Starbenders Touch Down for One Night Only at The Masquerade

Throw Siouxsie and the Banshees, the best of Led Zeppelin, and early Evanescence into a blender, and what you’ll get is a delicious four-piece rock ‘n’ roll machine with the best haircuts you’ve ever seen. They’re called Starbenders, and the Atlanta-born glam rock band played a one-night-only concert at The Masquerade’s Hell venue on Nov. 9—their first home show in over a year. 

(Left to Right) Aaron Lecesne, Kimi Shelter, Qi Wei, Kriss Tokaji | Photo by: Alec Weeks

I spoke with Kimi Shelter, frontwoman of Starbenders, over Zoom in the days leading up to the concert. Though a decidedly un-rock ‘n’ roll way of meeting, her raw coolness still bled through the screen. She wore an Afghan coat and a red Gavroche cap, and she sat in a closet full of sound-muffling vintage coats; “I’m in [here] because my drummer is playing right now,” Shelter clarified, laughing. After bonding over our curly hair, we talked all things Starbenders and coming home. 

Originally rooted to the suburbs of Atlanta, Shelter expressed disbelief at the fact that she’s now been all over the world; “I didn't get on a plane until I was in my 20s. All of a sudden, not only are you traveling and seeing all these places—you're doing it with your music.” Though not their first rodeo overseas, Starbenders opened for “gloom pop” singer Mothica in Europe and the U.K. in September, even headlining their own shows in Finland and Greece. After taking a break in October, the band was ready and raring to play for their hometown. “We changed PTSD to ‘post-tour stress disorder,’” Shelter said of the band’s anxiety while idle. “Our purpose is to be out there playing music.” 

The concert was born out of total darkness—fitting for a venue called Hell. I could hardly see my notebook as the band trickled out on stage. But in the strobing flash of police lights and a dirty guitar riff, Starbenders opened hard with power anthem “Blood Moon.” Shelter was resplendent in head-to-toe black with a leather harness and classic white goth makeup. As the song claims: she’s got “enough star power to light up every room.” 

Shelter described her songwriting process as “alchemical,” and the four main elements of alchemy were all I could think about while watching Starbenders perform. They are truly the synthesis of earth, air, water, and fire. Kriss Tokaji on lead guitar is undoubtedly earth, even if one didn’t take into account his sturdy build plainly visible under his leather jacket. He stomps around the stage while he plays, and his dark curls hide his face akin to the boughs of a weeping willow. Bassist Aaron Lecesne is the air; despite how low his instrument lies in the sonic space, he’s lithe and lean and sparkling, full of energy and often found jumping in time with the music. Newcomer Qi Wei on drums is the embodiment of water. She’s got a cool confidence but an undeniable vigor as she plays, her long black hair flowing like a river. And Shelter is nothing if not fire. Her stage presence burns bright; she’s impossible to look away from. She’s completely aware of her own power, and she wields it wonderfully.  

Following “Blood Moon” were three songs just next-door to the ‘80s: “Holy Mother,” “Cover Me,” and “Seven White Horses.” Shelter announced the next song as “the time in the night where we cast a spell.” She instructed the audience to think about their desires and feel “the love and community that everybody needs right now.” The band slipped into the hypnotizing “BITCHES BE WITCHES” with its wicked pre-chorus: “Please don’t hate me, baby / That’s just how the Devil made me.” I wasn’t alive during the Satanic Panic, but I would have relished the outcries of those scandalized mothers had this song been released in ‘87 rather than 2020.  

“Starbenders are the halfway home for misunderstood misfits, fringers and glam punks,” says the band’s bio on The Masquerade’s website. And it’s true. Blending the crowd-pleasing melodies of ‘70s popular rock with the drive of ‘80s punk and sprinkling in the grit of industrial metal, they’re truly rock for a new generation. They’ve even carved out their own slice of the genre: “ATL Glam,” Shelter calls it. “We adopted the terminology because we were falling in those same footsteps [of the originators of glam] in terms of marrying our love for the polished side of rock ‘n’ roll and the floofy blouses and all this kind of thing with the punk sentiment.” 

That punk sentiment was echoed in the next song, “We’re Not OK.” “We pay the price in modern times / And sing the song of religious crimes,” the lyrics go. The following section of the setlist was punch after punch of great music: Cyndi Lauper-esque “Cherry Wine,” addictive brand-new single “Tokyo,” breathy and seductive “Push,” and top song “The Game.” Shelter was well-aware of the audience’s spurred energy: “Now that I got y’all fuckin’ pumped, it’s time to bring it down,” she said, heralding an angsty romantic ballad, “Time Stops.” 

