Omikron: The Nomad Soul (& BowieBanc & BowieNet)

sketch by boz

Omikron: The Nomad Soul (play-through).*
Boz’s Speech (Bowie, from Omikron).
Awakened 2.
“Demon Fight Music.”

He practiced statuesque positions and gave the impression of being a superhuman character by speaking very little and never eating in public.

Edward Burman, on Rashid ad-din Sinan.

Back in the Crusades, Sinan knew the game. As did Greta Garbo, who played it for high stakes. So did David Bowie in 1972. The point of the game, regardless the board on which it was played, was for the idol to escape from life, with its shrieky children, gas bills and installment plans. There should be a pane of thick, darkened glass between idol and audience. To be accessible was to lose. The man who sits in a cafe all day, mumbling as he reads the papers: he’s accessible. A taxi driver is accessible. A star shouldn’t even be seen eating. So Bowie, once a shy hippie hanging around Beckenham folk clubs, became Ziggy Stardust. He moved on, through various avatars of fame, each unknowable in its own way.

He’d chafe under his reputation sometimes, rubbish it, say that he was just an ordinary guy. Make a big deal of walking to a corner store and buying bread. And at the turn of the century, Bowie made himself more ordinary than ever before, as if he was following a weight-loss regimen for the mystique.

On his website he posted journal entries (once musing how, in another life, he could be walking his grandchildren around Bromley by now), and offered low-resolution files of his paintings. He took part in chat rooms, allegedly under the handle “sailor.” He submitted to Internet Q&A sessions with fans. Here are some questions from one from September 1998: Do you shop at Wal-Mart? Is it possible for you to market some of your better paintings in poster versions for like much cheeper (sic)? SqueakieTampaxTwin: Bowie when you were filming Exhuming Mr. Rice in Vancouver, did you ever stop by Subeez Cafe??


It was as if, while Mark Zuckerberg was still in high school, Bowie was bracing for the 21st Century, the demand for everyone to “share” accessible versions of themselves. The self as a business card, to be distributed to anyone who asked for it. He also saw opportunity: on 1 September 1998, he launched BowieNet.

Recall what the typical rock star’s webpage looked like in 1998, if it wasn’t just an empty cupboard of a site thrown up to claim “” during the internet boom. Maybe a tinny-sounding track would blare via RealPlayer when you loaded the page, which might crash your computer. Maybe there was a link to a page of pixelated concert photos. The text seemed plagiarized from fan sites. It was updated once an equinox.

Bowie’s site was fresh, fluid, offered legitimate exclusives: downloadable material, in particular Earthling tour recordings; his journals; his recommendations for books and films. He seemed intent on hosting an actual community. In 1999, he held a fan songwriting contest (see the upcoming “What’s Really Happening?”); he had fans pick their favorite mixes for Bowie At the Beeb and choose the cover of his All Saints compilation. “I do think it’s fair to say that music sites like Pitchfork exist—or at least the cool music blog model exists—because of BowieNet,” Wired editor Nancy Miller told Marc Spitz. “The idea of a singular, serious, legit indie music site with great influence, where you can get music news, videos, downloads of genuinely cool music?…Bowie was coming up with ideas to save the music industry [in 1998].

And he actually seemed to make a little money, rather a novelty for websites. Unlike the New York Times or Sports Illustrated or countless newspapers now shuttered or decimated, Bowie charged his readers from the start: $20 a month ($6 for a no-frills subscription). After four months of operation, BowieNet was being valued at $500 million. (Bowie was more blunt about how much he really was earning: “I can’t even buy a packet of cigarettes on the proceeds from this fucking thing…There is no money in what we do. It’s like being in the silent movies.“)


Everybody has a voice

Greeting on BowieNet, late 1990s.

I think the potential of what the Internet is going to do to society—both good and bad—is unimaginable. I think we’re actually on the cusp of something exhilarating and terrifying.

Bowie, Newsnight interview, December 1999.

In one of his BowieNet chats, Bowie was reminded by a fan about “Saviour Machine,” his mainframe-turned-killer-god song from 1970. “This machine did such a good job that, to create something for it to do, it had to make things bad again,” he recalled to Time Out. “I think, without knowing it, the Internet was something I was always desperate to get involved with.”

