In the annals of rock history, certain collaborations transcend the ordinary, becoming legendary moments etched in time. One such electrifying instance unfolded in 1985 at Westside Studios in Holland Park, where two titans of music, David Bowie and Mick Jagger, joined forces to record a cover of “Dancing In The Street” for Live Aid. For a young studio engineer, still fresh from a makeshift studio in his father’s cowshed, it was a day of sheer disbelief and exhilarating immersion into the whirlwind of rock royalty.
It was a surprisingly early start for rock stars – 9 am – when the day commenced at Bowie’s behest. The studio was already buzzing with activity, having laid down the backing track for “Absolute Beginners,” the title song of Bowie’s upcoming film. Producers Clive Langer and Alan Winstanley, renowned for their work with Madness and Elvis Costello, were at the helm, steering the soundtrack project. Bowie was a familiar face at Westside Studios, but today, the air crackled with a different kind of anticipation.
The first whispers of Mick Jagger’s arrival began circulating around noon. “Something with Bowie for Live Aid,” someone murmured, igniting a spark of excitement. By 1 pm, a percussionist confirmed the rumors, announcing his presence for the “Bowie/Jagger session.” The engineer, still processing the enormity of the situation, had envisioned a simple radio spot – a plea for donations. The reality of recording an entirely new track was beyond anything he had imagined. Bowie, characteristically enigmatic, remained tight-lipped, leaving the producers to manage the escalating buzz. Adding to the mounting frenzy, backing singers arrived, further solidifying the extraordinary nature of the session.
As the afternoon progressed, around 5 or 6 pm, Bowie finally dropped the bombshell. “Mick Jagger’s coming down in about an hour, and we’re recording a song for Live Aid,” he declared, effectively pausing work on “Absolute Beginners.” With a casual gesture, he produced a cassette labeled “Dancing In The Streets,” instructing the band to learn it.
The assembled musicians – Neil Conti on drums, the late Matthew Seligman on bass, Kevin Armstrong on guitar, and Steve Nieve on piano – swiftly retreated to the live room. Led by the confident Neil Conti, they huddled around the cassette player, dissecting the Motown classic and charting their parts. Meanwhile, word had spread like wildfire. Suddenly, film producers and movie executives, previously absent, materialized, eager to witness the unfolding musical event. The control room swelled with onlookers, reaching a count of thirteen by the time Jagger arrived, daughter Jade in tow. Despite the unexpected crowd, Jagger, initially surprised, quickly transitioned into professional mode.
Jagger’s innate connection to music was immediately apparent. Even amidst conversations, the moment the music played, he was moving, dancing while engaged in discussions. His infectious energy and enthusiasm were captivating. “I want to be Mick Jagger’s mate!” the engineer remembers thinking, struck by his vibrant presence.
Soon, the band was ready, and Bowie, Jagger, and backing vocalists Tessa Niles and Helena Springs took their positions in the vocal booth. The session launched with the distinctive drum intro, extended at Bowie’s request. The first take unfolded, a raw and energetic performance, though the vocals were yet to be fully formed.
The decision was made to re-record the vocals due to sound bleed from the live recording setup, a common practice even in the pre-digital era. The backing singers efficiently laid down their parts, paving the way for Jagger.
Jagger’s vocal performance was nothing short of a stadium spectacle, delivered in the intimate confines of the studio. The engineer, tasked with recording Jagger’s vocals, found himself directly in the line of sight of the legendary frontman. Jagger unleashed two takes, his signature stage presence undiminished, strutting and moving within the vocal booth, yet always returning to the microphone to deliver each line with power and precision. Both takes were undeniably brilliant.
Producer Clive Langer, emboldened by a few glasses of wine, playfully suggested a slight preference for a single word in the second take. While it’s unclear if that word was ultimately used, Langer’s comment highlighted the almost comical pressure of critiquing a legend like Jagger.
Then it was Bowie’s turn. In stark contrast to Jagger’s flamboyant approach, Bowie’s method was meticulous and introspective. He preferred to record line by line, carefully reviewing each take before proceeding. Despite his already stellar live vocal performances, Bowie sought perfection, often referencing a demo version for guidance. The engineer even had to execute a tricky punch-in to re-record a line, a nerve-wracking task on analog tape where mistakes were less forgiving.
With the vocals complete, attention turned to creating a rough mix for the video shoot. Ever the professional, the engineer recorded two cassettes, anticipating the artists might want to review the mix en route. Bowie’s manager, Coco, spotted one cassette and swiftly confiscated it. However, the engineer, resourceful and discreet, managed to slip away with the second cassette, a fortunate act of foresight that preserved an early version of this iconic track.
An invitation to the video shoot followed, but exhaustion, both physical and emotional, prevailed. The engineer opted for a well-deserved shower instead, the adrenaline of the day finally subsiding.
The “Dancing In The Street” saga continued in New York, where brass and additional bass were added. Prog-rock icon Rick Wakeman contributed further piano embellishments. Finally, the legendary Bob Clearmountain mixed the track, culminating in the release of a charity single that would become a global anthem. For the young engineer, the credit on the record sleeve was a badge of honor, a tangible memento of the day David Bowie and Mick Jagger danced into Westside Studios and created a piece of music history.
