In his long career, David Bowie has been a troubadour, androgynous rock star, cocaine alien, dance club heartthrob, guy with prominently featured junk in Labyrinth, gay magician, and whatever the hell Heathen was. So it’s kind of surprising it took him until 2014 to pretend to be a french Robot.
Here’s what the Thin White Da Funk had to say at the Music Week Awards last night.
When I first knocked on the door of [Columbia Records chairman Rob Stringer's] office at Sony, New York, you can imagine my surprise when a member of Daft Punk opened it. In silence he brought me in and indicated that I should take a seat on the comfy armchair to the right of the chairman’s desk, around which he moved and took his place in the chairman’s chair.
He removed the shiny helmet. It was Rob.
‘This,’ he said ‘is how far I will go for my artists.’ I found out that during the course of that day Rob had not only guested as an executive third Daft Punk member at a lunchtime gig at a club in Manhattan, but had also led a Dylanology symposium at Barneys clothing store, sung falsetto on a new London Grammar track and choreographed a touching interpretive dance number to One Direction’s ‘They Don’t Know About Us’ for the cast of Glee.
Knowing him for the man he is, it came as no surprise that he had won tonight’s most prestigious award, The Strat.
If you become the object of his enthusiasm an artist will find a genuine long-term support that is sadly missing in the recording industry.
When he asked me if I minded if he took a few Saturdays off from his duties as percussionist on my new album this year in order to catch the Luton Town football club fixtures, how could I refuse? It’s the least I could offer to the man who with his own hands pulled my album to number one throughout the world.
Congrats for The Strat, Rob. You’re a star.
David Bowie 2014 (Via)