The writing style is fairly informal, but good enough to carry the stories of Bowie's interesting meetings with other well known people. There's a smattering of photographs, most well known, among a few that are relatively unseen. Over all it is a handsome, well presented Bowie book.

Bowie and Visconti, circa 1979, getting their facts straight

Tony Visconti, Bowie's friend and significant producer throughout his career, is noted on the cover as being a 'consultant editor'. Apparently, as indicated in the introduction, Hagler managed to get an early draft to Visconti to read and he offered insights and corrections, saying that his input was based on what Bowie had told him directly. This does seem to give particular credence to the veracity of the stories, however, I was disappointed to note some oversights. I know it comes across as churlish to point out mistakes, but in a book like this it has the effect of the reader not being as trusting when it comes to some of the less well known encounters. Firstly, there's the account of the reasonably well known meeting in which Bowie mistook Doug Yule for Lou Reed when he attended a Velvet Underground gig in New York in 1971 (Reed had left the band by that stage). It's a humorous, and true story, however Hagler notes that it was supposedly John Cale who answered the stage door and let Bowie inside. John Cale had long left the band (in late 1968), with Doug Yule becoming his replacement. Cale was certainly not in a version of The Velvet Underground that didn't include Lou Reed. Strangely there is then no mention of Bowie meeting and hanging out with John Cale later in the book, in particular in New York, where he and Cale jammed together, something documented on some rather dodgy bootlegs. It's an odd oversight in the context of the thematic thrust of the book. Another error comes later, regarding Nagisa Oshima, who made the film Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence (1983); when shopping around for an actor to play a British POW he saw Bowie in an TV ad for Pepsi, also starring Tina Turner. Except unfortunately this ad didn't appear until 1987, when Bowie advertised Pepsi in a deal to help with the expenses of touring the Glass Spider Tour. I think the actual ad the director would have seen Bowie in was one he did in the early eighties for a brand of Japanese sake, which featured the amazing instrumental Crystal Japan (1980), but not Tina Turner. Finally, in the section covering the 1990s, Hagler notes that Bowie had written the song I'm Afraid of Americans (1995) with Trent Reznor, but the co-writer was Brian Eno. Reznor did a remix or two of the song, toured with Bowie and starred in the video, but there was no co-write. Now I feel really churlish! But, despite being a fine book, these oversights, as a hard core Bowie fan, mean that I question other stories that I've never encountered before, despite Visconti's involvement. Despite this the book is worth a read for Bowie fans overall, regardless of my nit-picking.

A Personal Epilogue

We Could Be... is all about Bowie encounters and what it was like for himself and the significant others he met throughout his life. As a fan I had my own encounter in 1987 in Sydney, where I attended four of the eight Glass Spider shows. I was hanging around the entertainment centre and walked past an area near the backstage. There was a cyclone fence running between the back of the centre and a multi-story car-park. A few people were hanging about and one told me that they knew that Bowie was going to arrive for a sound-check shortly. He did indeed, and the experience of meeting him was surreal. He stood about 30 centimetres away from me on the other side of the fence, wearing a black fedora hat and a suit. He signed a page from a book I'd managed to convince someone to rip out of a Bowie book they had with them (I had nothing with me). I can't remember what I said to him, nor what he said to me, but I remember that it evoked a feeling like you get from having a beer on an empty stomach. I also remember that he was friendly and polite, totally relaxed and his skin was so white that it was almost translucent. It was a thrill to meet him and still feels surreal today, like it happened in another realm, despite the physical evidence of the signed page hanging in a frame on my wall. A great experience - I was among those who met Bowie and I'll always treasure it. That day I also met Carlos Alomar, one of Bowie's great and important collaborators, having played guitar on countless Bowie classics. Now he was a dude, exuding lots of fun and enthusiasm as he jumped around in his black leather stage attire. A great day all round.


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