It was soon Wei’s time to shine in a drum solo. “Commanding, effortless, powerful” were the only words I could write down to describe it; I was spellbound. Wei was officially announced as a member of Starbenders Feb. 7 after the departure of their long-time drummer, Emily Moon, was reported just the day before on Instagram. “Change is in the air,” the latter post declared. Starbenders made waves with Wei; her involvement made the band the “first Western band with a Chinese citizen as a member,” according to the band’s Instagram. “There's obviously been bands that had members who were Chinese, but not Chinese citizens,” Shelter said. “Not only is she a badass drummer, but it's super crazy that we were able to pull it off.” Further highlighting Wei’s talent, she was able to travel to the U.S. under the O-1 Visa, which is for Individuals with Extraordinary Ability or Achievement. In response to a fan’s comment under the post, Starbenders noted, “If you knew how nearly impossible it was to secure the O1 visa and how many people we mobilized to help make this happen, you would be shocked.” 

Wei’s driving beat carried the next song on the setlist, which possesses a shock factor of its own. Again, scandalized mothers: turn away. The simply titled “Sex” is for the punks. And so is the final song of the night, “If You Need It,” which is a screaming anthem about love and drugs. These two little songs fulfilled the three-part prophecy set out for every band—sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll. 

“If You Need It” ended in near-reverential silence; the audience waited on a razor’s edge for the final note to fade out before cheering rapturously. And then they stayed firmly put and chanted “Star-ben-ders!" until the band came back on stage. Shelter greeted the eagerly awaiting crowd with a cheeky “Oh, hello.” In a moment of vulnerability, she said, “It’s never missed on me how fuckin’ cool it is that I can do this with my friends, and to meet all of you. We love you guys so much.” The band then launched into a quick one-two encore: goth-poppy “Diet Soda,” which Shelter dedicated to the fans who had traveled far to be there that night, and classic rockin’ “Body Talk.”  

The music's wide spectrum of emotion made the night’s setlist dynamic and the energy ever-increasing—both thanks to the band’s performance chops and Shelter’s writing prowess. The songs come from many places for Shelter: “Sometimes it's just pure inspiration. Sometimes it's necessity. Sometimes it's like, ‘Oh, fuck, I have to write a song that's gonna, like, save everyone.’” As the “architect” of most Starbenders songs, she’s found many methods in triggering the creative process. But as for what doesn’t spawn songs: “The only thing that doesn't really inspire me is anger,” Shelter said. “I'm a Pisces and middle child, so I probably should be more angry, but I'm not.” 

Kimi Shelter | Photo by: Alec Weeks

Starbenders’ music comes from an inimitable place with their myriad musical inspirations, from Vivaldi to the New York Dolls, plus the diversity of their hometown city of Atlanta itself. “I think Atlanta is really unique,” Shelter said. “You turn the corner and you're surrounded by a different group of people or different culture, and then you turn the next corner, and it's the same thing. Every night of the week you can go see different kinds of music anywhere.” The same could be said of The Masquerade itself the night Starbenders played; alternative electronic project Machine Girl took up house in Heaven, and singer/songwriter Anthony Raneri played at the Altar. “There's just diversity everywhere—and the permission to be diverse,” Shelter said. 

Starbenders has been around since 2013, and with three EP’s, three studio albums, several tours under their belt, and a new album coming in the spring, they're only picking up speed. “I feel like I was a kid when we started getting going,” Shelter said. “And a big part of [being in a band], too, is allowing the thing to grow and evolve, and not being afraid of changes. In music, we call it ‘playing the changes.’” Though eager to take off on tour again, a stop in the band’s hometown was necessary to reset as a collective; “It's like a fair starting line [to set] for the band of being in this new chapter. Sometimes you don't really give yourself the grace that's required for starting over.” 

Brighton on Bowie: A Talk With "The World's Best David Bowie Impersonator"

Not many tribute acts can claim that they have their respective celebrity’s favor, but David Brighton’s “Space Oddity: The Quintessential David Bowie Tribute Experience” can. Brighton, the leader and founder of the act, has been portraying David Bowie since 2001 and has garnered praise from some of Bowie’s closest companions over the years. Due to his spot-on impersonation skills, he was even chosen to work with the man himself in 2003 for a Vittel bottled water commercial, playing each of his many personas.

