A decade after the world lost David Bowie, the enigmatic artist’s final years continue to fascinate fans and music historians alike. New revelations, published in an excerpt by The Telegraph, shed light on how Bowie turned his own death into a meticulously crafted artistic act, maintaining absolute secrecy about his illness until the very end. Meanwhile, his influence continues to ripple through the music world, inspiring both adulation and critique, as seen in the recent remarks by Stewart Copeland of The Police. At the same time, Bowie’s collaborations, notably with composer Trevor Jones, highlight the enduring cross-pollination between rock icons and film composers that shaped the soundscape of the late 20th century.
For nearly three years before his death on January 10, 2016, David Bowie kept his battle with liver cancer hidden from almost everyone, including many of his closest collaborators. According to The Telegraph, Bowie exercised an ironclad control over his public image, refusing to let his illness define his legacy. This carefully maintained silence was not just a matter of privacy, but a deliberate act of artistry—one that allowed him to shape his own narrative right up to his final breath.
One of the most poignant moments from Bowie’s final years occurred in the early hours of July 7, 2013, when he visited the groundbreaking David Bowie Is exhibition at London’s Victoria and Albert Museum. The event, which would go on to break attendance records, opened without its subject present. Yet months later, Bowie slipped in quietly with his wife Iman, daughter Lexi, and longtime assistant Coco Schwab. Guided by curator Victoria Broackes, Bowie spent an hour and a half moving through the galleries, absorbing the artifacts of his own life—iconic costumes, handwritten lyrics, and personal objects that charted his journey from glam god to global icon. "He was deeply moved," Broackes later recalled, as reported by The Telegraph.
The exhibition not only celebrated Bowie’s triumphs but also confronted the darker chapters of his past. Among the displays was a cocaine spoon from his mid-1970s period of heavy addiction, a stark reminder that even legends are not immune to personal demons. Another notable artifact was a brief but heartfelt note from Elvis Presley, Bowie’s so-called “birth twin”—the two shared a birthday on January 8, a fact Bowie often mentioned with a mixture of humor and reverence. Presley’s note served as a symbolic bridge between two titans of popular music, each having reshaped the cultural landscape in their own era.
Bowie’s visit to the museum was just one part of a secretive trip to London in the summer of 2013. "No one knew we were there," Iman later revealed in an interview. The family flew into Luton, spent days exploring the city—including a ride on the London Eye—and even visited Brixton, Bowie’s childhood neighborhood. There, Bowie was photographed outside his old home with his daughter, a silent farewell to his roots. As The Telegraph notes, these carefully orchestrated moments were Bowie’s way of saying goodbye, not just to a city but to a life lived in the public eye.
Officially, Bowie was diagnosed with liver cancer in the summer of 2014 and likely learned his illness was terminal by November 2015. Yet, those closest to him suggest he may have understood the gravity of his situation even earlier. What is certain is that the final years of his life were marked by a creative renaissance. Between 2013 and 2016, Bowie released The Next Day and, on his 69th birthday, Blackstar—an album that would become his swan song. He did not attend the 2014 Brit Awards in person; instead, supermodel Kate Moss, dressed as Ziggy Stardust, accepted the award on his behalf. Bowie used the occasion to make a rare political intervention, urging, "Scotland, stay with us," during the heated Scottish independence debate.
In addition to his musical output, Bowie spent the last year and a half of his life working on Lazarus, a musical based on The Man Who Fell to Earth. Collaborating with playwright Enda Walsh, Bowie poured his existential anxieties into the project, crafting what many have described as an artistic confession. Despite his failing health, those involved in Lazarus and the recording of Blackstar were struck by his vitality. Producer Tony Visconti remembered, "When he stood at the microphone, he sang as if he were more alive than ever," according to The Telegraph. Yet, as director Ivo van Hove observed, "If you knew what you were looking at, you could see a man with a broken heart—afraid of the end and of the family he would leave behind."
Bowie’s death came just two days after the release of Blackstar, denying him the chance to witness the album’s global acclaim. But perhaps, as many have speculated, he had already achieved his true aim: transforming his passing into a final, defiant act of art. As The Telegraph put it, Bowie was “a work of art until his final breath.”
Bowie’s influence reaches far beyond his own discography, extending into the world of film and beyond. One of his most notable collaborators was Trevor Alfred Charles Jones, a South African-born composer known for his work on fantasy soundtracks in the late 20th century. Jones, who grew up in poverty after his family was relocated by apartheid policies, attended the South African College of Music at age ten and later studied at the Royal Academy of Music in London. His big break came when he composed the Oscar-winning score for The Dollar Bottom and later worked on films such as Excalibur (1981), The Dark Crystal, and Labyrinth (1986)—the latter featuring vocal tracks written and performed by Bowie himself, as reported by Newsday.
Jones’s career evolved over the years, incorporating more electronic and minimal elements in the late 1980s, as heard in Mississippi Burning (1988) and Sea of Love (1989). He remains best known for his lush orchestral score for The Last of the Mohicans (1992). In addition to his film work, Jones has composed for television, lectured at prestigious institutions, and founded a scholarship for South African students. His collaborations with artists like Sting, U2, and Sinead O’Connor underscore the interconnectedness of the music world that Bowie so often traversed.
Yet, even in death, Bowie’s legacy continues to spark debate. In a 2025 interview with The Guardian, Stewart Copeland, the legendary drummer of The Police, called Bowie’s music "overrated." Copeland, now 73, was quick to clarify: "I recognize the great mark that Bowie left on the world. He was innovative in 10 different ways, an inspiration for a generation. His credentials as one of the most important artists of our time cannot be questioned. However, it didn’t work for me. I never wanted to look like that, I never wanted to sound like that, I didn’t get it. I was into Jimi Hendrix." Copeland’s candor is a reminder that even the most celebrated figures are not immune to criticism, and that artistic influence is as much about personal resonance as it is about cultural impact.
Copeland himself has enjoyed a storied career, from founding The Police in 1977 to composing music for films and video games, including the iconic Spyro the Dragon series. In 2025, he released Wild Concerto, an album blending sounds from nature with traditional instruments. In the same interview, he praised Bad Company’s Simon Kirke as an underrated drummer, underscoring the diversity of tastes and influences that continue to shape the world of music.
In the end, Bowie’s legacy is not defined by universal acclaim or unanimous understanding. Instead, it is the sum of his relentless innovation, his fearless self-reinvention, and his refusal to let the world dictate the terms of his farewell. Whether idolized, critiqued, or quietly mourned, David Bowie remains—ten years on—an artist whose final act was as unforgettable as his first.
