As it is Bowie month, I decided to share articles about David Bowie's ideas about writing. Several of those follow here.
https://stoney.sb.org/eno/oblique.html
Expectations could be substituted for rules. In fiction, setting up readers' expectations, pushing those, and then breaking them.
Food for thought.
"I went upstairs to show the person how to play the riff... and it was John McEnroe!" David Bowie on the art and process of songwriting
Your albums often reflect the place where they were written and recorded. For example, Low and Heroes have something of the austerity of Berlin.
Wherever I’m writing, that place tends to make itself very known, either in the atmosphere or sound. Heathen [2002] as an example, that was written up in the mountains of Woodstock. And you do have that sense of the magnificence of this really disquietingly tranquil place, but the sense of indifference about nature within it all.
I think the one thing that goes through Reality [2003] is the sense of New York. It feels very ‘street’. There’s a lot more about being a New Yorker, which indeed I am. The accent may not say that [laughs], but I am. I wrote the songs here, downtown where I live, and it does reflect that. I notice that there are more references to streets around here than I realised. Tony Visconti and I were counting them up the other day, and I think there are seven streets on the album [laughs].
When you’re writing songs, how important is it for you to return to a kind of beginner’s mind about it?
I understand that very well. And it is terribly important for me to do that. It’s absolutely essential that I get surprised and excited by what I’m doing, even if it’s just for me. I think process is quite important. To allow the accidental to take place is often very good. So I trick myself into things like that. Maybe I’ll write out five or six chords, then discipline myself to write something only with those five or six chords involved.
So that particular dogma will dictate how the song is going to come out, not me and my sense of emotional self. Of course, I’ll cheat as well. If I’ve got the basis of something really quite good coming out of those five or six chords, then I’ll allow myself to restructure it a bit, if I think, well, that could be so much better if it went to F-sharp [laughs], or something like that.
Do you still use the William Burroughs method of cutting up text in random patterns to write lyrics?
Absolutely. I’ll use them to provoke a new set of images, or a new way of looking at a subject. I find it incredibly useful as a writer’s tool. And I’m amazed these days at the amount of cut-up sites that are now on the internet. It’s quite phenomenal. There are at least 10, and two or three of them are excellent.
I’ve used them too. I’ve put a bunch of pieces of text into the thing, then hit the cut-up button, and it slices it up for me [laughs]. In ‘94, when I was really starting to get into the computer in a major way, I had a programme devised so that I could specifically do that. Most of the lyric content of the Outside [2003] album came out of that programme. But now they’re all over the place, especially on poet sites. There are a lot of poets who still work in that method, so I’m not alone.
This idea of juxtaposition and pasting appears fundamental to what you do as an artist.
I think that was my premise for writing and making music when I was a kid. When I’d gotten a little more sophisticated and had a more rounded idea of what I was as an artist – and it wasn’t immediate, by any means, but around the late 60s/early 70s – it really started to all come together for me as to what it is that I like doing and what satisfied me the most. And it was a collision of musical styles as much as anything else.
I found that I couldn’t easily adopt brand loyalty [laughs], or genre loyalty. I wasn’t an R&B artist, and I was this artist or that kind of artist, and I didn’t really see the point in trying to be that purist about it. What my true style was is that I loved the idea of putting Little Richard with Jacques Brel, and the Velvet Underground backing them – what would that sound like? [laughs]
That for me was really interesting. It really seemed, for me, what I was good at doing. What I enjoyed was being able to hybridise these different kinds of music.
Right. To go from a 50s rock-flavoured thing with an Edith Piaf nuance on it produced that. There was a sense of French chanson in there. It wasn’t obviously a 50s pastiche, even though it had that rhythm that said total 50s. But it actually ends up as being a French chanson. That was purposeful. I wanted that blend, to see if that would be interesting. And it was interesting. Nobody was doing that, at least not in the same way. The same approach was being adopted by a certain number of artists from that era.
It was all this sense of “Wow, you can do anything!” The 60s were so over, and this 70s thing was a harder, more cynical, ironic place, and the attitude was a whole different thing. It wasn’t love and peace and beads. This was something else, like “What a fucked up society. Let’s see what it sounds like!” [laughs]. The sense of pulling away from it all.
Tell us about some of your most famous songs. What about Heroes?
I’m allowed to talk about it now. I wasn’t at the time. I always said it was a couple of lovers by the Berlin Wall that prompted the idea. Actually, it was Tony Visconti and his girlfriend. Tony was married at the time. And I could never say who it was [laughs]. But I can now say that the lovers were Tony and a German girl that he’d met while we were in Berlin.