David Brighton as the Thin White Duke | Photo courtesy of David Brighton

Space Oddity came to Gas South Theater in Duluth on Oct. 11, where the band performed a variety of Bowie’s songs from his extensive, five-decade career, dressed up and playing just like The Spiders from Mars. I spoke with Brighton over the phone on Nov. 5 during a break from his U.S. tour about his experience as a tribute artist. The following is our conversation, Bowie kid to Bowie kid.

[This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.]

---

First of all, thank you so much for speaking with me today. I'm really excited. I think this is going to be fun.

Happy to do it. Thank you for visiting our show.

Portraying David Bowie in your band, Space Oddity, isn't your first time impersonating a famous musical personality on stage. You portrayed George Harrison in various Beatles tribute bands. So how is portraying Bowie different?

George Harrison is a lead guitarist in the biggest band in the world or in history. I suppose some would argue that, but it's a fact. And he was a support character, really, between the two giant egos and talents, massive creative forces of Lennon and McCartney, and he stood between them and sang a couple songs while they sang the majority of the songs. That's sort of George’s job. [George] is an important character, but he is a support character. Bowie, of course, is the lead character and an insanely talented person with performance skills beyond any of this day, and incredible writing skills and production. I mean, just insane talent that you really had to learn a whole different repertoire of skills to even attempt to articulate on stage.

David Brighton as the Thin White Duke | Photo courtesy of David Brighton

I'm curious as to how Space Oddity began, and how one discovers that they have the ability to impersonate someone, let alone to the degree that you can embody Bowie. So how did this all get started?

Well, thank you. I'd been working with various Beatles groups, as you mentioned. And we went to see a show called “Legends in Concert”—the Las Vegas shows. And they had impersonators for Elvis, Madonna, Brittney Spears, and kind of anyone you could think of, but they didn't have a Bowie. And the reason I pointed out they didn't have a Bowie is because when I was growing up, Bowie was one of my favorite artists, and when I was in bands, I had record deals [before] doing any of this tribute universe. One complaint I used to get from producers is that when I sang, I sounded too much like Bowie, even when I tried not to. So it was just something that I always thought, ‘Well, that's a voice that kind of comes naturally.’ So, I’d been doing the George Harrison thing for a while. I felt like I'd learned probably what I was gonna learn from it, and I wonder if I could do a David Bowie act, you know? Take what I've learned from these Beatles productions I've been in and create a David Bowie show. So it was on the back burner between Beatlemania’s group-type tours. When I say Beatlemania type, I just meant I was working with a variety of Beatle-esque [groups]. And so in between tours, I'd be talking to musicians in LA, which is where I'm located, and seeing [if they would] be interested in participating in it. And we built it slowly and gradually and eventually started doing it.

As you said earlier, Bowie was such a singular artist and personality with really distinct performance mannerisms. What was it like becoming that, becoming Bowie?

It was impossible. [Laughs] And [still] is. At the time that we started. You know, you didn't have everything at your fingertips, like we do today, on the internet. I mean, we had the internet, but not everything was available yet. But long story short, I was a lead guitarist previous to this who sang, and Bowie is this, actor, dancer, mime, [he had an] enormous repertoire of performance skills that I didn't [have], and so I had to start studying videos and makeup and hair and costumes and all of this nutty stuff that if I had known what a big job it was going to be, I doubt that I would have undertaken because it's insane. But being the obsessive personality type, I kept at it, and, like I said, studied, studied, studied. The performance part was perhaps the most foreign, because he was such an outrageous extrovert on stage, which he was not really in real life, and nor was I. So I find it interesting that he adopted the Ziggy Stardust character, for example, as sort of a mask to hide behind because of his shyness or whatever. And when I did the same, it had the same effect for me, where I was able to be much more outrageous wearing this disguise, in essence. It was kind of freeing and interesting. But to reiterate, an enormous, an enormous amount of studying and practice went into it and continues to—and expense with costumes and replicates. You know, just replicating the various outfits that he wore down to the thread and driving the poor costume makers out of their minds.

David Brighton as Ziggy Stardust | Photo by: Radar Photography NZ

The performance part was perhaps the most foreign, because he was such an outrageous extrovert on stage, which he was not really in real life, and nor was I.

