As you may have noticed when all the stars in the sky blacked out, David Bowie just died. And in doing so, triggered the usual cycle of attention that comes with such catastrophic events. More so that the usual, in fact. When the news broke, sometime after midnight on January 11, within the hour the currents of social media transformed from the usual late night doldrums into the single most unified stream of shared emotion I have ever seen. Then, of course, the obituaries started trickling in, and still are. The ochre mullets are out in full force on Paris runways already and the tributes will keep coming for the next few years, I expect. So you may, if you are still willing to go on living on this planet, enjoy an unprecedented wealth of all-Bowie-all-the-time cultural saturation. There’s no missing the irony that it’ll be more attention, adulation and sweet, sweet record sales than the entire past 50-some years put together. You’ll see and hear Ziggy Stardust a lot, but not many people will say that 1993 was their favorite year. It wasn’t exactly mine either, but there’s no better time to truly delve. We have no choice but to start viewing Bowie’s legacy as a finished work now, and we can’t overlook the less famous chapters. I think you will see that Black Tie White Noise was an edgy and stylish moment.