not only is it the last show of the tour....
HELLOO DROOGIES You probably don't give a fuck about David Bowie. I don't blame you I guess. I have measured my hours in cigarettes and my years in Bowie. My whole life has been entangled with the thin white duke since 1972 when I stumbled into Pennebaker's documentary of the final Spiders From Mars show late night on ABCs In Concert and I was....converted. I attempted in vain to record the show on my mono cassette recorder while my parents hurled insults at the spectacle. Yet I listened to it obsessively. Years later Bowie released Blackstar. Then died of cancer. Coincidentally, I had developed cancer in my left kidney. OH, what joy that was! Listening obsessively to Blackstar that month before I went under the robot to have the afflicted kidney sucked out. Good times. Poignant? I suppose for me. Not necessarily for you. Anyway, the point is Bowie has been my...filament. You can blame everything on him. So, I write this as prelude to the latest DEAD EDITS release: “Ev...