He began to veer between evangelism for the Internet and a cold-eyed realization that it would eviscerate the pop music industry (he also took the Y2K scare seriously).** “Once everyone can sample what they want at home on a cheap computer, the medium suddenly becomes the message,” he said in 2000. “And the message seems to be ‘This is lifestyle music, not attitude music.’ I think we will probably buy our music in the same way as we buy our clothes now; it’s no longer the replacement to church.”

Was this over-egging it? The young Mod Bowie had considered his music to be on a par with his clothes, and he and Marc Bolan had been the ones who rubbished the idea of rock music as church, which was something for the redbrick academics and tiresome hippie older brothers. Glam itself had been fabulous lifestyle music. The Internet could be a sequel, even more transformative.

Yet in the boom years of the century’s end, Bowie also recognized how much of a hustle one’s professional life would have to become. Constantly refreshing your site, constantly tending to your users, watching hit rates tick upward and downward. Users “are looking for things that represent their own interests, similar minds,” he told Uncut in 1999. “And so I became the first autonomous individual!”


By early 2000, the Financial Times noticed that Bowie was branching into realms “unrelated to [what you] might call his core competencies.”

He had started the David Bowie Radio Network for Rolling Stone‘s website. And to run BowieNet, he had co-formed Ultrastar, an internet service provider that ran the websites of the Baltimore Orioles and the New York Yankees (“we create little generic ISPs for different companies and universities and colleges,” he said. “It’s actually quite a major company now.“)

One of his business partners, Robert Goodale, not-quite-jokingly said that a Bowie Trading Desk could be in the future. Things didn’t go that far, but there was BowieBanc.


When suggested the cobranding arrangement, Bowie immediately seized the marketing potential. “People don’t wake up in the morning and say, ‘Gosh, I’m really turned on by my bank,’” says Goodale, but he and Bowie didn’t see why something that is useful, like online banking, couldn’t also be sexy and fun.

J. Alex Tarquinio, “Banking on Bowie’s Brand,” Forbes, 4 March 2000.

When I was a kid, music was the fascinating alternative future. But now it’s just another career choice such as banking or being a travel rep.

Bowie, 1998.

One of the hooks of BowieNet was that subscribers had their own personal Bowie email address. You could impress your friends by sending Clinton/Lewinsky jokes via “” So BowieBanc was the next step of fan identification. Starting in January 2000, BowieBanc offered an Internet-only bank account whose holders would receive Bowie brand ATM cards. One of the promos for opening a BowieBanc account was a year’s subscription to BowieNet.

His financial advisor Bill Zysblat told the FT: What [Bowie] is doing is taking his fan base, which 20 years ago had an affinity for wearing a T-shirt of his, and maybe 10 years ago graduated to wearing a golf shirt of his, and in the last three or four years has developed to being part of his online service, and trying to create that same affinity with what he is doing with online banking.”

Running this venture was It’s worth briefly recounting the history of this company, as it’s such a ridiculous metaphor for modern America you’d expect to find it in a Tom Wolfe novel. In 1887, a group of Quakers started the Peoples’ Thrift Savings Bank, an institution that thriftily endured for over a century. Then in 1995 an investment banker named Kenneth Tepper bought it, renamed it BankPhiladelphia (mashed/multi-capitalized names were hip for banks), bought some other local banks, took it public, renamed it again to USABancShares, increased its valuation from $18 million to $350 million in four years. He launched an on-line bank division in 1999, of which BowieBanc was the first big venture.

Bowie had no exposure to USABancShares, put up no capital and got paid for the use of his name and image. He was possibly the only person who came out unscathed from the venture, which only had 1,500 depositors by mid-2000 and lost $9.7 million that year. The company spent $6 million in marketing and lost $4 million in a year. Tepper soon left; the bank was delisted by Nasdaq and traded for a dime a share. “The expectations on us and on technology in general were unrealistic,” Tepper said. A customer reportedly also had committed fraud, allegedly leaving the bank with a $3 million debt. By March 2001, an ailing USABancShares was under the heel of the Federal Reserve Bank of Philadelphia, the Federal Deposit Insurance Corp. and the Pennsylvania Department of Banking. It was sold to a company run by its former chief financial officer, who took it private and returned to community banking. The whole affair seemed like a quiet Philadelphia bank’s mid-life crisis.

