Dey Street Books

Like so many vital figures in British pop history, from Pete Townshend to Paul Weller, Bowie came from a blurry region of British society that encompasses the educated working class, the socially precarious petite bourgeoisie and what could be called the uncomfortably-off middle class, i.e. professional or office workers whose income didn’t quite match their aspirations.

He took sax lessons from local hero Ronnie Ross. Years later, he repaid Ross by bringing him in to play the sax solo in Lou Reed’s “Walk on the Wild Side.”

The other kid turned out to be Marc Bolan, the future superstar of T. Rex, then still known as Marc Feld, but who announced himself as King Mod. Bolan looked him over and said, “Your shoes are crap.” It was the dawn of a lifelong rivalry

moonage daydream believer

Bowie’s cannabis mentor was John Paul Jones, later the bassist of Led Zeppelin. (Jimmy Page played on Bowie’s early records as well

Marc Bolan, now riding high on the charts, invited him to be the opening act on a British tour. The bad news: Bolan hired him as a mime

The Mask for the T. Rex fans, dramatizing a Tibetan Buddhist boy’s persecution at the hands of the Chinese (years before Tibet became something rockers were supposed to know or care about

Then one night Bowie got stoned, went to see 2001: A Space Odyssey, and got inspired to write a ballad about an astronaut named Major Tom who gets very lost in inner space, drifting over the edge of reality and beyond the infinite

Major Tom is the greatest role Bowie ever played, his most beloved creation. It’s a story he kept telling his whole career, from “TVC15” to “Ashes to Ashes” to “Hallo Spaceboy” to “Blackstar

Apart from the sonic similarities, the Bee Gees’ hit is the rare pop song to use iambic pentameter, like “Space Oddity,” and of course it features a Mr. Jones who won’t get a chance to tell his wife he loves her very much