I'd rather forgotten about David Bowie. Not literally, of course - he's one of those 20th century icons you somehow encounter at least once a week - but musically I'd figured he was well past it and had nothing new to offer. Call me age-ist if you like but I didn't really see what a 50-year-old rock star could add to a radical new genre like drum'n'bass. My promotional copy of Earthling was listened to about twice before gradually working its way to the bottom of the CD pile. I liked it but not enough. Or so I thought, at least. Since seeing him blow the minds of 1,400 punters (mine included) in a stuffed Olympia last week, however, it hasn't left my stereo once. Bowie was awesome. Truly out of this world. And I've become a fan all over again. It opened rather confusingly, with 'Changes' blasting through the sound system but not a Thin White Duke in sight. And then suddenly through the smoke he appeared, casually dressed in an open-necked shirt, grinning like a Cheshire cat and strumming the opening chords of 'Quicksand'. Behind him, multiple images were beamed onto the wall, lighting up a stage set that featured two massive inflatable eyeballs and three egg-shaped balloons (later in the set, faces were projected onto the balloons providing a truly eerie effect). That was the sound and vision taken care of then. Quick blast from the past sorted, he moved straight into a full-on drum'n'bass version of 'The Man Who Sold The World'. It's almost unrecognisable - a Bowie hybrid, an old song shot full of new electronic life. If Kurt Cobain stole it from him, then Bowie has dressed it up in disguise and pinched it back.
A hilarious and self-deprecating story about a non-meeting with Lou Reed in New York in the 1970s precedes an electrified version of 'I'm Waiting For The Man'. 'Jean Genie' and 'Queen Bitch' followed and, by this stage, there was sweat running down the walls.
Everybody now settled comfortably in, the Earthling section kicked off with the superb 'I'm Afraid Of Americans' and 'Battle For Britain (The Letter)'. If he used to be in Tin Machine, he's now a Din Machine. Live, the songs burned with such manic energy that at times I thought Reeves Gabrel's guitar was going to burst into flames. Bowie, however, remained as cool as a block of ice throughout, grinning wildly and obliviously enjoying himself. If I look a tenth as good as that man when I'm 50, I'll be a happy man. If there is such a thing as a candle of eternal youth then it's burning behind his eyes. They just kept on coming. A kicking version of 'Under Pressure', a superb cover of Laurie Anderson's 'O Superman', a quite unbelievable 'Seven Years In Tibet', 'Fame' and 'Stay' briefly showcased his black soul period but tonight was much more about the newly rejuvenated David Bowie than the Bowie of old. For me the highest point came with the latest material - particularly 'Telling Lies' and 'Dead Man Walking'. For the encore, he performed sax on 'V-2 Schneider' and finally left us with a wildly energetic 'All The Young Dudes'.
All in all, he performed for nearly two and a half hours. Not bad for a man of his age. I just wonder what he'll be doing at 60.