Sure, BowieBanc is a footnote in Bowie’s life, but it’s a jarring one. What was he doing having his face put on ATM cards? Imagine Greta Garbo letting her face appear on a box of breakfast cereal. It seemed the mad culmination of all of these whirligig ambitions: the need to be seemingly everywhere for his fans, to be accessible and down-to-earth, yet also having to exploit one’s legend enough that some fan would actually open a bank account to get Bowie’s face emblazoned on a checkbook.


When you arrive in Qualisar go up the ramp in front of you. Look for a sign that says Harvey’s Bar and enter it. Inside, first find the bathroom there is 10 Seteks in the first stall. Now go to the stage and enjoy the show. If you’re wondering why that guy sounds like David Bowie it is because he is. When the band is done go to the next building which is the Sex Shop.

Cody Pitre, Omikron Walkthrough Strategy Guide.

You’re not the first video game player to get your soul trapped in this dimension.

“Boz” (Bowie).

There was another Bowie computer-based venture in the late Nineties that was a stranger, and subtler take on this confusion. Omikron: the Nomad Soul was a game designed and developed by Quantic Dream and Eidos Interactive. The premise mingled Tron (gamers sucked into a videogame, where they have to fight for their lives) and Blade Runner, the Final Fantasy franchise (gamers could go “off narrative,” walk around virtual cities and hang out in bars) and Buddhism. The latter was a hook for Bowie. One of the premises of Omikron was that your “nomad soul” could transfer from body to body in the course of the game, using reincarnation as a means of advancement.

Further, Bowie had himself appear in the game, as “Boz,” leader of The Awakened (there was a futurist-Gnosticism going on in Omikron, similar to The Matrix, released the same year). “I saw Boz as being a kind of digital patchwork quilt, made up of all sorts of shifting patterns, fleeting thoughts, and fractured memories—someone who would slip in and out of focus, one moment drifting and world-weary, the next absolutely concise and direct,” Bowie said in an interview.

While back in reality he was listing his favorite coffees on his website, running baseball team ISPs and conferencing with bankers, in the game he was 25 again, hiding in catacombs and playing in dive bars, running a musical resistance unit. Sometimes he envisioned his ISP business to be the same. In interviews, he compared BowieNet and Ultrastar to “smaller cartels,” a sort of Rebel Alliance against the Empire (he liked to mentioned Bill Gates as an example of the latter).


Composing much of the Omikron soundtrack (Xavier Despas wrote about half of the instrumentals, Gabrels and Bowie the remainder) would be one impetus for “hours,” as we’ll see. There are in-game performances of “New Angels of Promise,” “Survive” and “The Pretty Things Are Going to Hell,” while mixes of many other “hours” tracks and outtakes can be heard over laser gunfights and demonic wrestling matches.

Four Bowie/Gabrels instrumentals were allegedly made specifically for the game, listed (on a French bootleg) as “Awaken 2,” “Thrust,” “Jangir” (though the region in the game was called “Jahangir”) and “Qualisar.” However, as some commenters on the Illustrated DB board noted, most of these instrumentals were actually early/different versions of “hours” B-sides. “Awakened 2,” for instance, is an instrumental version of “No One Calls,” while “Thrust,” heard during a rooftop battle with a demon, would become “1917.” There may be a few lost Bowie/Gabrels instrumentals buried in Omikron. A piece that I cleverly labeled “Demon Fight Music,” a grunting loop of what sounds like Bowie’s voice and Gabrels’ guitar heard during a battle scene, could be one [nope: turns out it’s a Gabrels-only composition, see comments.]


<David\bBowie> But I will be back sooner than I was
last time. I’m not sure that makes any sense.
What have you done to me?!
<David\bBowie> Good night Earthlings!
<hj>Beautiful! That’s it kids
<RaMOANa>WE love ya – bye bye luv
<hj>Bowie has left the building!
<Electric\bWarrior> nite all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*** Electric\bWarrior (ronroy@DPA) has left
End of #ChatGuest buffer Tue Apr 27 23:30:20 1999

Reeves Gabrels, interviewed by David Buckley for a Bowie biography, was blunt about what he thought of internet branding ventures. “Your legacy, your story is what gets remembered.” Recalling his reputation as Tin Machine’s “art snob,” he happily owned it. “It did point out an aspect of my respect for what I do. I personally don’t believe that using your music to sell products is cool. It devalues the art…it devalues its meaning and emotional content.” He and Bowie soon parted company.

