“Calling out around the world, are you ready for a brand new beat?” The iconic opening line of Martha Reeves and The Vandellas’ “Dancing In The Street” echoed through Westside Studios in Holland Park in 1985, but this time, it was Mick Jagger’s unmistakable voice belting it out just ten feet away from the mixing desk. For a young recording engineer still fresh from a studio in his dad’s Hampshire cowshed, this was surreal. It was just a year and a day into his dream job at a real recording studio, and now, Mick Jagger was laying down vocals, with David Bowie waiting in the wings to add his magic.
The day had started early at Bowie’s request – 9 am, not exactly rock and roll hours. The studio was buzzing with activity already, having laid down the backing track for “Absolute Beginners,” the title song for Bowie’s upcoming movie of the same name. Producers Clive Langer and Alan Winstanley, known for their work with Madness and Elvis Costello, were steering the ship, crafting the soundtrack for “Absolute Beginners,” and Bowie was a regular presence at Westside Studios. It was already shaping up to be an incredibly productive day.
Around midday, whispers started circulating – Mick Jagger was coming to the studio, something about a collaboration with Bowie for Live Aid. By 1 pm, a percussionist confirmed the rumors, announcing his arrival for the “Bowie/Jagger session.” The engineer had initially envisioned a simple radio spot, a quick “I’m David Bowie, I’m Mick Jagger, donate to Live Aid!” But the arrival of backing singers soon after signaled something much bigger. Bowie remained characteristically enigmatic, keeping the surprise under wraps, likely having already coordinated with Langer and Winstanley. Excitement was building with each new arrival.
As the afternoon progressed, around 5 or 6 pm, Bowie finally dropped the bombshell. They were pausing work on “Absolute Beginners.” “Mick Jagger’s coming down in about an hour, and we are recording a song for Live Aid,” he announced. He then handed a cassette labeled “Dancing In The Streets” to the band, instructing them to learn it. The band, a stellar lineup featuring Neil Conti on drums, the late Matthew Seligman on bass, Kevin Armstrong on guitar, and Steve Nieve on piano, eagerly retreated to the live room to decipher the Motown classic. Neil Conti, taking charge, guided the group in arranging their parts.
Word had spread like wildfire. Suddenly, the studio was teeming with film producers and movie executives from “Absolute Beginners,” who hadn’t shown much interest in the music-making process before. By Jagger’s arrival, the control room was packed with onlookers, including a few children – thirteen people in total. Jagger, accompanied by his daughter Jade, seemed momentarily surprised by the crowd but quickly focused on the task at hand.
It became immediately clear that music was deeply ingrained in Mick Jagger’s being. Even amidst conversations, when the band played sections of the song, he couldn’t resist dancing, moving to the rhythm while still talking. His enthusiasm was infectious. “I want to be Mick Jagger’s mate!” the engineer remembers thinking, captivated by his energy.
Soon, the band was ready. Jagger, Bowie, and backing vocalists Tessa Niles and Helena Springs were positioned in a recording booth, separated from the band. They launched into the first take. The extended drum intro felt unusual at first. Bowie had apparently requested a specific number of drum bars before the song truly kicked in. During this intro, neither Jagger nor Bowie sang, perhaps still figuring out vocal duties.
The energy of the live performance, with the band and singers recording together, was palpable – a rare occurrence in the increasingly clinical recording environment of the 80s. After two takes, the consensus was that the first take had the superior “vibe.”
The decision was made to re-record the vocals, not due to performance issues, but to address microphone bleed from recording everyone in the same room – a mixing challenge, although a common practice in earlier decades of recording. The backing singers quickly and professionally nailed their parts.
Then it was Mick Jagger’s turn. He approached the vocal performance with the dynamism of a stadium show. Witnessing this legendary performer up close was electrifying. Alan Winstanley entrusted the engineer with recording Jagger’s vocals, placing him directly in Jagger’s line of sight.
Jagger delivered two takes with incredible energy. Despite the dim lighting in the live room, and his signature movements that sometimes took him out of view, he always returned to the mic in perfect time for his lines, each delivered with raw passion. No need to ask for “more feeling” from Mick Jagger.
Everyone listened to both takes, acknowledging their brilliance. However, Clive Langer, perhaps emboldened by a few glasses of wine, jokingly suggested that a single word in the second take was slightly better than in the first. All eyes turned to Clive, then to Jagger, who good-naturedly agreed to listen again. Whether a word was actually taken from the second take remains unclear, but Clive, realizing he might have overstepped, gave the engineer a sheepish look.
Finally, it was David Bowie’s turn. With limited time before they had to leave for the video shoot in London’s Docklands, Bowie’s recording style was a stark contrast to Jagger’s. While Bowie sang powerfully and flawlessly during the live backing track recordings – any of those takes could have been lead vocals – his approach to dedicated vocal takes was methodical. He preferred to record line by line, listening back after each before proceeding. This meticulous approach, from an artist of Bowie’s vocal caliber, was initially baffling. He would often refer back to a demo version to refine his lines for the new recording.
During a later section of the song, a precise punch-in and punch-out edit was required. Bowie wanted to re-record a line, demanding flawless timing on the analog tape machine, with no digital “undo” option available. The engineer executed it perfectly. Vocals were complete.
The next step was creating a rough mix for the video shoot playback. Being diligent, the engineer recorded two cassettes, a standard practice on any session, thinking Bowie and Jagger might want to review the mix en route to the set. Towards the song’s end, Bowie’s manager, Coco, noticed the recording cassette deck. “Are you recording a cassette?!” she demanded. “Yes,” the engineer replied, “I thought you might need one.” Coco took one cassette. When she wasn’t looking, the engineer discreetly slipped the other cassette under the mixing desk – a piece of studio history salvaged. This is how a copy of that initial rough mix survived.
Bowie invited everyone to join them at the film set. Exhausted but exhilarated after the intense day, the engineer politely declined, needing a shower more than a video shoot after sweating through the vocal sessions.
Later, Mick Jagger took the tapes to New York, where brass instruments and additional bass parts were added. Prog-rock keyboardist Rick Wakeman also contributed further piano overdubs. The legendary Bob Clearmountain mixed the final track. The engineer was justifiably thrilled to receive an engineering credit on the record sleeve of “Dancing in the Street,” a testament to being in the room when David Bowie and Mick Jagger created music history for Live Aid.