And you’re from Los Angeles. So how did you perfect that South London-meets-Yorkshire accent that Bowie had?

My lineage has got a lot of English in it, and I grew up on all of this English rock and TV and movies—it's just always around. And I practice, you know? And it's a funny thing, even when I was doing George, English people would come up to me sometimes after the show, and I'd be singing the song, “Something,” and this English man says to me, “David, it's not sumething, it's soomething.” [They’d] show me these little nuances. And so that kind of stuff is always helpful.

I have to talk about the outfits too. I'm a huge Bowie fashion enthusiast. So, you wear almost exact replicas of some of Bowie’s various costumes from across many of his eras. So tell me about those and the process of that.

I found an amazing costume maker that I've been working with for the say, six years, and she puts up with my nuttiness over the details. But before that, [laughs] I think some of the costumers were hoping I'd lose their phone number. Because, again, if you're going to imitate anyone, you have to do your best at it—if you're nuts, like us, in our group, but not only out of respect, because otherwise, it's just sort of, it's just stupid. So, long story short, we take that part way too seriously, and we probably need psychiatric help. But to answer your question, in LA, fortunately, there are a lot of costume makers that work in the film industry and TV industry, and they are available. And so, I give them as many photographs as I can provide them with from books and so and videos and so forth. And some of them noticed things I didn't notice. I was really happy to find those that wanted to get every detail right. But it's a costly endeavor, of course. And my Beatles tours financed that in the beginning, before the Bowie show [ever started]. And then, of course, we've been doing the Bowie thing, [and now] it’s financed by the Bowie show. Incredible attention to detail by the people who make the costumes, and they do such a great job.

You have such an attention to detail in the costumes, but you also have attention to detail during your performances, like I noticed that you copied almost exact vocal and tempo changes that Bowie made from studio to stage in “Moonage Daydream,” “Oh, You Pretty Things,” and “Jean Genie” in particular. So, what other details in your performances do you hope the audiences notice?

Wow. Thank you. It's hard for me to get really specific on that, but I hope that people will just appreciate the effort that goes into it, especially since poor David passed. Bowie fans are a little different than, say, Beatles fans. Some of them are suspicious: “Who is this? Who thinks they can imitate our hero—who do they think they are?” A few people have that kind of attitude. So, I hope when we encounter that, [I hope] they will see the hard work that went into it and respect [it], and not take that kind of adversarial stance. In general, I've had many people come up to me and say, you know, they were sitting in the back with their arms folded with that kind of attitude that I just described, and then they realized, “Okay, these people are really serious and they're really trying, and this is done with respect, and they're certainly not trying to cash in.” If I may say this, there was some suspicion that we were trying to cash in once Bowie passed, and we had to point out we've been doing this since the year 2001. We didn't start this act in 2016, so that's really not a fair accusation. And of course, that went away. They stopped doing that. But it's a strange, strange world. It's a strange universe to be swimming in.

Some tribute bands don't dress up or really perform as the band they're impersonating. So how do you think dressing up and taking on the personas changes your performance or the audience's reactions?

To me, if you're not doing those things, and you're just playing their songs, I would call it something else. Because to me, the rock music era was the marriage of sight and sound. With all the great rock acts, what you saw was 50% of the experience. Absolutely, the music was totally important. However, the act was equally as important with Bowie, the Beatles, the Who, Queen. I’m talking about, again, the rock era. It was a show. Elvis, [even though that was before the rock era], he set the stage for all this stuff. Everybody that came after, at least in England, all these English acts, they thought Elvis was it. So to me, at least with Bowie, you're not presenting Bowie if you're not presenting the vision. It's not what I would call a tribute show.

David Brighton | Photo courtesy of David Brighton

Because to me, the rock music era was the marriage of sight and sound. With all the great rock acts, what you saw was 50% of the experience.

What do you think about when you're on stage as Bowie? Like, are you you, or are you him?

I try not to think, because, as you know, you've got two sides of our brain, and one side trips up to the other—if you're trying to get in sort of a flow, an intuitive flow, your cognitive side of your brain can really trip that up. The truth is, just the fact that [David Bowie] walked out on stage, everyone's excited to be in the same room with David Bowie and at a Bowie concert. Not being Bowie, you don't have that. You have to work harder. You have to do things to involve the audience that the original artists might not have to do because they are them. And long story short, I try to get in the flow and portray him and all the mannerisms that I've fed in by watching and studying. At the same time, I add things that I've learned as a performer help an audience engage. There's a mixture. However, I'm trying to, as much as it's humanly possible, integrate what I've learned from Bowie's mannerisms and everything into the mix.

