Bowie: A Biography - JFK247

energized in a way that Fashion Rocks was not, was
tantamount to a rejuvenation of spirit, and there,
onstage, as he took the lead on the band’s bestknown
song, “Wake Up” (Butler offering only a
burbling echo-drenched vocal), Bowie seemed to be
putting his vulnerability, his own impermanence and
the immortality of his music, legend and influence
into some kind of working order once again. He
looked like he’d written the thing himself.
“Something filled up my heart with nothin’,” he
sang. “Someone told me not to cry. But now that I’m
older, my heart’s colder, and I can see that it’s a lie.”
There, on that stage, he was a god, inspiring awe in
both the crowd and the musicians he’d joined. But he
was a man too, wary of overexertion, learning the
steps again, older than the lead singer and the
drummer put together. But brand-new once again.
It is, to date, the last transformative moment in his
nearly fifty-year career, and like every previous
Bowie incarnation, it keeps us watching for what’s
coming next and thinking differently about everything
that came before.