David Bowie: Stardust Memories

By 1980, a new cult of fashion-crazed kids – the New Romantics – had sprouted up in London. Bowie walked among them (they were his stylistic children, in many ways) and came back with Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps), an album that, unfortunately, yielded no major hits. Was he running out of steam? Bowie answered that question with an emphatic no in 1983, when he dropped all his guises and went dance pop with Let’s Dance, the biggest-selling album of his career.

Bowie was married for nearly ten years to Angela Barnet, an Anglo-American woman with whom he had a son, Zowie (now called Joe). Their union, hardly strengthened by David’s dalliance with such girlfriends as black singer Ava Cherry, dissolved in divorce in 1980. Today, David lives with Coco and Joe – who’ll be sixteen in May – in a house in Switzerland, not far from the jet-set resort of Gstaad, where Bowie frequently skis. He also works out and roller-skates in his spare time – of which there’s never much: he remains a workaholic. Despite his now-moneyed seclusion, he remains an artist with one ear – and one shrewd fashion eye – ever cocked toward the street, ever alert for the latest innovations. At last glance, however, no likely usurpers had appeared to challenge Bowie’s position as the king of rock style.

First of all, a belated happy birthday.
Thank you!

Has turning forty made you reflective?
No, not at all. Now I feel I can do and say what I want [laughs].

Were you aware of style as a kid?
Yes, I liked how things went together, and it interested me how it all worked. But I think I was always drawn to the crass [chuckles], so that saved my ass, really: I was never very hot on sophisticated taste when it got too sophisticated. I didn’t mind a sense of elegance and style, but I liked it when things were a bit off – a bit sort of fish-and-chips shop.

Were you aware of the Teds when they appeared?
Yeah. There was a bloke who lived down the road from us who was a Ted – Eric, I think his name was. He had brilliant, curly ginger hair and razor blades in his collar – for purposes of not being molested, I guess, by other Teds. That I found very impressive. But he was slightly potty – he would just stand on the corner for hours, swinging a chain manically.

Were you ever inclined toward Teddishness yourself?
Yeah, a lot of kids my age got into those things. But I didn’t really like the Teddy clothes too much. I liked Italian stuff. I was really early into Italian stuff. I liked the box jackets and the mohair. You could get some of that locally in Bromley, but not very good. You’d have to go right up to Shepherd’s Bush or the East End. And once I’d left school, you could save a little money and go find a tailor who would make it up really well. There were some good tailors. The one I used to go to was the same one that Marc Bolan used to go to, a fairly well known one in Shepherd’s Bush. I remember I saved up and got one suit made there, but that was really all. The rest of my money I put into equipment and saxophones and things.

There’s a picture of you with the Kon-rads where you have this sort of upswept crew cut. . . .
Oh, yes, yes. I loved the hair-style stuff, yeah.

And the band is wearing, like, little candy-striped ties. . . .
We wore gold corduroy jackets, I remember, and brown mohair trousers and green, brown and white ties, I think, and white shirts. Strange coloration.

Was there a particular rock performer who had really turned you on as a kid? Someone you saw and said, “That’s what I want to do”?
Little Richard. I saw him at Brixton Odeon. It must have been 1963, ’cause the Stones opened for him. I’ll tell you who else was on that bill, as well. Oh, it was wonderful, listen: The Stones opened, then there was Bo Diddley and, if I remember rightly, Duane Eddy, and it closed with Sam Cooke. That was the first half. Then the second half . . . Who else was on that thing? Somebody else unbelievable was on, and then Little Richard. And Little Richard was just unreal. Unreal. Man, we’d never seen anything like that. It was still mohair suits then – I mean, just great suits – baggy trousers and all that. And he was workin’ with a British band called Sounds Incorporated – our only horn band, the only band that knew anything about saxophones. There was one other, Peter Jay and the Jaywalkers, but they weren’t as good. Sounds Incorporated were the one. And I think it was probably Red Price on tenor sax, guy with dark glasses. I used to love all those sax players, ’cause that’s what I wanted to do. And he led Lord Rockingham’s XI, too [laughs]. Remember them? “Hoots, mon, there’s a moose loose about this hoose!” You don’t remember that?
Anyway, that show was unreal. And the Stones were so funny. They had, like, four fans at that time, who rushed down the aisles to the front. These four chicks in the front there – it was so funny. Keith was dynamite, ’cause he did that aeroplane stuff in those days, whizzing round and round – he really made an entrance. And Brian was kind of dominant in the band then; he really was. It’s amazing the progress that Mick’s made, thinking back, because as stage personalities, Mick and Brian were equal. And some bloke – I’ll never forget this – some bloke in the audience looked at Jagger and said, “Get your hair cut!” And Mick said, “What – and look like you?” It was so funny! I went with the Kon-rads, and we just collapsed in our seats.