So I'm assuming you were a ‘Bowie kid’ growing up?

Oh yeah, yeah. I heard him on the radio, and there was nothing like that. It was, like you said earlier, he's just completely unique. He worked with also some of the greatest musicians on the planet, and he is a true collaborator with his musicians. If you listen to albums with Mick Ronson on them, Mick was an enormous part of the music. Mike Garson, Trevor Bolder, and the rest; they're all completely contributing, and each different band does the same. So, it's a really fascinating body of work. So yes, I was always [a ‘Bowie kid’]--once I heard it, I was in. I went back and bought all the records that were before I knew about them.

Being a ‘Bowie kid’ is a feeling that really only fellow ‘Bowie kids’ understand. What does it mean to you?

Where I live, [there are] so many musicians [for whom] Bowie is one of their favorites. And I suppose when I first discovered him, I might have been one of the few, you know, but I don't know. I've analyzed it, you know; what is it about whoever we gravitate toward musically? It's not just the music that we gravitate toward, it is something subconscious or primal or something going on under the surface that attracts us to certain things and characters. And what is it? And I think with Bowie, it's the sense of alienation, perhaps, and overcoming that. You don't think about that consciously when you're just listening or watching, but it's woven into the fabric of what he did. It's like this space-age rock and roll alien, Ziggy Stardust. I mean, what does all that mean? And I think it, like I said, it ties in this whole sense of alienation and perhaps overcoming it and finding connection, human connection. But anyway, it's an interesting community. I just know so but like I said, in LA I just know so many people love Bowie and always did. How about you?

Oh, yeah. Huge fan. I really only started getting into it like two years ago, and I’m only 20, so it’s been huge for me. I’m looking up at my dorm wall right now, and I have six posters of him.

Do you gravitate toward one particular area of his lengthy career over another? Or do you favor all of it?

I really love all of it, but Ziggy Stardust just has my heart.

Yeah, that era, I call that the rock era. That's my favorite era. I think it was probably his [favorite], to be honest. [It] was his first successful thing, and he'd been trying for a long time before he made it and sort of hit on the right combination with Ziggy... All right, we'll get back to your thing. I started to nerd out with you there.

I love to nerd out. That’s the whole point of this. So, tribute bands like yours allow audiences to experience their favorite songs live—either again or for the very first time, in my case—and they keep the music of older artists and bands alive. How have you seen Bowie's enduring influence in your audiences?

David Brighton as Halloween Jack | Photo by: Ron Lyon

I see the glassy look on people's eyes that they're going back in time, you know, which is the greatest feeling in the world to see, because that's the point: to transport oneself, and hopefully other people will be transported with you to another time and place. A big thing about music in general, and with Bowie, I guess I see a freedom, a certain freedom to be who you are.

I felt that because I teared up when you sang “Space Oddity” and “Starman” specifically because I never got to see Bowie live, like I was only 12 when he died. So, I felt for a moment that he was actually on that stage in front of me. And that was incredible. So, thank you for that.

Well, thank you for saying that. I would say you can never be someone else, and the point isn't really to be someone, but it's a sort of give what you can of what you got from someone else; like this is what I got from this, [other] people get this from it, too. That's sort of one of the things behind it.

You've had many people close to Bowie praise your performances—from Harry Maslin, the producer of Young Americans and Station to Station, to Bob Barnes, one of his lighting directors. What is that like as a tribute performer?

Very unexpected. Of course, it's always really nice to feel like someone's giving you a pat on the back. Harry Maslin, that shocked me. I was very thankful for that, and Bob Barnes, the same. And then Bowie's webmaster, from day one. David Bowie's website would post stuff about us. He and I started emailing one another over the years. People have asked me “Did Bowie ever see your act?” [Once] somebody came up and we said, “Yeah, Bowie did see you. He just sat in the back because he's not the type to go [to the front].” I don't know if it's true, but somebody told me that, and I didn't ask. What the webmaster said [in an email], though, he said “Bowie was very in favor of your act.” So, whoa, you know?

That has to feel amazing.

