David Bowie's Blackstar: Pop music becomes high art

There is usually no 'master plan' behind the best and worst things in life. Of course, 25-year-old Adele's 'come-back' has been carefully orchestrated, from the tentative release, to the title of the first song, the wave of spontaneous covers around the world and the announcement not to go on spotify (for now). In fact, the orchestration is so obvious that the people who came up with it risk falling through. The strongest asset they have for now is that Adele can actually do something. Not only does she have charisma, like Kanye West, but she can actually sing, and she has a story. That will be her salvation. For now. Whether she will ever get to the point where she can release an album titled '69', I doubt.

David Bowie will soon turn 69. His latest album will be released around his birthday. Its release has also been carefully orchestrated. Indeed, you would say that the release of Blackstar, the first track from that album, on 20 November, coincides with the presentation of Adele's CD for a reason. New releases create more focus from the press. Two extremes in terms of megastars create discussion on editorial boards, on Facebook, at the dog walk. They do not bite each other: on the contrary, they complement each other.

So marketers do do master plans. But so much for marketing. Because now we need to talk about Bowie. And his master plan.

Blackstar is an atrociously beautiful song, let me put that first. Even without the chilling music video, we hear in the lyrics and vocals a story of a frightening nightmare, which is impossible to pinpoint. Take in the clip, the mystery only increases. An astronaut lies in a desolate ruined landscape under a darkened sun. A mouse-tailed girl opens his helmet and pulls out the jewelled skull of the fallen astronaut.

The average Bowie fan just about cums at such images. So I enjoyed the clip. The girl with the mouse hair from Life on Mars meets Major Tom, about whom we heard back in 1980 that he was actually a junkie. That was what I was reminded of, but others on other forums will think of something else. The short feature that is Blackstar's music video challenges every viewer to interpret meaning, but does not reveal its secrets. Something that has intrigued Bowie fans immensely since 1969 (or 1964 for the diehards): Bowie seems to work from a master plan, laying down traces of his true intentions everywhere but never revealing those intentions.

Online magazine Noisey posted on Friday, November 20 an interview with the director of the clip of Blackstar, John Renck. Renck directed the series of which Blackstar is the lead music. He also directed episodes of Breaking Bad and Walking Dead, and the two found each other in their love for the indeterminate.

Renck says the process of making the clip was intuitive but precise. The division of labour was clear: Bowie came up with image suggestions and story ideas, and Renck executed them his way. This also explains why the clip is such a pleasure to watch. Every frame was made with fun and conviction, the images are pregnant with meaning, but none of the makers set out to create a 'master plan', a clear narrative, a search board to which an outcome is attached.

Bowie and Renck's clip is video art as video art should be anno 2015: inspired, matured, communicative, mysterious and convincing, while leaving enough to come back to again and again. We get to think of the story itself, which is Renck's answer to the first question, whether Major Tom is really dead: 'Most of these things are for the eyes of the viewer, you know? You can make of it what you like. What I can say is that, on the one hand, there is no deliberate, underlying strong insertion to refer to any past. On the other hand: many of these ideas are the result of conversations between David and me. David sent me drawings, and I sent back a mess of stuff. That's how we bounced back and forth.'

The finest art is art that invites reflection without providing, or even having, answers of its own. That has always been the master plan behind Bowie's career, from juggling loose phrases in the 1970s, through a disturbing concept album like 1: Outside, to his glorious comeback with The Next Day: sadder and wiser, but still pure rock. Bowie is a fine wine, which only gets better, deeper and more sophisticated with age.

The fans, of which I am one, are as colourful and mutually diverse as the man's musical career itself. There is no such thing market, like Kanye West or Adele to be marketed. Bowie's story developed all by itself. After all, what marketer can think of a pop star's entire career to make people think, secretly, that Bowie is actually really from another planet?

The Man Who Fell To Earth likes it all himself. He will miss no opportunity to add something to the mystery. Five years ago, he made a wonderful joke about it:

Do you have the answer? Give it in the comments below.