Around 2004, coinciding with Bowie’s sudden retirement, BowieNet slowly began to stagnate. There would be fewer updates; the exclusives dried up. Generations of internet cycles passed it by: it slumbered through the rise of YouTube, Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr. In 2006, Bowie’s ISP business quietly shut down. Finally in March 2012, the Bowie Facebook page confirmed what had been obvious for five years: BowieNet was dead.


On his birthday this year, without warning, Bowie offered a new song. He put it up on YouTube and let people buy it on iTunes.

So he was back in the game, working the Internet hype cycle like a pro, but he wasn’t the glad-handing figure of the dot-com years. He gave no interviews. He wasn’t chatting, he wasn’t taking part in Q&As. His revived website is clean, functional, and updated regularly, and makes no pretense that it’s any sort of interactive realm between Bowie and his fans. Now he just makes videos and songs and puts them up on the Web with little notice or explanation. He’s back behind the glass: happy to be there, hope you’re happy too.

Many of the Omikron instrumentals were recorded ca. January 1999, in various studios in London and Paris (some may have been cut in Bermuda in late 1998). Omikron was released on 1 November 1999. Its soundtrack was never released as a stand-alone recording apart from a French “official” bootleg.

* This is part 1 (labeled as 2) of a multi-part walk-through of the entire game. Usually the next part will appear in the top-right corner of the screen should you like to keep going. There’s also a sped-up walkthrough on YT. Or you could make a rational choice and just not watch any of it.

** Interviewed by Yahoo! Internet Life in 1999, Bowie predicted MP3s would replace albums and music would be “on tap” through computers like water. But touchingly, he imagined that record stores would somehow remain central. He thought you would go to a record store in 2013 to have a clerk download tracks for you from some licensed database. “You go in and you’d ask the assistant for the menu and you choose exactly what tracks you want. And then they’ll be burned into a CD—if you’re that old-fashioned—or put onto a player.

40 Responses to Omikron: The Nomad Soul (& BowieBanc & BowieNet)

  1. gcreptile says:

    The late 90s were such a different time, especially when looked at through the economic lens. The New Economy was booming, there was the dot-com bubble. Most people (me, too) believed in the deregulation of markets. German chancellor Schroeder and Tony Blair tried to re-invent the Labour movement and their social-democratic parties. Bowie followed all the way: Internet boom, affinity for the financial markets, post-modern deconstruction of fame. Just one year later, the dot-com bubble imploded, 9/11 happened, there were the Enron/Worldcom scandals and so on and on… Luckily, Bowie sensed the changing times rather quickly – and Heathen became a much darker work.

    • col1234 says:

      cut from this overlong piece was a conversation I had in a bar in 1999 with a guy who worked at the notorious dot-com bubble casualty Kozmo

  2. 87Fan says:

    Bowie’s handle on his website was definitely “Sailor.” I know because you could “Ask Sailor a question” and if you were lucky, he would answer! As luck would have it, he answered mine: I asked about his thoughts on the late Stevie Ray Vaughan and whether or not he regretted their falling out prior to his rise in popularity (his response was to go buy a SRV album on which he wrote the prologue; I forget what it was but I remember looking it up and would characterize Bowie’s response as “at peace”).

    I would ask another question later, to which he never responded. My question was something like “Why do musicians only last about 10 years with you?” in reference to Reeves’ departure.

    I remember letting my BowieNet subscription lapse shortly after that.

    I still own the Omikron game, btw. It’s sitting on my shelf in its funky-shaped box. I occasionally think of taking it down to play it but frankly I didn’t find the game to be very fun the one time I did try it out.

  3. s.t. says:

    “On his website he posted journal entries (once musing how, in another life, he’d could be walking his grandchildren around Bromley by now)…”

    Interesting. Having always found most of the lyrics on Hours to be uncharacteristically banal for Bowie (“I should have been a wiser kinder guy”), I had concluded that they must be derived from musings about roads not taken, particularly roads that would have kept him from success and celebrity. Perhaps this quoted factoid at least suggests that this might have been the case?