I did work with Bowie on a TV commercial, but we didn’t talk, you know what I mean? It was all like, “Get in costume, get in makeup. Shoot this, say this, do this.” And it was great. But I’m just saying we didn’t just sit around chatting or anything. He’s very cordial and very friendly. But it was all, “Hi, I’m David, let’s get to work.” But to hear that David Bowie favored our act was surreal. It’s very nice to hear that, of course, and I’m very thankful that he was always so generous with us. He didn’t have to be, [but], like I said, his website and his social media would post our gigs sometimes and do little articles on us occasionally. They didn’t have to do that. The Beatles viewed the whole tribute world in an opposite way. They viewed it like they were being ripped off, unfortunately. And then Bowie viewed it completely like, “Oh, this is great.” I think he’s flattered by it. I’m very grateful, like I said; he’s very generous, very gracious with us.

David Brighton as Ziggy Stardust | Photo courtesy of David Brighton

I imagine it must be a little bit strange to dedicate your career to someone else or another artist, rather than taking the spotlight as yourself.

It is strange, and it’s not something I ever planned. As I mentioned, I was a career guitar player in my youth, and I played with various acts, some with record deals, some trying to get record deals. I’m still a songwriter to this day, and I still continue to write and record songs, as do all the members in our group. We’re all professional musicians, and the Bowie show is one of the things we do in life. However, we found that when we were doing original music, sometimes we would be making money, and sometimes we would have to work day jobs. Many of my players have been sidemen for major acts. You know, the Doors do tours without Jim Morrison. Eddie Money, America, Nancy Sinatra. I was a side man for a while, too, in my youth. However, I always wanted to write my own material into it, so I never stopped doing that. But I found that there was a market for doing the tribute thing, and I enjoyed it. I enjoyed putting the songs and the performances under the microscope and really learn what made it all tick. I found that all fascinating with the Beatles and with Bowie. I wouldn’t do the same with an act that I wasn’t really into. It’s one of the things I do in life because if it was all [I did], I wouldn’t be happy doing only [that]. But I’ve gotten to travel the world many times, met a lot of amazing people, and the pluses are all there.

So you already talked a little bit about it, but you did meet and work with David Bowie himself on a 2003 Vittel bottled water commercial—tell me about that!

The whole thing was very surreal, and I was thankful and appreciative of the opportunity. And again, it’s always nice to get a pat on the head, but literally, in fact, on the set, patting me on the head. I don’t remember why, but it was funny. Since my name is David, and of course, his name is David, the director would say, “Okay, Big David”--talking about Mr. Bowie-- “and little David, you do this.” The whole thing was incredibly surreal: standing next to this guy who’s changed the world with music while the director’s telling us what to do. And, of course, when you’re young and you want to make it [as] yourself, you don’t expect to stand next to one of your heroes dressed as him. That was very, very weird. The reason they found me was because, again, the webmaster said to—he told me this years later—he said “You should check out this David Brighton guy for your commercial” because he was aware of our act and he appreciated the effort that went into it. So anyway, it was sort of every emotion you can imagine, from “Wow, this is weird,” to “Oh, this is incredible,” to “Wow, this is weird.” [Laughs] And educational, as well. I found out on set that not only was [Bowie] incredibly intelligent, but he had a photographic memory. I learned that because the director said—they had just watched a take on the monitor—and he says, “Can you do that again?” “Yeah, I’ve got a photographic memory,” and then he does it exactly the same. And then later, talked to the director, and we’re commenting on just how brilliant this man was, and the director says, “Well, there’s a reason he’s a superstar!" It was education up close. And he had a repertoire of skills, performance skills that no one had ever seen, that he would just pull out of his hat between takes, just doing mime and doing all these Vaudeville routines and stuff. It’s really incredible.

Yeah, he’s the man. [Laughs] So this next little bit is just rapid fire of favorite Bowie things. We can nerd out a little. Favorite era of Bowie?

The rock era that Mick Ronson and Earl Slick played with them, set the early to mid 70’s, but primarily what I’ll call the Mick Ronson era.

Favorite outfit?

