Chris Duffy - Aladdin Sane 50: The definitive celebration of Bowie’s iconic album and music’s most famous photograph – with unseen images

ALADDIN SANE

ALADDIn

SANE

CHRIS DUFFY

The definitive celebration of Bowies iconic album and musics most famous photograph with unseen images.

THE MONA LISA OF POP

CHRIS DUFFY

INTRODUCTION

Chris DUffy

January started like any other Sunday morning at home. My father, Duffy, had a ritual of playing records at full volume through his Rogers Valve amp and a pair of 12-inch Wharfedale speakers with tweeters, which had been built into the white melamine cabinets that dominated two corners of the living room.

The usual suspects were jazz heroes, Cannonball Adderley, Colman Hawkins, Charlie Mingus, Bix Beiderbecke the list was endless, but occasionally he threw a curveball into the mix. Its always a bit disconcerting for a teenager when their music is listened to and enjoyed by their parent. As a rule every generation rebels against the status quo and parental boundaries and I was no exception. However, record companies regularly sent Duffy records of bands or artists they wanted him to shoot, so it wasnt unusual to hear a catholic mix of tonic scales.

As I came down the stairs and the music became louder, I became transfixed by what I was hearing. The spontaneity and immediacy of the music was intoxicating; I stood on the landing for a while to absorb the energy of the sounds. As the track finished, I entered the living room and asked my dad: Who was that you were playing?

He replied: Its a guy called David Bowie, do you like it? Yes, definitely. Whats the album called? Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. Can I borrow it? Yes, but dont scratch it. In fact, Im shooting his next album cover. Do you want to meet him?

My interest in music started around 1965 when I was years old. At the time, I would travel back to see my grandparents in the East End of London, where I was raised until the age of five. My parents couldnt afford to live together, so I lived with my mum in East Ham, at my grandparents house. On one of my weekend visits, my Uncle David introduced me to the Beatles, specifically the Rubber Soul album, which I played endlessly on his prized Garrard SP25 record deck.

Amazingly, just a year later, I met the Beatles at my dads studio. Duffy had become good friends with Lennon and the group had dropped by to see him.

I became a lifelong Beatles fan, but as the mood of the 1960s evolved so did my taste in music. Prog and heavy rock became my new interest and I threw myself into listening to the likes of Deep Purple, Yes, Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix. The 1960s were evolving into the 1970s. I grew my hair long and all we talked about at school was bands and music. Sounds , Melody Maker and New Musical Express were our bibles. There were a couple of bands formed in our year and I was desperate to join one of them. My Uncle Pete had given

SUNDAY

INTRODUCTION

CHRIS DUFFY

PREVIOUS PAGE The studio where the Aladdin Sane session took place. On the right is the mobile dressing room, where the lightning bolt flash was applied to Davids face.

INTRODUCTION

me his old Watkins Rapier electric guitar, but I soon abandoned it because I had no amplification and instead settled for a 12-string Eko guitar which I managed to save up for. I studiously learnt Bob Dylan and Woody Guthrie songs from songbooks I had purchased from Macaris in the Charing Cross Road, which had simple chord structures and the additional benefit of being able to sing along to even if you werent vocally gifted.

But the sounds emanating from the Wharfedale speakers on that Sunday morning in January 1973 were different, very different. I needed to know more. So did I want to meet him ?

On the evening of Tuesday, January, I rocked up to Trident Studios in St Annes Court, Soho, London. The studio was situated in a pedestrian walkway that connected Dean Street to Wardour Street, only a minute away from the legendary Marquee music venue where David would play in October that year. I would also play there two years later in the band I ended up in, called Bazooka Joe.

The front facade of Trident was glass so you could see in, but all that was visible was essentially a reception desk. I rang the bell and a studio runner behind the desk let me in. Ive come to see Duffy, I said, Theyre in there, he said, pointing to the door on the right of the desk. I knocked on the door and almost immediately it opened. There he was, David Bowie, the man who had magnetically drawn me to this special moment in time. He looked me up and down and said: Who are you? Im Chris, Duffys son, I replied. Duffys son? he said in a kind of questioning manner as if he had never considered that Duffy had any children. He paused a second while evaluating me then said: Your father is a lunatic. Come in, come in.