'Blackstar,' David Bowie's Final Masterpiece & Swan Song

Every man has a black star
A black star over his shoulder
And when a man sees his black star
He knows his time, his time has come

- Elvis Presley, "Black Star"

Most people have a personal connection with David Bowie. Writing about him is extremely difficult for a number of reasons: In the wake of his unexpected passing, feelings toward the pop and rock legend have grown stronger as Bowie means something different to a number of fans. He's one of the rare musicians who transcended genres and decades, leaving a lasting impression for those who grew up in the 60s, 70s and 80s. For kids who weren't alive when Bowie was a dominant force on pop culture, he left behind an extensive catalog of music, allowing them to explore his music and create their own memories during the 90s and 00s.

For some, Bowie importance expanded outside of his music: Through his alien and androgynous fashion, he made it acceptable to be different and to be open about sexuality. For some music fans, he helped accept others' sexuality.

Whatever Bowie means to you personally, there's one thing everyone can agree on: Music feels less vital in the shadow of his death. That's especially true after listening to his 27th and final album, "Blackstar."

I had the best listening experience with "Blackstar" the day before Bowie passed away. I listened to the record back-to-back while driving on the highway in torrential downpours. With it's acid jazz influence and drum 'n' bass tinges, "Blackstar" was the perfect, and wild soundtrack to blast while trying not to die in the middle of a rainstorm. To fully unpack "Blackstar" would take a number of listens: The first two times, I let the record wash over me, taking in its spastic soundscape and Bowie's, deep and malleable vocals. I did not pay close attention to lyrics, however.

After it was announced Bowie died on Monday, after an 18-month battle with cancer, "Blackstar" took on a whole different meaning. It became very clear Bowie was trying to tell us something with what ended up being his final masterpiece. Between the creepy music videos for the title track and his single "Lazarus," which also is the name of his Off-Broadway musical, the lyrics in his new songs and the overall theme of "Blackstar," Bowie was preparing his fans for his departure.

Always having control over his image, Bowie was a genius for carrying out what may be the most "perfect" deaths for any artist in history. The musician's longtime producer and collaborator Tony Visconti, who helped produce "Blackstar," took to Facebook after the announcement of Bowie's passing hit the world. He explained the record, which came out on Jan. 8 (Bowie's 69th birthday) and that Bowie intended it to be his final album for his fans.

"He always did what he wanted to do. And he wanted to do it his way and he wanted to do it the best way," he wrote. "His death was no different from his life -- a work of Art. He made 'Blackstar' for us, his parting gift. I knew for a year this was the way it would be. I wasn't, however, prepared for it. He was an extraordinary man, full of love and life. He will always be with us. For now, it is appropriate to cry."

"Blackstar" sounds bigger than it did last week. It feels more emotional. When Bowie sings on the somber "Lazarus," one cannot stop thinking about his death, and how he was trying to get a secret message to his fans: "Look up here, I'm in heaven I've got scars that can't be seen," he sings, referring to his cancer, while wailing sax blasting and a sad guitar strum echoing. In the music video, Bowie sings from a hospital bed, with bandages around his eyes.

"Blackstar" is a daring and challenging record that finds Bowie pushing the envelope in terms of sound in the last stage of his career. On "'Tis a Pity She Was a Whore," a re-working of a song he released in 2014, Bowie includes a drum 'n' bass backdrop over dizzying sax that sound like Beck's 90s jam "The New Pollution" on LSD.

But the LP's true crown jewel is the closing cut, "I Can't Give Everything Away," the most breathtaking track on "Blackstar." It's a melancholy song with electric drums, what sounds like a wallowing harmonica, and some devastating lyrics: "I know something is very wrong / The pulse returns for prodigal sons...I can't give everything away," he chants while an insane saxophone solo blares.

"I Can't Give Everything Away" is the perfect note on which to end the record. The lyric/song title has two meanings: Bowie is reflecting on his rich life and career, acknowledging he's created so much brilliant art over the last five decades; it's an embarrassment of riches. On the flip side, Bowie, who has been an extremely private individual, is telling us, that even in his final moments on earth, he cannot share everything about himself with his fans.

Bowie will undoubtedly go down as one of the most important figures in pop culture. He changed music forever: Without Bowie there would be no The Killers, no Madonna, no Lady Gaga, no Beck, no alternative scene. There would be no punk scene, no Joy Division, no New Order, no Talking Heads, no Boy George, no glam rock scene. Bowie was not only a gateway for musicians, allowing them to be as "weird" as they want but he was also a bridge.

Bowie had the magic ear that allowed him to incorporate and blend genres of music seamlessly. He combined pop music and rock in the 70s, welcomed black Philly soul artists in the 80s during his new-wave-dance phase, worked with Nine Inch Nails in the 90s, and even up until the end, Bowie was a genius, closing his career with "Blackstar," a brilliant mix of experimental jazz, pop and rock.