Wow. Can you choose one? That changes. Many of the Ziggy costumes. You don’t get any cooler than that stuff, especially that crazy one—they call it [“Rites of Spring”]. It’s a black costume with a strange thumbprint design on it, six feet on each side. I love it. That's a bizarre space-age thing. And it’s the coolest thing. Of course, it’s very unwieldy on stage. There’s not much you can do in it but stand there and look strange. I think that’s the coolest. And Thin White Duke, that’s a great look: the black vest, the white shirt, the black trousers. Then, the 80’s as well, in the Glass Spider tour, he wore this red suit that was just incredible. So, every era, he’s got something cool. But I think, again, the most “what in the hell was that?” was that [“Rites of Spring”] costume.

David Brighton as Ziggy Stardust | Photo by: Steve Gaglio

Favorite album?

Aladdin Sane.

Good one. Favorite song?

I don’t know my favorite song, but I’m just gonna say “Panic in Detroit” was one that really got my attention when I was a kid, just because there’s no other song like it. And Mick Ronson really has magic to his playing—everybody on that song does—but his guitar playing just gives you chills, you know? He’s not trying to impress you; he’s trying to get into your soul.

Yeah, he’s incredible. Favorite deep cut?

Too many to mention. “Time.” And “Cygnet Committee” I don’t know if it’s a favorite, but [it’s] a remarkable piece for someone that young to have written. I’m gonna say “Time,” maybe, today.

Do you have a favorite lyric in particular? Or a phrase?

There are so many.

Yeah. These are the hardest questions of the interview.

I don’t know why this is popping into my head because I never considered it, but “Look out, you rock n’ rollers, pretty soon you’re gonna get older.”

Lately, “It was cold and it rained, so I felt like an actor” has been rolling around in my head. From “Five Years.”

Brilliant. Brilliant. It’s just... so many. His lyrics are so unique, especially during that era, during the 70’s, where they’re sort of cinematic, but they’re never obvious. You’ve read about his intentionally sort of dicing lyrics up and putting things together that don’t normally go together. “Cold fire, you’ve got everything but cold fire.” Things like that. “Watch that man.” I don’t know. On the Aladdin Sane album, for example, “Millions weep a fountain, just in case of sunrise.” What? It’s just one line after another, insanely brilliant.

Well, this is the last question: is there any question that I haven’t asked that you want to answer? Or anything you want to say in general?

Yeah, there are a couple little things, if I may. I would like to thank the people from Bowie’s camp that have always been so supportive, like David himself, Mike Garson, Earl Slick, Harry Maslin, Bob Barnes, and, of course, Mark Adams at BowieNet. Those are people that all along the way were very encouraging. And, again, they didn’t have to be, but they were. Such as, like, Bowie was on his last tour in 2004, and I received a correspondence from their camp saying, “Are you guys playing anywhere? We want to come see you on our day off.” Bowie’s people wanted to come see our act. I thought that was incredibly great of them. And I’d like to say that the musicians that I’m playing with, I’m so thankful for. Like I mentioned, some of them played with the Doors, the Pussycat Dolls, Jeff Beck, Joe Walsh. I could keep going name after name after name. And they’re incredible musicians, which you need to do a Bowie show, because Bowie plays every kind of music under the sun, and they’re also great people. They’re a great hang, and I’m very thankful for them.

David Brighton as Ziggy Stardust and Switch as Mick Ronson performing on AXS TV | Photo courtesy of David Brighton

I kept leaning over to my dad during the show; I was like, “The Mick Ronson is spot on!”

The funny thing about that is Mick Ronson wasn’t really a show-off in his playing. He wasn’t really trying to show off his technical expertise. He was playing music as opposed to sports on the guitar. And our Mick Ronson, Switch: phenomenal guitar player. He grew up in a different era, where you had Eddie Van Halen and Randy Rhoads playing all this technical stuff; very flashy. I only let [Switch] do that during extended jams. [Laughs] After he’s played the correct stuff, he can get into doing the stuff that came later. But what my point about him is he has to really show a lot of restraint during the show in order to not do all these other things he’s learned. Strange, strange dude. But yeah, he’s amazing and a great guy—he’s really funny, we call him Comedian.

I love it. Well, I think that’s it for my questions. Were there any other things you wanted to tack on at the end here?

I could just talk way too long. It’s just been a strange, interesting ride. And as I said, it’s one of the things that we do in life. And I’m thankful. Thank you to David and his musicians for leaving us this incredible catalog of work.

Rehearsal Room C Holds World Premiere of "Once the Orchestrion Shatters"

“Once the Orchestrion Shatters,” directed by junior Eden Lipham, and written by Frankin and Marshall College ‘23 graduate, Kendall Lipham, premiered Oct. 17-20 at the Conant Performing Arts Center. Rehearsal Room C (RRC), Oglethorpe’s student theatre production company, put on the one-act play.

