Don’t look at the carpet! I drew something awful on it.

"making sure white stains"

So Crowley raises his head again in the mid-seventies, as Bowie becomes obsessed with the Occult, Nazism & a lifestyle driven by paranoia, self-loathing and cocaine. Not a good mix. That he should be able to make his best film and produce two diverse outrageously-brilliant pieces of work (which remain influential to this day) is remarkable.

That he was able to work at all is an achievement. One friend thought he would not survive 75, let alone undertake a globally-successful world tour in 76.

So what's with the title of this page?

In 1976 Bowie committed to the song Breaking Glass (from Low) his memories of his drug-fuelled days in LA, when he thought black girls who visited his house were witches! He had his swimming-pool exorcised and kept his urine in bottles in his fridge, in case it was stolen for nefarious purpose. Odd times. Absolute madness to the reader from decades afar. But it happened.

Unsettling that a mind can become so unhinged. Also, he drew pentagrams on the floor of his house, too. Possessed all right. By coke!

It's part of the reason Low sounds so cold at times - it wasn't a vision of happiness. Even the lilting Sound & Vision refers to a man in isolation with the blinds drawn all day in a colourless world. The period in question was 1975 mainly. The drugs kicked in big-time through 1974 on the USA tour and there were glimpses, only, of a relapse (of consumption) during the filming of The Man Who Fell To Earth in New Mexico. Bolan had been in a similar mess through 1973-1975 until parental responsibility and a return to the UK began a slow incubation with the real world.

Bowie's head was further turned by a obsession with Nazi memorabilia and an unfortunate proclivity for apparent sympathy with Reichian interests (sometimes publicly). To compound this with a fascination in the Occult and devilry did little for a fragile mind on the verge of a breakdown. With mental illness acknowledged in the family there were genuine concerns that 1976 would never be an option for Bowie. Wild and desperate transatlantic phone-calls (to his now-estranged wife) confirmed this fragility.

Bowie was shot. The result of all this? One of the greatest albums ever recorded. (Word on a Wing & Wild is the Wind) Rumour has it that the musicians were taking so much creatively-casual coke that they remembered little of its creation. Thus was born Station to Station, followed by a World Tour. Some commentators still regard this tour as one of the best watches of R & B to rock ever witnessed.

Bolan caught it in the UK in 76 & was rightly stunned - his old mate had cracked it. Never again would he aim a cheap shot at Bowie.