David Bowie foretold his own imminent death in what would be the last song he released in his lifetime, Lazarus. Two days later he was dead at 69.

Nine years ago today, two days after his 69th birthday, we lost David Bowie, the musician who soundtracked my life more than any other for more than 40 years.

It was my birthday.

I still remember the shock, though we can’t say we didn’t know it was coming because he told us. “Look up here, I’m in heaven,” he sang at the beginning of Lazarus, released barely three weeks earlier. “I’ve got scars that can’t be seen.”

The video is spellbinding, and heartbreaking, and yet somehow uplifting, as Bowie lies dying, foretelling his imminent departure, and reflects on his achievements – “I’ve got drama can’t be stolen, Everybody knows me know.”

I was privileged to know him a little. They say “Never meet your heroes” but I met him maybe half a dozen times in the line of duty, and had two or three long sit-down interviews with him, and what struck me most was his fascination with other people’s ideas and opinions. It’s what made his music so eclectic.

So many “celebrities” think the world revolves around themselves and have no interest in anyone else’s opinions, least of all in a fleeting encounter with a journalist, but he was genuinely interested in dialgoue; when the formal interviews were over he loved nothing more than to exchange thoughts on new music, art, cities, fashion, architecture, whatever.

It’s especially sad that he was taken at a time when he clearly had so much more to give, judging by the quality of his final two albums The Next Day and Blackstar and As he dances around his own deathbed, he offers hope for the next life, whatever that may be: “I’ll be free just like that bluebird, Now ain’t that just like me?”