The Time David Bowie Said He Was A Fan Of My Work (Really)

Yeah, I have a David Bowie Story too.

I was saving this one, not sure for what. If you’ve known me for even 10 minutes, though, you’ve possibly heard it, since it’s my equivalent of an ultimate rock n roll pick up line. Back in the day when it was a thing (i.e. Oct. 1999), Sonicnet (which MTV ended up buying, and then liquidating) flew me to NY to interview Prince and Bowie… in the same weekend. I know, right?

Needless to say I was losing my goddamn mind about talking to Bowie, keeping in mind the one warning every grizzled music biz veteran had told me since day one: “Never meet your heroes, they’ll only disappoint you.” But it was David Fucking Bowie, so I spent 3 days writing up an endless list of questions for what was slated to be a 15–20 minute conference room interview about his then-new album, “hours…”

A Virgin Records publicist ushered me into the sad little room with a view of nothing and I waited, trying not to swallow my tongue, endlessly going over my lifetime of burning questions I’d boiled down to a list of 10. And then Bowie comes walking in looking… just so fucking Bowie. Perfect crisp Oxford with no tie and cargo pants with worn gym shoes, hair spiky, but not trying too hard, mismatched eyes clear and kind of sparkly and a big grin on his face.

“Mind if I smoke?” he asked. “Um, you’re David Fucking Bowie, you do whatever you want,” I thought to myself. “Oh, of course, no worries.” So, because he’s a gentleman, he went to open a window so the smoke wouldn’t bother me. And I started in… and here’s what sucks. That story is lost to the world. Just doesn’t exist on the Internet or in any archive.

But one moment stayed with me forever. Bowie had gotten really into the Internet just a few years before, launching BowieNet and, in 1997, proving to be the Starman he always was and floating Bowie Bonds. So I knew he loved all things digital.

“You know, Gil, I just want to tell you I’m a big fan of your work.” Wait, what? Did he really just say that? Just blowing celeb smoke up my clearly rattled ass, right, because clearly I was psyched about “Hours…” in a way not a ton of young journalists were at the time. It had to be that.

Then he ticked off a list of half a dozen stories I’d written that month, commenting on them and asking ME questions about working for Addicted to Noise/SonicNet.

It was hard to recover after that, but we had a pleasant chat, he was an incredibly warm, thoughtful, calming presence and an unbelievable gentleman. The egomaniac part of me held onto that sentence for the rest of the day (and clearly, my life). “Fan of your work.” I mean, FUUUUUUCk off! It was much later that I realized that moment wasn’t about me at all. It was about what a seeker and visionary Bowie was, always.

He didn’t say that to prove to me that he got how this whole Internet thing worked. He said it because he was forever curious, forever searching for that new spark of life that could cosmically connect us. But, c’mon, David Fucking Bowie had read a few of my stories. That doesn’t happen. Not before or since.

Too soon it was over and as we shook hands the 14-year-old part of me — the one who sat on the floor of his bedroom in Cincinnati endlessly listening to my “Aladdin Sane” and “Ziggy Stardust” LPs — was dying to say something profound. Or at least get a snapshot.

Instead I just smiled and thanked him. And as I started to walk away he put his hand on one of my shoulders. “Thank you, Gil,” he said smiling. “I hope you keep doing what you’re doing.”

(Editor’s note: I’ve added this amazing link found by Nicholas Butterworth of the original interview!)