Ziggy played guitar.

There I was, walking down the street. My heart was racing and I tasted blood on my lips. I had a fleeting sensation of just having taken the life of someone I loved, someone wonderful, but I couldn't remember doing it, or even whom it might be. I ducked into a coffee shop for some hot caffeinated respite from the bitter cold outside. As the barista was making my latte, I popped my earphones in and tapped the album cover for The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars.  

I looked up at the cafe's TV screen where CP24's headlines for the day flashed by. And suddenly, the rest of the world faded into oblivion as I read the headline: scientists predicted that the earth was going to end in five years. I felt like I was in a vaccuum.

Then the world came rushing back like a cold tornado wind. I looked around at the room full of people. Fat, skinny, tall, short... so many people. I saw them gazing in the direction of the TV screen on the wall, slackjawed, tears streaming from their eyes. Some were frantically calling loved ones, asking them if they had heard the news, if they believed it was real. I didn't know what to think. My brain hurt a lot.

I dropped my coffee and backed out of the cafe into the street. Things were happening that didn't seem normal.  There was a bizarre brightness coming from the sky that wasn't there before, making me squint on what was only minutes ago a grey, overcast winter day. People were freaking out. Mobs were forming. I made my way to the subway and let the train carry me home, processing all the while.

I awoke dishevelled and disoriented on my livingroom floor. I must have blacked out there. A bruise on my head confirmed it. I was alone and glad to be. Not ready to contact loved ones just yet, I needed more time. I switched my iTunes on. And then... a message of hope!

Ziggy Stardust told me that our salvation wasn't too far away, and all we needed to do was embrace rock and roll again.  Our souls depended on it. It's all a colourful, wonderful, extreme, wicked blur after that. I got carried away by Ziggy's music. I found religion in the form of a Starman in the sky. I haven't even met him and he's kind of blown my mind. Swept up in the hazy cosmic jive, I found myself dancing and twirling and freaking out in a moonage daydream. I drank the proverbial kool-aid, oh my little droogies, and I went to heaven, but I didn't die. If only I knew what was coming...

Others began to join in, and the concert venues filled to the top. Love was everywhere, all around us. I couldn't get enough. Lady Stardust sang his song all night. It was really quite paradise. Then suddenly there was a change in the air... the concert venue so filled with joy and light became dark and hot. Ziggy turned and began to walk off stage. But it's not over... it can't be over! We're not saved yet! Tell me I'm not alone! Don't go! Where are you going? What's happening?! Come back here! Give me your hands, 'cause you're wonderful!

And then, there I was, walking down the street. My heart was racing...

*****

Myself in the Now, here. So... did it really happen like that? Um... does it matter?

This album changed something inside me. I'm feeling things deeply, friends. It's a roller coaster of emotions... highs of love and ecstasy, lows of fear and violence.  And as dark and scary as it gets sometimes, I want it to last forever. Except it can't. Because it ends desperately with a rock 'n' roll suicide, and the blood is on my hands. So all I can do is go back to the beginning and relive the whole experience. Live my life in a Ziggy Stardust forever-loop.

Which is what I've been doing pretty much non-stop since The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars first blasted into my ears. It's really hard to believe I've only spent such a short time with it, because the journey is so intense, so breathtaking, so orgasmic.

Now, this is probably too much information, but it's relevant TMI. It's relevant because while the album didn't come across as too overtly sexual upon my first listen, I subsequently viewed this:

(This video has apparently been taken down. Watch this instead, it's also pretty awesome, and contains clips from the video I had originally posted.)

And then I went to bed and proceeded to have a totally unexpected Ziggy Stardust sex dream. Of course I woke up before it was over. Wham bam thank you ma'am.

This is a far cry from the man who gave us Sell Me A Coat and Love You Till Tuesday.  Making the leap from 1967 David Bowie to 1972 Ziggy Stardust was perhaps an ill-informed choice on my part, but the truth of the matter is, I couldn't wait. Through sheer luck, I seem to have suddenly acquired a David Bowie record collection... and I don't even own a record player. Ziggy is among the albums that have come into my possession, and from the moment I held it in my hands, I became possessed by its magic. So while my initial intention was to get here gradually, all I have to say is, Ziggy made me do it. I have no regrets.

Basically, this album, so accomplished in its concept, so moving in its execution, has become my all-time favourite album by anyone, anywhere, at anytime. If I were to be suddenly transported to a desert island (given the recent temperatures, I can only hope...) and allowed to take one album with me, this would be it. Because seriously, it's pure perfection and begs to be played on repeat.

Selecting favourite tracks from this album is tough, because it's such a coherent whole that it's difficult to take them out of context. But if I had to, I'd go with:

• Five Years
• Soul Love
• Moonage Daydream
• Starman
• Ziggy Stardust
• Suffragette City
• Rock 'n' Roll Suicide

Finally, when I said this album has changed me, I mean it has really lit a fire under my God-given ass. I've dyed my hair with purple and red streaks and I've taken up the ukulele. So... be careful when you give this one a listen, darlings. You never know what may be unleashed.