‘Calling out around the world, are you ready for a brand new beat?’
It was 1985, and I found myself in a surreal spot – Westside Studios in Holland Park. There I was, in the engineer’s chair behind a massive SSL mixing desk, and just ten feet away, Mick Jagger was belting out that iconic line from Martha Reeves and The Vandellas’ Motown classic, ‘Dancing In The Street’. It was only a year and a day since I’d landed my dream job at a real recording studio, a colossal upgrade from my makeshift setup in my dad’s cowshed back in Hampshire. Luck was definitely on my side. And the buzz in the air? David Bowie was up next to sing!
The day had started unusually early, 9 am, at David Bowie’s request – not exactly rock and roll hours. We’d already laid down the killer backing track for ‘Absolute Beginners’, the title song for the movie of the same name (starring Bowie himself). ‘Absolute Beginners’ was shaping up to be a seriously productive and successful track. My bosses, producers Clive Langer and Alan Winstanley (known for their work with Madness, Dexys Midnight Runners, Elvis Costello, and Lloyd Cole And The Commotions, among others), were overseeing the soundtrack for the ‘Absolute Beginners’ film, and Bowie had been a regular presence at Westside Studios for some time.
Around midday, the first whisperings began – Mick Jagger might be heading to the studio. The rumour mill suggested it was “to do something with Bowie for Live Aid.” Then, at about 1 pm, a percussionist arrived, confirming the buzz: “I’m here for the Bowie/Jagger session.” “What?!” I thought. I’d imagined Jagger’s visit would be a quick promo recording with Bowie, something for the radio – “Hi, I’m David Bowie,” “Hi, I’m Mick Jagger,” “Please donate to Live Aid!” The idea of recording a whole new track hadn’t even crossed my mind. Bowie, meanwhile, remained tight-lipped, though I figured he must have briefed Clive and Alan beforehand, probably asking them to keep it under wraps. Shortly after, two backing singers arrived, also announcing, “We’re here for the Bowie, Jagger session!” The excitement was definitely building.
Around 5 or 6 pm, Bowie finally dropped the news. We were pausing work on ‘Absolute Beginners’. “Mick Jagger’s coming down in about an hour, and we’re recording a song for Live Aid,” he announced. He pulled out a cassette, handed it to one of the band members, and said, “Here you go, lads, learn this.” The cassette label read: ‘Dancing In The Streets’.
The band, a stellar lineup featuring Neil Conti on drums, the late, great Matthew Seligman on bass, Kevin Armstrong on guitar, and Steve Nieve on piano, immediately headed into the live room. Cassette player in hand, they huddled together, listening intently, figuring out their parts. I remember Neil Conti taking charge, confidently steering the group, ensuring everyone was focused and ready.
Suddenly, the studio started to fill up. Producers from the ‘Absolute Beginners’ film and other movie types, who hadn’t shown much interest in the music-making process before, suddenly appeared. Word had clearly spread about Jagger’s arrival. Their sudden enthusiasm was a stark contrast to their absence during the weeks we’d been working on the soundtrack.
By the time Jagger arrived, I counted thirteen people crammed into the back of the control room, some even with kids in tow. I wondered if Jagger would be fazed by the crowd, but he walked in, perhaps momentarily surprised, then immediately got down to business. He’d brought his daughter Jade along with him.
It quickly became obvious that music was hardwired into Mick’s very being. As the band ran through sections of the song, stopping and starting to discuss arrangements, Mick couldn’t keep still. Even mid-conversation, if the music started, he’d be dancing – all while still talking! He seemed genuinely thrilled to be there, and his energy was infectious. I remember thinking, “I want to be Mick Jagger’s mate!”
Before long, the band was tight, and Mick, David, and the two backing singers, Tessa Niles and Helena Springs, were ushered into the vocal booth, separating them from the band.
They launched into the first take. The extended drum intro sounded a little unusual at first. Bowie must have instructed the band to create a specific number of drum bars before the song properly kicked in. In this first take, neither Mick nor David sang during this extended intro – perhaps they were still figuring out vocal duties.
