I wasn’t the only middle-aged white guy listening to the new David Bowie album on the way to work today. I’m sure there were thousands of us. In fact I kept my eyes firmly fixed on the road ahead this morning; I didn’t want to look left or right and spot some balding slouchard mouthing any words I’d just heard for the first time. Risking aneurysm or whiplash as he drummed feverishly on the padded steering wheel. The dire-ish reality of my own situation—ordinary guy mid-commute—was almost more than I could bear.