Tomorrow belongs to those who can hear it coming. Lessons in creativity from David Bowie.

This post was originally a presentation given on the topic of ‘Tradition’ for the Singapore chapter of Creative Mornings.

Born David Robert Jones in Brixton, London 1947, to Margaret Mary “Peggy", a waitress and Haywood Stenton “John” Jones, a charity worker.

Described as an above average recorder player who achieved one O-level and was once described as an ‘adequate’ choir singer.

By any measure, David Robert Jones (David Bowie to you and me), was a seemingly average middle class kid with not a whole lot going for him (besides clearly having an awesome hair stylist and tailor).

So how did this average kid, from an average family with above average ability on the recorder go on to be one of the most prolific creative individuals of this century (and the last), recording 27 studio albums, seeing 11 of them reach the top of the charts selling over 140 million copies and picking up 6 Grammy’s and 4 Ivor Novello awards — all this while receiving a CBE (Commander of the British Empire) and a knighthood (both declined).

Befitting his other-worldly personas of Ziggy Stardust and Aladdin Sane, Bowie also has a spider (the Heteropoda davidbowie) and an asteroid(342843 Davidbowie) named in his honour.

Bowie did not have the typical driving forces usually found behind prolific creativity, he didn’t have the overambitious, overbearing parent forced upon Michael Jackson and his brothers, nor did he have the emotional backdrop of loss and struggle that motivated John Lennon or Johnny Cash.

He didn’t even have any recognisable talent, as revealed recently through long lost BBC interviews and tapes:

An unearthed rejection letter from the BBC after he auditioned with The Lower Third in 1965 in Finding Fame describes Bowie as having “quite a different sound” but with “no personality”, and “not particularly exciting” and certain to “not improve with practice”.

However, what David Bowie did possess was a distinct set of personal characteristics, habits and ways of working that helped define his sound, shape his creativity and create an enduring legacy across music, film, business and art.

“I re-invented my image so many times that I’m in denial that I was originally an overweight Korean woman.”

Bowie’s changes through the years were not just aesthetic, changes in his physical appearance helped shape his creative output, changes in his appearance helped him fit better in the circles of people he was beginning to work with, collaborate with and socialise with.

When he moved to Berlin and produced some of his more seminal works he would not have been able to make that trip as his earlier personas of Ziggy or Aladdin Sane, the stark, brutalism of Cold War era Berlin demanded the edgier Though less flamboyant personas of the Young American or the Thin White Duke. Existing as these characters allowed him to disappear into his chosen landscape, immerse himself in the ‘scene’ and gave him the (relative) anonymity he needed to focus on his work.

Embracing new skills, exploring new environments, developing new personas, all this exposes us to different ways of thinking, puts us in alternative states of mind and forces us to explore new ideas, greater understanding and empathy — key drivers for creativity and innovation.

“I feel confident imposing change on myself. It’s a lot more fun progressing than looking back. That’s why I need to throw curve balls.”

Before finding fame David Bowie joined his first band at 15 and personally wrote letters to promoters to get a gig, he saw his first official single was a disaster ‘Liza Jane’, credited to Davie Jones with the King Bees) — hundreds of copies of which ended up in storage in his bandmate’s mother’s garage.

His first solo single, ‘The Laughing Gnome’ released in April 1967, didn’t chart and is considered his worst song by a large majority of his fans. His debut album experienced a similar fate. It would be his last release for two years.

It wasn’t until Ziggy Stardust in 1972, almost 10 years after his first release, that he found the global fame for which is is remembered.

Bowie wasn’t one to stand still, and the speed at which he moved, musically and creatively, required a dogged persistence not often seen today.

Bowie’s output moved much faster than his audience’s tastes. As people grew to love Ziggy Stardust he abruptly retired the character and moved rapidly into his ‘Plastic Soul/Thin White Duke’ phase.

This need to move, grow and create forced him to develop a level of persistence that saw him fail as much as he succeeded, but without this constant evolution we never would have met Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane, the Goblin King and so many more inspiring and influential characters.

The ups and downs of his career can of course be attributed to his dogged persistence during the slumps but a large component of it was Bowie’s constant reinvention and need to push himself towards increasingly risky career decisions.

“I couldn’t have written things like ‘Low’ and ‘Heroes,’ those particular albums, if it hadn’t have been for Berlin and the kind of atmosphere I felt there.”

At the commercial peak of his career, just after the release of Station to Station in 1976, Bowie moved to Switzerland and then Berlin where he became heavily involved in the local art and music scene — in particular avant garde German bands such as Kraftwerk, Tangerine Dream and Neu.

During this ‘Berlin period’ Bowie went on to produce three albums, Low, Heroes and Lodger, what Rolling Stone called “…some of the most innovative music in the artist’s influential canon…”

Bowie did this throughout his career but his time in Berlin was probably the most risky, the most dangerous move, removing himself from all that was familiar and plunging himself into an new, unfamiliar environment.

“I believe that I often bring out the best in somebody’s talents.”

David Bowie was predominantly a solo artist but his work output could be considered anything but solo.

During his 54 year career Bowie collaborated with 111 individual artists and musicians, some like Iggy Pop, Mick Ronson and Tony Visconti helped define significant periods of his career, others such as John Lennon, Trent Reznor and Arcade Fire were fleeting but significant.

Then there were those that were considered throwaway cameo’s— Bing Crosby and Jim Henson —but produced some of his most memorable (and eclectic) work.

It wasn’t just Bowie’s artistic collaborations that helped impact his work, he frequently changed producers, studios, even record labels all in an effort to keep his ideas moving forward.

He recognised the vital need to change working relationships, collaborate with different individuals, with alternative skillsets, working in different physical environments, even frequent changes in record labels helped refocus his creative outlook and helped connect him with more and more diverse artists.

“All my big mistakes are when I try to second-guess or please an audience. My work is always stronger when I get very selfish about it.”

Bowie went from folk to rock to almost defining glam rock to soul to electronica to jazz.

His output took him from the blue eyed soul of Young Americans to the electronic influence of the Berlin trilogy and the pop of Let’s Dance, all within a decade.

His final studio album, Blackstar, was probably his most eclectic — incorporating art rock, jazz, and experimental rock, as well as elements from industrial rock, folk-pop and hip hop.

“What are Phil Collins fans doing at my gigs?”

At a time when he had reached one of his commercial peaks, selling 6 million copies of the album Lets Dance he began to realise he was attracting what he called a ‘Phil Collins crowd’ and just needed to take a step back as he felt he was beginning to become something he wasn’t.

At this point he began experimenting with guitarist Reeves Gabrels and formed the band Tin Machine — largely a critical failure (though they did go on to sell 2 million albums) but Bowie would later credit this decision as instrumental in revitalising his career in the 1990s.

Bowie recognised when he was falling short (usually of himself, not his audience) and he knew when to stop, reflect and make a change, however risky that change may be.

Even when he was far from the common definition of failure (for example during the Let’s Dance era), he knew he needed to change. His audience might have been buying what he was selling but he didn’t believe in it.

“I don’t know where I’m going from here, but I promise it won’t be boring.”

Even as he approached death he was at his most prolific, a month before his death he was working on a Broadway show, he recorded his final album Blackstar and released it two days before his death on the 10 January 2016 — he was even recording tracks for a follow up to Blackstar in his final days.

So it just goes to show that with just the right amount of persistence, collaboration, humility, honesty and grace David Robert Jones, the average suburban teenager became David Bowie, the multi-million selling artist.