From about the age of seven, I grew up listening to David Bowie tracks.  There was a bit of The Sex Pistols thrown into the mix, but Mr Bowie was king.  

My long haired brother strutted about in way too skinny jeans, emulating his hero – much to my dad’s frustration.  He had an Aladdin Sane poster on his bedroom wall and it fascinated me.  

Bold, brave and a genius songwriter, his instantly recognisable gravelly voice pulled me in, and didn’t let go…

RIP Mr Bowie.

You truly were a class act.