I’m at a local pub, with a friend, a good friend. We’re watching a tribute band, a Bowie tribute band – everything is a copy, of a copy, of a copy.
They are quite good, certainly very competent musicians, and also a good Bowie, even if the vocals do stray very slightly toward Lou Reed – perhaps that’s the day job.
‘We can be heroes, just for one day’ or until the set ends. ‘There was an old-fashioned band of married men (and a female bass player) looking up to me for encouragement’ – everything is a copy, of a copy, of a copy.
I keep tribute bands, and cover bands, in the same box as karaoke. The sort of thing I just don’t do, or appreciate. I may reassess that in light of this evening. I have a good time.