David Bowie was someone whose music didn’t reach me until I was an adult (using that term loosely…). My house was full of Mario Lanza, Glen Campbell, and Christian music growing up. If I listened to anything remotely rock and roll (I did go through a major hair band phase in 7th and 8th grade)….it was super (sometimes outright sneaky) low or with headphones. RIP Poison’s “Open Up And Say Ahh”…you never saw it coming… #devilmusic That being said, even from a young age, I always leaned more towards the ladies of pop. Cyndi Lauper was my idol and "She's So Unusual" was my first real album at 8 years old. My dad couldn’t even wait until my birthday to give it to me because my excitement became his. I wanted to be her. And for many Halloweens, I was. I still have that album. Skips and all.

But back to Bowie. Being an 80s kid, of course I liked his 80s stuff, but I wasn’t one of those young girls who fell in love with him in Labyrinth. I never saw Labyrinth. That was not something that would have been on any television in my house growing up. But since I didn’t even know it existed then…I never missed it. I actually still haven’t seen it… Dear Amazon Prime… #addtowatchlist No, it wasn’t until a friend invited me to do a few shows with his David Bowie tribute band a handful of years ago that my true appreciation for Bowie’s musical genius and fearless creative integrity really began. The man lived, and ultimately died, on his own terms. In his own time. Outside of time. Stardust to stardust.

The night David Bowie left us, I felt it. I didn’t know what, exactly, it was that I was feeling at the time…but it was, ultimately, the vacuum created by his exit. I couldn’t sleep. My solar plexus felt swirly and tight. When I did sleep, my dreams were lucid and strange. Everything seemed to be vibrating just a bit…more. When I woke up, it was all over social media. That night, I sat at my piano and a simple lullaby started coming through…melancholy, but with a hint of an exhale in it. The words tumbled and scribbled out. It was for him. From him, really. One final message for those who loved him…who would feel his leaving the most. I love when songwriting is a clear channel. It’s fluid and easy. You disappear and return. The story is completely new and yet somehow familiar. I imagine David knew that feeling quite well.

This past fall, I took that simple lullaby and decided to fully produce it on my own and release it, exclusively, on bandcamp as a free download in honor of #phillylovesbowieweek (the first Friday to Friday week in January). 2019 is the first year I will not be an active participant in Philly Loves Bowie week music festivities so this song is my small contribution to this year's event to help honor an artist and a man who was a shining example of true fearlessness and artistry. In a world that constantly tries to force you into a mold, he constantly chose to break it; and in doing so, gave us all permission to do the same.

“Something happened on the day he died - Spirit rose a metre, then stepped aside…”