Hearing the whole band and singers performing live together was incredible. It was a relatively rare approach, especially in the 80s, when recording was becoming increasingly clinical and compartmentalized. They nailed two fantastic takes and came back into the control room to listen. After hearing both, everyone agreed the first take had a certain raw energy and ‘vibe’.
The decision was made to re-record the vocals. Not because they were lacking in performance, but because recording everyone together in one room meant vocal bleed onto other microphones, which would complicate the mixing process. Of course, back in the 60s and earlier, that’s exactly how records were made! The backing singers went first, laying down their parts quickly and flawlessly.
Then it was Mick’s turn. Mick, true to form, performed as if he were commanding a packed Madison Square Garden. Witnessing this legend up close was electrifying. Alan Winstanley tasked me with recording the vocals, placing me directly in Jagger’s eyeline! Talk about pressure!
Mick delivered two blistering takes. The live room was dimly lit, and he’d occasionally disappear from view between lines as he strutted and moved around the space, only to reappear just in time to nail the next line. There was no need to ask Mick for more ‘feeling’; he was all in, full throttle.
We listened back to both takes, knowing they were both phenomenal. However, Clive Langer, perhaps emboldened by a couple of glasses of white wine to steady his nerves in the presence of these musical titans, slurred slightly, “I think there was one word on the second take that was a bit better than the first.” All eyes turned to Clive, then back to Mick, who responded with something like, “Oh yeah? Let’s have a listen.” I can’t actually recall if a word was indeed lifted from Mick’s second take, but Clive, looking like a mischievous schoolboy who’d spoken out of turn, gave me a knowing glance that suggested he probably should have kept his thoughts to himself.
Finally, with limited time remaining before Mick and David were due to be whisked off to London’s docklands for a video shoot, it was David’s vocal turn.
David was a completely different artist to Jagger. His approach to recording lead vocals was a revelation. He would sing along brilliantly and enthusiastically with the band during the live backing track sessions, and honestly, any of those takes could have been the final vocal. He never delivered a phoned-in performance; his vocals were consistently outstanding. However, when it came to recording the ‘official’ lead vocals, he preferred to record line by line, stopping and listening back after each one before moving on. I could understand this meticulous approach if someone was a less confident singer, but David’s vocals were consistently incredible. He would often reference a demo version of the song, checking lines before recording the new take.
At one point, near the end of the song, I had to execute a very precise punch-in and punch-out of record because David wanted to re-record a specific line. I had to make sure I dropped out of record just before the line following the one he was redoing. There was very little margin for error – and remember, this was back in the days of analog tape machines. No ‘undo’ button existed! I nailed it, though! And just like that, the vocals were done.
Now, it was time to create a rough mix for the sound engineer on the video set, who would play back the track for Mick and David during filming. Being a diligent engineer, I put two cassette players into record – standard practice for me at any session. I thought Mick and David might want to listen to the mix on their way to the film set. Towards the end of the song, David’s manager, Coco, spotted a cassette player recording and snapped, “Are you recording a cassette?!” “Yes,” I replied, “I thought you might need one.” She didn’t mention the second cassette player. “I’ll take that, please,” Coco said curtly. I handed her one cassette. Then, when she wasn’t looking, I quickly grabbed the other one and slipped it out of sight under the mixing desk. And that’s how I happen to have a copy of that first rough mix!
David generously invited everyone present to join them at the video shoot. I was tempted, but exhaustion, mostly from nervous energy after such an intense day, won out. Plus, I desperately needed a shower – I’d worked up quite a sweat recording those vocals!
After the video shoot, Mick took the tapes to New York, where brass instruments were added, and apparently, another bass player added some parts. Somewhere along the line, prog rock keyboardist Rick Wakeman also contributed some additional piano. The song was then mixed by the legendary Bob Clearmountain. I was, to say the least, incredibly proud to see my name in the engineer credits on the record sleeve.
