sun*load: Thin White Horses

10 January 2020

Thin White Horses
…is a ether-laced dream (or was it real?) about David Bowie. It’s the 2nd tune off the darkstars ep by sun*load.
music by: COMET17 (Jeremy Markowitz)
vocals and lyrics: jh0st

Flying to rhythm’s time…
Turning to day to night to day…
Elsewhere to face to face…

Turning from day to night today…
never present in moonlight’s glare
Silver feather let’s trade the light

In waking dreams we meet…
Eyes of the streetlights halo
footsteps penance
In godless times you saw…
Choices in your veins collide

Cat stole your tongue this way down?
Chances with wings already gone?

In godless times you saw…
Ghost of white horse’s dream
what we need
Into grey fog we saw…
Parallel delusions more than
You imagine:

A flash of the real… imaginary
crossing David’s divide
Jones-ing for a day when
a ripple became a wave
To free the body’s mind

Uncork the thin white lie
You know with the Bowie knife…

You said it’s more than you…
Second skin fiction of thought
stopped in time
With the gods pantomime…
Face of the vulgar and the

…Thin white horses
carried away on backs of black doves

Today is the anniversary of David Bowie’s passing. COMET17 (aka the brilliant instrumentalist, Jeremy Markowitz) and I had parallel Bowie stories that inspired us in making this tune off the dark*stars EP. Here my half of the story:

In 1992 I was walking home through 5am fog after an all-nighter of work… Crossing diagonally through Union Square in New York (back then it was just a barren asphalt parking lot), I noticed an approaching figure in the distance dressed in a pitch-black poncho and black fedora hat. If I had been more alert, the apparition would have made more of an impression, but it had been a week of late nights.

With both our heads down in exhaustion, the apparition and I had crossed that empty expanse without once looking up. We met in the middle, suddenly having to contort and twist to keep from knocking into one another. At that moment, I glimpsed the distinct features of David Bowie’s face beneath the wide-brimmed fedora. He immediately saw the shock of recognition in my eyes and flashed a quick smile before continuing through the fog.

I got home, crashed-out, and when I awoke the next afternoon, I replayed the surreal moments in my head: the black-and-white noir-film sequence could have been a dream…

…The next week over beers, my friend mentioned out of the blue, “Did you know Bowie moved downtown with Iman? We have to try to catch him.”

black fedora