    Such a thought experiment is natural for someone at this stage of his life; plus, it would have provided a new type of “slumming” for our artiste. Instead of hanging in seedy Philly studios, or writing about third world “people on streets,” this time he moonlighted as the middle-aged Joe Sixpack that he never got to be (damn that happiness, fortune, and lovely supermodel wife). This mythic Joe Sixpack would relate to songs of simple regrets, and would certainly warm to the friendlier rock sounds that were around the corner.

    • col1234 says:

      did you happen to see some upcoming entry drafts? hah. we’re on similar tracks, let’s say.

      • Sky-Possessing Spider says:

        On its’ release, Bowie claimed that the songs on “Hours” were not autobiographical, but based on the regrets and missed opportunities in life as recounted to him by unnamed “friends”. I’ve often suspected that such claims were just more smoke and mirrors by the ever elusive Mr Bowie, who was in fact singing about himself all along. Is this a line you’ll also be exploring when you get to this album Col?

      • s.t. says:

        Ah! nice to know I’m not crazy.

  4. Ramzi says:

    As someone born in 1995, this is all just very strange. He held Q&A’s with 2 fake Bowie’s and people had to guess the real one. He was in a videogame. He had his face on a credit card. The nineties, man.

    In regards to the picture of Yahoo magazine, I’m now desperate to see Chuck D rap about MP3.

    • Ididtheziggy says:

      Of I remember correctly, Public Enemy were the first artists of any importance to release an album for sale first through their website.

  5. Mr Tagomi says:

    I was never very big on video games, but I bought Omikron to hear the music, and liked it enough to play the game the whole way through twice. There’s plenty to keep one interested in it, and it has a unique atmosphere.

    I even went to the trouble of copying music from the game onto a minidisk.

    Can’t say I remember ever hearing The Pretty Things are Going to Hell in the game. But there is a version of Seven in it.

  6. Maj says:

    Well this whole thing narrowly passed me by. I only got my first computer & at first only slow dial-up access in 2004 so I pretty much missed all the BowieNet fun.
    The credit card venture always seemed bizarre to me. Not sure what else to say about that.
    I find the game idea, esp. if it featured Bowie’s own music, to actually be quite and in line with his whole persona. And the instrumentals were OK. I never really cared much for the game as I’m not a gamer & that hot for instrumentals made with 90’s computers so thanks for the link to the play-through. I’ll check it out.

    Great entry, btw! Almost Hours o’clock (ha!) isn’t it? Wooo

  7. Brian says:

    I actually liked Omikron a lot. Sure the combat’s aged terribly, but it does have a certain charm with its setting and the way you’re constantly shifting through characters. There’s a hilarious section where you go into Iman’s body and lead her on a rampage through some kind of enemy base if I recall.

  8. CosmicJive says:

    I played this game a lot and still like it. The atmosphere is great! I think the game’s ambition was a bit too ahead of its time. The technology just wasnt there yet to make it a flawless game. Perhaps time for a remake;-) ?

    Like to add some things about the game. Bowie had two parts in the game one as Boz the leader of the Awakened and also as the singer of The Dreamers. The Dreamers played secret gigs in some of the city’s districts. If I remember correctly they played “Survive”, “Something in The Air” and “The Pretty Things”.

    You could also buy ‘Transcans’ of The Dreamers in game. These contained the previously mentioned songs, but also “Thursdays Child”, “We All Go Through”, “The Dreamers”, “New Angels Of Promise” and “Seven”. The Iman avatar had all songs in her appartment. Also worth noting that “The Dreamers”, “New Angels” and “Seven” were unique Omikron mixes.

    That “fight song” is one of Reeves’ compositions. It can be heard in hand to hand combat mode. At the time Reeves released a download only album called ‘Brainchild’. It featured ambient songs based on the samples he used in the Nomad Soul compositions. I tried to find a link to it, but it seemed to have vanished from the net.

    • col1234 says:

      thanks. I’ll correct the demon fight credit. It’s very difficult to figure out who wrote what and even what the various tracks sounded like in this game, so any bit helps.

  9. Anonymous says:

    “The premise mingled Tron (gamers sucked into a videogame, where they have to fight for their lives) and Blade Runner, the Final Fantasy franchise (gamers could go “off narrative,” walk around virtual cities and hang out in bars) and Buddhism. The latter was a hook for Bowie. One of the premises of Omikron was that your “nomad soul” could transfer from body to body in the course of the game, using reincarnation as a means of advancement.”

