When I was a high school sophomore, if you had decided you wanted to steal my album collection, you wouldn't have found much. Albums were expensive; I did not yet have a steady job that paid me a decent wage; I was a money hoarder, rarely spending what I had if it wasn't necessary; and I had plenty of albums to listen to, thanks to my older sisters (although one had gone off to college by then, she hadn't taken everything with her, and she often came home for vacations with new stuff). What you would have found, besides a few Cat Stevens, Elton John, Jethro Tull, and Beatles records was almost everything by Queen and David Bowie. When I discovered you'd stolen what measly offerings I had to offer, I would have been absolutely devastated to find the latter two missing.
My family had just come back from living in England where the village boys and Ian and I had spent hours swapping Queen and David Bowie albums back and forth with each other. Of course, they hadn't been busy falling madly in love with David Bowie, but I had been. That's a love that has never died. You know, despite his wild youth (or maybe because of it), he's aged quite well, hasn't he?
Can you imagine the throes of ecstasy into which I was thrown when this hit was released? Everyone had to shut up if I was in the room and this happened to come on the radio. I bought Queen's Greatest Hits album, which I certainly didn't need, just because this was on it. Take a look at the video. Look how young (and alive) they all are. Now, shut up, while I listen to it and watch it over, and over, and over (watch Brian May play that guitar! Look how cool and sexy Bowie is when he snaps his fingers!) again. Sigh!