I did ask his permission if I could say that. I think possibly the marriage was in the last few months, and it was very touching because I could see that Tony was very much in love with this girl, and it was that relationship which sort of motivated the song.
How about the song Fame?
Fame itself, of course, doesn’t really afford you anything more than a good seat in a restaurant. That must be pretty well known by now. I’m just amazed how fame is being posited as the be-all and end-all, and how many of these young kids who are being foisted on the public have been talked into this idea that anything necessary to be famous is all right. It’s a sad state of affairs.
However arrogant and ambitious I think we were in my generation, I think the idea was that if you do something really good, you’ll become famous. The emphasis on fame itself is something new. It’s not the same thing at all. And it will leave many of them with this empty feeling.
Then again, I don’t know if it will, because I think a lot of them are genuinely quite satisfied. I know a couple of personalities over in England who are famous for being famous, basically. They sort of initially came out of the pop world, but they’re quite happy being photographed going everywhere and showing their kids off and this is a career to them… That, to me, is a big worry.
I think it’s done dreadful things to the music industry. There’s such a lot of rubbish, drivel out there.
The song has its roots in something by James Brown, right?
It was a guitar riff that Carlos Alomar had. He used to play in James Brown’s band and he’d come up with this riff for a song called Foot Stompin’. When we were in the studio with John Lennon, I asked Carlos: “What was that riff you had?” And it went from there.
Had you been having conversations with Lennon about fame before it was written?
Yes. Actually, much more to the point, we’d been talking about management, and it kind of came out of that. He was telling me: “You’re being shafted by your present manager” [laughs]. That was basically the line. And John was the guy who opened me up to the idea that all management is crap. That there’s no such thing as good management in rock’n’roll, and you should try to do it without it.
It was at John’s instigation that I really did without managers, and started getting people in to do specific jobs for me, rather than signing myself away to one guy forever and have him take a piece of everything that I earn. You don’t have to end up signing your life away to some fool who’s just there kind of grabbing hold of the coat-tails.
Rebel Rebel has one of the all-time classic riffs.
[Laughs] It’s a real air guitar thing, isn’t it? I can tell you a very funny story about that.
One night, I was in London in a hotel trying to get some sleep. It was quite late, like 11 or 12 at night, and I had some big-deal thing on the next day, a TV show or something, and I heard this riff being played really badly from upstairs. I thought. who the hell is doing this at this time of night? On an electric guitar, over and over [sings riff to Rebel Rebel in a very hesitant, stop-and-start way].
So I went upstairs to show the person how to play the thing [laughs]. So I bang on the door. The door opens, and I say: “Listen, if you’re going to play…” and it was John McEnroe! I kid you not [laughs]. It was McEnroe, who saw himself as some sort of rock guitar player at the time. That could only happen in a movie, couldn’t it? McEnroe trying to struggle his way through the Rebel Rebel riff.
This interview originally appeared in Classic Rock 157 (May 2011)
Writing Advice From David Bowie. Kinda.
12 metaphorical tracks from an unreleased vinyl album.
Brian Molko has said the first song he learned on guitar was Bowie’s ‘Life on Mars.’ It made me wonder: what was the first song Bowie learned to play?
Icon and legend that David Bowie became, he was once a kid who had to learn his first song. I discovered that, like most musicians, Bowie learned by playing the music of his favourite artists.
Comparisons between writing books and music may be obvious, but for some reason, people seem better able to relate to music. Look at the “tracks” of this “vinyl album” and think about how it compares to your writing.
Vinyl Album: On Writing
Side 1
1/. Musicians play other people’s music first. Writers emulate other writers while finding their voice.
2/. It takes a long time to learn an instrument, let alone compose your own music.
3/. Music (and writing) need to strike a chord with other human beings.
4/. Musicians spend years in their bedrooms honing their craft before ever sharing it with anyone.
5/. Musicians start their careers in local pubs and clubs, playing songs that will never make it onto their famed albums, sometimes playing to empty rooms.
6/. The ones who made it never stopped playing, never stopped writing, never stopped improving. (But they probably also got lucky at times).
Side 2
7/. The second album is notoriously difficult.
8/. You can’t top the charts every time.
9/. Your skill and craft will improve as you get older. Still, fewer people will listen because they move on to the hot new thing.
10/. This is when many sell out (to stay “relevant” and to keep making money).
11/. Musicians rarely retire.
Bonus Track
12/. The inner artist often decides to release a concept album.
Sound familiar, writers?
You know what you need to do.
No, I don’t mean start with a concept album.