    That would seem to be closer to Hinduism, since Buddhism explicitly denies the existence of both a soul and a self.

  10. Ididtheziggy says:

    Let’s list Bowienet members here. I was one. Think I was DavidD. I should probably check that email at some point.

  11. Momus says:

    I also signed up for Bowienet, which allowed me to have the brief exchange with Bowie outlined here:

    • 87Fan says:

      I already commented above, but I totally forgot that Bowie answered one of my questions on the forums of Bowienet once, too…

      He had just played a concert out in George WA during his Heathen tour and when he introduced “Ziggy Stardust” he said something about it being the last song he’d play in America.

      In the forums I asked whether anyone else heard him and wondered if he meant that he was retiring (because it was also the last show of the tour in North America, I believe) or what. I wasn’t sure how to interpret his comment.

      And then he answered! Simple, something like “What I meant was, when I play my last show Ziggy will be the last song I’ll play.” (signed by Sailor, so it had to be him).

      Of course, we now know his last song in NA wasn’t ZS but rather Changes… (assuming he doesn’t perform live again…)

      • s.t. says:

        This is only tangentially related to the thread, but my sole internet exchange with a celebrity of some sort was around this time, maybe ’98. It was an email question to KMFDM’s Sascha Konietzko. And for some reason I felt compelled to ask about David Bowie!

        I had read that he was a fan of Bowie, so I asked him what was his favorite song and his favorite album. He replied to me only 2 or so hours later, stating that it was “Ziggy Stardust for both.”

        Not really a revelatory insight, but it’s in keeping with the feeling of the time that the internet could grant users access to vast domains of knowledge, or even to the private space of a public figure. At the same time, it kind of stripped away the mystique of the artist. I was both impressed and disappointed that Sascha’s reply was so quick! And then I started picturing this badass rocker with a mohawk in his bedroom, doing air guitar as Ziggy plays it left hand.

        I think Greta Garbo was onto something about distance and image control, and the honeymoon phase of the internet ended abruptly for me with that “Rathergate” nonsense, but this early period of naive wonder was nonetheless quite thrilling.

  12. Bruised Passivity says:

    Came to embrace computers and the internet too late to have been involved with Bowienet but that is probably a good thing since I’d have likely been on it way too much. The idea that Bowie had made himself so seemingly open to his fans at that time does strike me as a throwback to his coffee shop folkie days in the sixties: seemingly present and sincere while delivering a deliberate performance. I’m not saying he was insincere in both cases but (as I undertand it) he’s really good at giving the illusion of intimacy and that he works hard at keeping his performance self and private life self very separate.
    LOL, I bet those bowiebanc cards are pretty collectable these days. I’d love to have one just for the kitsch factor alone.
    …Just a brief personal share, I just flew from Vancouver to Toronto today in order to see the David Bowie is… exhibit (so excited!) Since I was never able to see him live or interact with him online, nor is it likely he’s gonna do much (if any) touring in the future, this is probably the closest I will ever get to the man himself. Kinda feel like I’m on a Bowie pilgrimage. Anyone catch the exhibit in London?

  13. CosmicJive says:

    That Bowienet picture makes me really nostalgic. Bowienet, at that time, was a nice place to be. Like others here I was a member too. I won a ticket to the storytellers show in that first year:) And David responded to one of my questions at the Ask David section:)

    Cool thing about the Bnet was also the gallery, a section where people could post their work, be it pictures, paintings, poems or music. I met some cool musicians from across the globe there.

    Also David really participated on the messageboards as Sailor. And there were quite a lot chatsessions. Especially the first few were interesting.

  14. Will Brooker says:

    I don’t think anyone’s mentioned this side-note: Bowie appears, though not by name, in a William Gibson novel of the period — Idoru, I am pretty sure (1997), as ‘the Music Master’, an avatar with different coloured eyes within a virtual world. As I say, it isn’t specific but I think the implication is pretty clear.

  15. You know, when I was young, I thought Bowie was the coolest guy, cause he embraced the latest technologies. I was a bit of a technology freak back then and I liked his endeavours in cyberspace. I miss sites like Bowienet, cause they represented this glorious potential of the internet that got squandered. Or is that my nostalgia talking? Hm. 🙂

  16. KenHR says:

    I remember finding BowieNet. IIRC it was the first site I’d come across that required a plugin to operate properly: Shockwave.

