Glam rock. Eyeliner. Long hair. Long lashes. Skirts. Leather jackets and pants. Fake fur, real fur. Crowns. Guitars. Electric cords snaking across the stage.
Liberating. Electrifying.
All the glamour of heaven mixed with all the dramatics of hell. That was glam rock.
I first heard David Bowie’s “Space Oddity” (fittingly) while flying on an airplane. It was like time suspended for me. Everything just slowly rolled to a stop. I was floating in another dimension as the astronaut in the song (Major Tom) speaks to ground control of the heaven they’ve discovered. The loneliness they felt.
This was the start of my love affair with all things David Bowie. (The Labryinth? Forgive me, but it is a classic).
Flash forward to just last year, when Bohemian Rhapsody and Rocketman seemed to be released within succession of one another. Freddie Mercury, bisexual icon. Elton John, a legend.
I coded one of my projects to Freddie Mercury’s “Don’t Stop Me Now”. In the coding assignment, you needed to display some level of complexity. I had a bouncy ball going off the walls while the user could control a rocket as it flew over the tiny coded galaxy of colorful circles I’d set up. I’d sing that song while walking, belting out the vocals in all their power.
Elton John I’d only ever known as a living legend. A knight. A performer to the core. Big stage presence and an even bigger voice.
Glam Rock, ultimately, taught me how to be my most authentic self. To embrace every little oddity that makes you more you. And stage presence? Darling, these are the gods of stage presence embodied. You have only to follow their lead and dance the night away.