The Songwriting Technique David Bowie Used To “Trick” Himself Into New Ideas (That I Will Be Stealing)
https://americansongwriter.com/the-songwriting-technique-david-bowie-used-to-trick-himself-into-new-ideas-that-i-will-be-stealing/
Melanie Davis - June 12, 2025
Over his decades-long career, David Bowie implemented many-a songwriting technique while writing his 26 studio albums. Coming up with 30 solid records would be difficult enough as it is. But Bowie took it one step further, practically reinventing himself each time, whether he was adopting his Ziggy Stardust personality or moving into funk or something more avant-garde.
In 2001, Bowie spoke to Classic Rock magazine about his different approaches to songwriting that helped him stay sharp and creative over the years. (And yes, I will be stealing these techniques, and you should, too.)
David Bowie Used Trickery As a Songwriting Technique
During his early 2000s interview with Classic Rock, David Bowie described how he would trick himself into getting back into a beginner’s mindset. Although it might seem paradoxical, sometimes, having narrower limitations helps foster the most creative ideas. So, Bowie would effectively “shrink” his know-how so that he had less chords and ideas to choose from.
“It’s absolutely essential that I get surprised and excited by what I’m doing, even if it’s just for me,” Bowie explained. “I think process is quite important. To allow the accidental to take place is often very good. So, I trick myself into things like that. Maybe I’ll write out five or six chords, then discipline myself to write something only with those five or six chords involved.”
“That particular dogma will dictate how the song is going to come out,” he continued. “Not me and my sense of emotional self. Of course, I’ll cheat as well. If I’ve got the basis of something really quite good coming out of those five or six chords, then I’ll allow myself to restructure it a bit if I think, ‘Well, that could be so much better if it went to F-sharp or something like that.’”
The Songwriter Said Location Played a Big Role, Too
The right setting can certainly make or break anyone’s songwriting process. Too much of the same thing, and the writing can grow stale. Too many external distractions, and a songwriter is lucky if they come up with anything worthwhile at all. For David Bowie, he allowed his geographical location to inform the music he was writing, even if it was subconsciously.
“Wherever I’m writing, that place tends to make itself very known, either in the atmosphere or sound. Heathen, as an example, that was written up in the mountains of Woodstock. And you do have that sense of the magnificence of this really disquietingly tranquil place. But the sense of indifference about nature within it all.”
t wasn’t just mountainous retreats that helped knock ideas loose in Bowie’s mind. He also gained immense inspiration from his usual stomping grounds, like New York City. “I think the one thing that goes through Reality is the sense of New York. It feels very ‘street.’ There’s a lot more about being a New Yorker, which indeed I am. The accent may not say that, but I am. I wrote the songs here, downtown, where I live, and it does reflect that. I notice that there are more references to streets around here than I realized. Tony Visconti and I were counting them up the other day, and I think there are seven streets on the album.”
Bowie added, “But to define the rules, then take it as far as you can go with that little rule, then break it, I find is really a way of breaking writer’s blocks as well.”
David Bowie on writing for characters and how he knew the end was nigh for Ziggy Stardust
Tom Taylor - Feb. 1 2022
Of all the skills that David Bowie possessed as an artist, the one area where he truly excelled beyond any of his peers, and probably future imitators too, was his daring approach to his work. Imagine, if you will, struggling to make any creative impact at all for roughly half a decade then finally finding an acclaimed outlet in Ziggy Stardust, only to kill off your grand creation and head back to the drawing board just as your garden was beginning to flower?
While fools who don’t care for ‘The Starman’ might call his chameleonic approach facile or insincere, I would argue that his kaleidoscopic rotation implies the very opposite. He loved art too dearly to ever be cajoled into a single lane by success or veneration—he was always determined to explore the far reaches of pop culture and see what he could dredge up.
For instance, even Ziggy Stardust himself is a paradigm of the vast swathe of art that Bowie concocted into his singular artistry. “He was half out of sci-fi rock and half out of Japanese theatre,” Bowie once explained. “The clothes were, at that time, simply outrageous and nobody had seen anything like them before.” And this dazzling attack on mundanity proved world-changing.
Despite that, Bowie still had his stiff-upper-lipped detractors, and when asked about whether there came a point that his music wasn’t taken seriously, he responded: “I think I moved out of Ziggy fast enough so as not to be caught by that one, because most rock characters that one can create only have a short lifespan. They are one shots, they are cartoony, and the Ziggy thing was worth about one or two albums before I couldn’t really write anything else around him or the world that was sort of put together for him.”