    I had no CC back then (remember when you could do that?) so I couldn’t join. But I do remember the site looking slicker than just about anything else out there at the time.

  17. D says:

    God, this is fascinating. Beyond the obsessed group of fans who scour just about everything he’s done (I admit to sinking a lot of time playing Omirkon–what a beautiful disaster that game is), very few people even mention his 90s work and NOBODY talks about his venture onto the mysterious World Wide Web. I can say this with confidence because of how the press treats him since his comeback– it’s all Ziggy, Duke, and Berlin stuff… Really a shame that he only truly gets half-remembered.

    It’s more than a shame, though, when the media starts talking about how strangely Bowie is acting now. Really? Strange? If one is aware of his relationship history–his COMPLETE history–with the press, it makes complete sense. He simply acts in a way that’s entirely opposite to all of his celebrity peers.

    As explained by this article, we saw that in the 90s when he pulled a sort of 180 and became the most accessible celebrity you could find–of his fame, anyway. This made him special, refreshing, and everybody wanted to hear what he had to say. We talk about Bowie being so ahead of his time in the 70s (because, again, that’s the only thing people seem to want to talk about), but he was just as ahead, albeit in a completely different way, with Bowienet..and maybe the credit card thing, though I’m just learning about that now and I haven’t come to any conclusions about that yet.

    But now everybody is doing their own version of Bowienet, celebrities and normal people alike. It’s loud, it’s crowded, and it often reaches the point of tackiness with some people. It’s not cool in the way that Bowie was innovative and cool…It’s simply something expected of everyone.

    How does Bowie counter that? As big as he is, if he ran a Twitter or an Instagram page, he’d still be competing with those more “relevant”. Like he said in his Heathen days, the younger stars kill the older ones and that’s just how it goes. On some level he could still stand out because he’s David goddamn Bowie, but soon after his explosion back into our lives, he’d fade into the background of Lady Gaga’s Twitter updates or what-have-you. Things move so fast on the internet now and people become bored with things very quickly.

    So, like he’s done so many times before, he becomes the counter-weight and does what everyone else is NOT doing– shutting up. In every possible way, it works for him. He’d been out of the public eye anyway, so it’s not a blunt closing of the mouth that would leave people more confused than curious if all of a sudden he stopped doing ten interviews a week, or whatever it would have been. He was already silent– the only difference is that now people care again about what he has to say.

    By being the silent one, he’s strange and different. People wonder why he isn’t talking or interacting or doing all those things he used to do. Then every word that does come out of him is treated like some sort of word of God…because it HAS to be important if he speaks so infrequently, right?

    Some people, perhaps even fairly, feel a bit betrayed because they shelled out so much money back in the day to get a subscription on Bowienet: If he’s in good health and wants to work again, why can’t he find it within himself to come back to his most loyal fans?

    It’s a fair criticism. But if he did, he’s become average and lose his mysterious appeal.

    It’s come full circle, really. That sheet of glass that you mentioned: to become mystical and intriguing, he had to put it up and present himself as a cool alien that no one could understand. But that slowly broke down as it became less relevant until it he completely destroyed it with Bowienet. That made him intriguing and interesting on a completely new level and people were just as hooked. But as soon as the rest of the world caught up to him, he had to shift gears shut himself up in a way that no other celebrity–who wants to remain relevant–would dare to do now.

    By not saying a word he’s still the innovator we know and love. It’s frustrating, it’s painful, but it’s just as David Bowie as it’s always been.

  18. Jon says:

    He was so ahead of his time. Look at how musicians connect directly with their fans via Twitter and other platforms. It’s unfortunate he didn’t keep up with the changing times; imagine how far ahead of the game he’d be now.

  19. Silvercat says:

    Does anyone remember the online game from the ’90s that you could download and then wander through this weird world that Bowie had created? I don’t remember being able to actually do anything there, apart from walk through in a first person view, with there being psychodelic colours and weird music playing ….. Anyone know what it was called?

  20. tearoof says:

    The saddest part of the demise of bnet was when the fanart was lost … Some amazing stuff in there

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