Where are we now?

It is the 8th of January 2013, also known as my hero David Bowie's 66th birthday.

Last night, in homage, I set out my clothes for work - a black maternity pencil skirt, black maternity tights, and my favourite David Bowie t-shirt to wear under a more professional , office-dress-code-friendly long grey cardigan.

Because, Rebel Rebel. Obviously.

I woke this morning at 6am to my phone blurting Twitter updates at me. Not an unusual way to start the day by any stretch of the imagination, but this morning Twitter was going stark raving mad with joy because 10 years after his last album release, David Bowie released a new single: Where are we now?

On his motherfucking birthday. And NO ONE KNEW. Trust Our Lord Bowie to be able to keep a secret in 2013, the age where Twitter Knows Everything.

After waking my poor husband with a rampage of squeeful shouting that would be expected more from a teenage fangirl than a 29 year old woman grown up enough to be mortgaged, married and making a baby - I quickly linked to www.davidbowie.com (which was mysteriously down yesterday? Now I know why!!) and viewed the video, so fresh and new and hot that my Windows 8 phone haven't listed the single in the marketplace yet.

And I cried. It was beautiful. Haunting, strange, ethereal, tender and heartbreakingly weary - the simple pleasure of his voice is something that I will never tire of. My favourite Bowie era (though I love every stage of his 50 decades of evolution) is the 70s, but my fondness for his Berlin period (spanning albums Low, Heroes and The Lodger) sets the stage well for this dreamy release.

And it couldn't have come at a better time. I love music, I couldn't get through the day without it, but Popular Music, aka the music in the UK charts is something that I have despaired of for the past 4 years. The way shows like the X-Factor have shaped destroyed the industry, and the "musical" output of shows such as this have chewed away at my soul and grated on my raw exposed nerves and left me in a situation where I have been forced to wrap myself in a bubble of indie music, familiar classics and recommendations from friends with good taste. Because whilst good bands have surfaced, bands with talent and great music -  these rare gems are hard to pick out from the river of slime that the rest of the charts constitute and had I continued to be exposed to this slime, I would have cut off my ears in a Van Gogh-esque fit of madness. Or, you know, thrown my Skull Candies out of a window...

Aside from the Rage Against The Machine Christmas hit a few years ago, which I obviously supported, I couldn't tell you a single song that has been number one or even in the top 10 for the past 4 years. I'm sure I've heard some of them, unwittingly, because I don't live in a cave, but you can keep your wanky popstrels and their excruciating over-synthed "music", the bad covers, the bad samples, the bad bad bad bad bad.

A good example is Christmas. My brother had bought tickets to see Ollie Murs (what is that? Is it a thing?) and looked absolutely dumbfounded when I asked ignorantly who it was. But why would I know? I don't care. Until popular music improves, I'm keeping well away from it. (Incidentally, it turned out that Ollie Murs is from The X-Factor. Yack)

On the 11th March, when I will more than likely be being induced and bringing my son into the world (who incidentally is named Michael David, after my darling father and David Bowie - the two great men in my life aside from my husband), David Bowie's new album will be released.

I cannot wait. I cannot wait to see the V&A exhibit the second I can get down to London post-birth. I cannot wait for a tour to be announced (which surely it must) because I haven't seen him perform since Glasto, well over a decade ago and I have never seen one of his own tours live before.

The title of one of the songs from the new album, The Stars Are Out Tonight, I have a feeling will be the crowning glory for me.

So happy birthday, Our Lord Bowie, thank you for your bounty! It's about time you saved the music industry from itself. BRING IT ON! 2013 will be the year you show them how it's done!

Ziggy played guitarrrrrraaaaarrrrraaaarrrrrr.

Title: Where are we now by David Bowie