While many would’ve been tempted to cling to that hard work, nevertheless, Bowie scrapped the shocking hero of the 1970s at his peak. “I’m very happy with Ziggy. I think he was a very successful character, and I think I played him very well,” Bowie may have said retrospectively, however, despite the growing success and one of the greatest tours in history, Bowie announces to the crowd at the Hammersmith Odeon: “Of all the shows on this tour, this particular show will remain with us the longest… Because not only is it the last show of the tour, but it’s the last show that we’ll ever do. Thank you.”
This move is key to understanding the way that Bowie approached his work. “I was never unaware of my strength as an interpretive performer,” he once opined, “but writing a song for me, it never rang true. I had no problem writing something for, or working with Lou Reed, or writing for Mott the Hoople. I can get into their mood and what they want to do, but I find it extremely hard to write for me.”
Adding: “So, I found it quite easy to write for the artists that I would create. I did find it much easier having created this Ziggy to then write for him. Even though it’s me doing it! I was able to distance myself from the whole thing, but I can become very complicated, fucking fabric with time there. It did bring a sort of sack full of its own inherent problems.” And those problems would later come to the fore when The Thin White Duke plagued the man beneath the facade with a wild drug problem and fascination with fascism. It was, as John Updike once wrote, a case of a “mask that eats into the face.”
Thus, parting from his magnificent creations was never easy, but Bowie always moved on so quickly that it was never with regret either. “I think the only time I ever get sort of kind of nostalgic about any of that stuff at all is if I see the odd video or I see a bit of the Ziggy Stardust concerts or whatever,” he once said. “But no, I don’t think I’m cold about them but I think it’s work done. I think you have to or you get into a danger of getting into the rut and maybe try to perpetuate something that has gone before.” Whereas, Bowie continually perpetuated the sort of thing that nobody had ever seen.
https://dariusjoneswriter.com/2022/04/01/the-craft-toes-in-the-sand-or-some-great-writing-advice-from-david-bowie/
The Craft: ‘Toes in the Sand’ or Some Great Writing Advice from David Bowie
You know, there are a lot worse places you could go for some writing advice than the late, great David Bowie. As someone who’s always looking to improve their writing, I’m often searching the Internet, Podcasts, Twitter for advice to creatives, to musicians, to writers to see if there is anything I can learn and then apply to my own craft. Sometimes, it’s just a quote, a line. Sometimes, it’s a whole hour-long Podcast or some long-form article. Some of the advice sticks and some doesn’t.
But about a year ago, I found these two great quotes on writing from David Bowie and I can’t get them out of my head. Just can’t. I finally tracked them down and they’re so good, so on-point, that I wanted to share them with all of you. Anyone who writes, or does anything creative, should get a lot out of them.
Ready? Here we go.
- Don’t Fulfill Others’ Expectations
“I think it’s terribly dangerous for an artist to fulfill other people’s expectations. I think they generally produce their worst work when they do that.”
Ain’t that the truth. I have been asked and heard the question, “Who do you write for?” It’s usual meant as something like: “Who do you think your audience is?”
Well, I have an answer for that second question and I’m ready to answer that for any interviewer, friend, fellow writer, or agent who might ask. [You can see some hints about this on my “About” page.] But as for that first question, for me, there can only be one answer: “Me.”
I write for me, not for anybody else. Not for a friend. Not for my significant other. Not for some corporation. Not for some editor. And in the end, when the story is done…Yes, even when this life is done–the only thing that will matter is if I liked the story. Not anybody else. Me.
And you know what? When I write stories for myself—and myself alone—they come out better, truer, more emotionally impactful than they ever could be if I wrote something I thought might please someone else.
2. If You’re Too Comfortable, You’re Not Working in the Right Area
“If you feel safe in the area that you’re working in, you’re not working in the right area. Always go a little further into the water than you feel you’re capable of being in. Go a little bit out of your depth. And when you don’t feel that your feet are quite touching the bottom, you’re just about in the right place to do something exciting.”
I think this is great. I love the image at the end. Creatively, I think Bowie’s right on.
You don’t want to be so far out there in the rip tide of the deep ocean that you have no idea what you’re doing. You don’t want monstrously complicated plots, complex POV changes, stylistic pyrotechnics, and all this stuff overwhelming you as you write (or create).
At the same time, you don’t want to be wading too close to shore. Where everything is easy, facile, and you just KNOW you can conquer it. Where you could just phone it in.
You want to be somewhere in between. Between the open ocean and the shore. Somewhere where you are feeling stressed, but not overwhelmed. Somewhere you will feel challenged and be able to go for it. Where you toes are just touching the sand, where you can get back to shore if you want, or go deeper out, if you feel comfortable. Creatively, that’s exactly where I want to be.