“Orchestrions are big and beautiful and pretty obsolete, and the idea of one slowly deteriorating served as the primary metaphor on which the story was built,” Kendall said. According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, an orchestrion is “a mechanical device provided with different stops capable of imitating a variety of musical instruments.” Kendall said, “In a similar way, the story is about a collection of unique beings that are designed by some higher power to work in harmony at all times. But more importantly, it’s about the consequences of living without identity.”

Photo by: Rachel Spooner

The show opened with a “worker” named Charles who introduced a high-end collection of robots meant to mimic the perfect family. The first scene reflected just that: a prim and light-hearted dollhouse scene of a family dinner, complete with a laugh track. Kendall said, “In my writing, I was hoping to explore the strain of familial, religious, and gendered expectations, specifically in 1950s America, as well as how the pressure to be perfect is often what keeps us from actualizing and growing.”

That pressure caused the robots to break down after Josephine, one of the daughters, says grace, prompting “workers” to come onstage and wind them back up. Then the same scene took place again, but slightly changed. “The show is about the cyclical nature of family life, especially in the modern Christian home,” Eden said. “[There is] an obsession with the perfect image.” The family dinner repeated again and again with modifications that conveyed the underlying hostilities each member held for the others until the family descended into utter chaos due to their problems never being spoken about. Eden said, “To address it is to acknowledge that something is wrong.”

Kendall said, “The whole purpose was to increase the suspense and tension, creating a kind of uncanny valley effect where it’s almost unbearable to watch the family try to live within the parameters set out for them.” The themes in this play built upon those in their first, “The Reactionary Conscience,” written in 2020 about a family trapped inside their home during a tornado. Claustrophobic settings and the complexities of familial relationships seemed to be a theme in Kendall’s writing.

With only 7 named roles, a single set, and a 45-minute script, the play existed in extremely confined borders by origin. Adding on the limited budget of RRC, those borders were even smaller. But the sibling team was confident that Oglethorpe was the right venue for putting this play on for the very first time—both mentioned the immense trust they had in each other in this creative endeavor.

“Once the Orchestrion Shatters” marked many firsts for the team—it was Eden’s directorial debut and Kendall’s first play to be produced. Eden said, “It's definitely been probably the biggest learning experience I've had here at Oglethorpe and in life in general.” She mentioned that finding a balance between logistics and creativity was a particular challenge, but not insurmountable, especially not with Kendall’s support. Kendall said, “No matter what, I know I'll always be [Eden’s] biggest fan, always."

The support went both ways, though; Kendall said, “Doing this with Eden was the only option, mostly because no one else would’ve read it if she didn’t push me to share it.” Prior to the beginning of the production process, only three people, including Eden, had read the play. “Obviously, growing up together, we had a similar experience with family and religion,” Kendall said of Eden, “and if anyone could understand the perspective I was writing from, it would be someone who was there with me for every moment that informed my writing.” With the personal nature of the play, she mentioned that she felt vulnerable sharing it on a stage. “But Eden assured me that she was passionate about the project and had shared it with other friends who saw a vision for the story as well. This project has really built my confidence as a writer and made me realize I want people to read this.”

Eden echoed this confidence boost but from her and the students’ perspective. She mentioned that, with the comprehensive training that Oglethorpe provides, its actors are prepared to originate roles, and crew members are prepared to create production designs with no prior installments referred to, but many haven’t had the opportunity before “Once the Orchestrion Shatters.” “Working on an original piece, something that's never been done before, and really just getting to explore the text on our own and define what that means to us, has been amazing.”

Kendall hoped to one day publish the play and make it available for other companies to produce. “I like to think anyone could see themselves reflected in the story somewhere,” she said. “Especially because each character has a distinct connection to family, religion, and gender, which are three institutions in America that no one can escape being subject to. I hope audiences can walk away knowing themselves a little bit better after reflecting on which issues they might relate to.”

Eden said, “I'm very proud of everybody that has worked on the show, and I know that a lot of people have been looking to me as the director, being like, ‘well, it's your show, it's your thing,’ but it's not. The moment that designers were selected, the moment that actors were cast, it wasn't mine anymore, it wasn't Kendall’s anymore—it became something that was bigger than us individually.”