I had a dream. It was one of Bowie's last-ever shows as Ziggy Stardust, and he was dressed like it--painfully beautiful in black maribou feathers and red vinyl, all coy glances and swinging hips, an otherwordly, cocksure ice nymphet for the ages. He wasn't alone, though. He was singing a duet with a disembodied head sporting a combination medieval princess coronet and flying nun wimple. They were singing "I Got You Babe" terribly sweetly to each other, and after a while I realized that 1) everyone involved was fantastically stoned, and 2) the disembodied head belonged to Marianne Faithfull, awkwardly caught in the long limbo between her "As Time Goes By" and "Broken English" eras. Bowie looked ready to spontaneously combust from his own hotness, Disembodied Nun Wimple Marianne threatened to float up towards the ceiling in a cloud of smack bliss, but the song stumbled on to its heady, horny finish amid superfluous backup singer rump-shaking and the slack-jawed disbelief of all.
ONLY IT WASN'T A DREAM, KITTENS. It was real.
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