Of course, you should realize that your depth, your ability to go further out, can expand with time and experience. And when you feel it is, you should feel free to do so. And do so again, and again, and so on, as you sense your abilities expanding.
It’s just simply a great metaphor and great way to think about creativity. Now, when I am deciding about taking on new writing projects, I think: “Will this help expand me as a writer? Is it challenging? But not overwhelming? Am I ready to write this particular piece?” If the answer to those questions is “Yes,” it’s time to get to work!
Apparently, these quotes are from the David Bowie documentary, “David Bowie: The Last Five Years” from 2017. I’m not sure about that, but you can see a clip with the quotes here. It’s definitely worth literally one minute of your time:
Writing Update
I finished and polished a new story this month called, “The 17th Street Anomaly.” I’m really pleased with how this little gem of a Cosmic Horror short came out! It’s saying something I wanted to say/share for some time.
It’s also very dialogue forward—a trend I’ve noticed lately in my work. And one which I’m very fine with!
Also, spent a lot of time editing the longer piece “TBOS” that I have mentioned before. I’m trying to figure what to do with this and how to efficiently edit it, so I can move onto the next thing.
Reading, Watching, Playing
Here’s a little breakdown of what I’ve been consuming media-wise:
Ancient Sorceries and Other Weird Stories by Algernon Blackwood. I can’t recommend these stories enough. Blackwood is someone I had never heard about until recently and now he’s one of my favorite authors. These are like mashups of Edgar Allen Poe and Thoreau. Fascinating.
Shakespeare’s Sonnets. Figured I should read these, being poetical and all now. And you know what? Some of them are very “meh” and others are OUTSTANDINGLY great. Just a reminder to self that even the very best poets are very uneven in their output. So, don’t criticize yourself too much, just create. Let it flow and shut down that inner critic. After all, even Shakespeare had big misses.
Also, Shakespeare’s queerness really comes through in these. (His queerness/being gay was not something I was taught in school, but I for one, am definitely convinced of it). The poems either have no mention of a woman, are vague about the poet’s “mistress'” real identity, or mention (or hint at) another male as the object of the poet’s affections. I had no idea that the greatest love poems (arguably) in English are homoerotic. A fascinating lens to read these through!
Books of Blood by Clive Barker. This is more conventional Horror than I usually read. And more violent! (Something I sort of abhor in Horror. Strange, I know!). Nevertheless, he’s clearly a top talent, but they strike me as somewhat dated and very 80s. Which itself just goes to show how Horror is a vibrant, healthy art form that is constantly evolving.
The Andy Warhol Diaries on NetFlix. So sad. Don’t watch this if you want to be in a good mood! This is a dramatic tracing of Andy Warhol’s Diary covering the last decade or so of his life. It struck me as a sad, elegiac sort of piece. Andy comes across as a sincere man, but one who didn’t know how to love others, and saddest of all, didn’t know how to love himself. It also left me wanting to know more about his early life and influences, not just his final years.
PS: Speaking of Warhol, I wrote a fun little blog post on “Warhol, Coca-Cola and the Apotheosis of American Art” which asks that immortal question: “What is the ultimate work of American art?”
See you next time! Remember: Toes in the sand!
Darius
If you’re not familiar with Bowie–shame on you! Just kidding…. Check out this old video. This is how you do it. No gimmicks, no special effects, but very effective!
And for a little fun, here’s Flight of the Conchord‘s parody of everything Bowie: “Bowie’s in Space.”
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- Days ago: MOM = 3855 days ago & DAD = 510 days ago
- New note - On 1807.06, I ceased daily transmission of my Hey Mom feature after three years of daily conversations. I post Hey Mom blog entries on special occasions. I post the days since ("Days Ago") count on my blog each day, and now I have a second count for Days since my Dad died on August 28, 2024. I am now in the same time zone as Google! So, when I post at 10:10 a.m. PDT to coincide with the time of Mom's death, I am now actually posting late, so it's really 1:10 p.m. EDT. But I will continue to use the time stamp of 10:10 a.m. to remember the time of her death and sometimes 13:40 EDT for the time of Dad's death. The blog entry numbering in the title has changed to reflect total Sense of Doubt posts since I began the blog on 0705.04, which include Hey Mom posts, Daily Bowie posts, and Sense of Doubt posts. Hey Mom posts will still be numbered sequentially. New Hey Mom posts will use the same format as all the other Hey Mom posts; all other posts will feature this format seen here.
