Bowie David - At the birth of Bowie: life with the man who became a legend

BY
DENIS TAYLOR

W hen we met him for the first time, David Robert Jones was a fresh-faced lad, just turned eighteen, from a small terraced home in Plaistow Grove in Bromley, Kent.

In early May 1965, we The Lower Third were holding auditions at a club called La Discotheque in Wardour Street, in the West End of London, where we had a residency. Many musicians and singers turned up that day, but more for a jam session than for an audition, I think.

Among the gathered assortment of musicians were a couple of sax players and another drummer (which we didnt need at that time or even advertise for). In among all these people there were also singers (which we did advertise for) including Steve Marriott, later of Small Faces fame but at that time in a band called Marriotts Moments. He sang with us that afternoon, with others joining in, on an old rock-and-roll standard called Rip It Up.

As the afternoon drifted on and people meandered away, among those who stayed was David, who had also brought along his alto sax and had apparently started out at the audition just playing that. He had probably been hanging around in the background, checking out the competition first, as you do. In fact, I hadnt noticed him at all until he asked to sing (he was still wearing the leather collar and clip he attached to his sax). We let him, of course, but partly because we were getting desperate by this time. Suffice to say that we were all impressed, not only with the range of his voice but also with his distinctive look. Shortly after, and following a bit of thought and discussion, we unanimously decided that This is the guy. In retrospect, I think we chose rather well!

Anyhow, a couple of days later we formally asked him to join us. I thought he was a good singer, but I have to admit I didnt think he would last the distance in the world of professional music. I wasnt sure if he was strong enough. But I thought we would be OK with him.

I was a lot older than he was, so I already knew what was in store for him. It wasnt going to be a bed of roses. All this, of course, before I knew he was already a minor star, or certainly known, due to his very long, blondish hair and appearance in a BBC2 TV interview.

A man with long hair in those days just wasnt the thing. Its difficult to imagine today, but it really was shocking and even upset many people back then. It certainly got him noticed, though.

He was new to songwriting at that time, so would experiment with ways to write songs. I remember strange times when he was at our flat in Pimlico, London (which certainly wasnt a posh area of town in 1965), and he would ask me to come into the bedroom with my guitar. We would sit on the bed and he would say, Just place your fingers anywhere on the fret and hit the strings. So I would, and from that he would attempt to come up with a new song on his twelve-string, just from the random sounds it made. This didnt always work out and more often we would just laugh a lot and create daft songs from the noise (as noise is all I can call it) that we made. This gave us a lot to chuckle about and possibly led to a few ideas for David to develop further. We had some great moments, all the same, but I dont know what the others must have been thinking in the other room, hearing the racket we made.

David and I used to go to Denmark Street almost daily. Next door to La Gioconda our favourite caf was a small demo studio that producer Shel Talmy had allowed David to use at any time. So we were often dragged in there with no idea of what David was going to play on his acoustic after our impromptu noise jams. The ideas seemed to change a bit by the time we got there. He must have been thinking about it during the journey to the studio. It was always interesting and I never knew what he would finally come up with. It was a nice little set-up where David and the rest of us could experiment with and listen back to the results. If the session worked, we might take away some demo discs.

About a month after David joined us, our drummer, Les, decided he was homesick and really missed his girlfriend in Ramsgate. David said it was no problem, he would find us another drummer straight away. He certainly did, and what a drummer! That was Phil Lancaster, who just happens to be the author of this book. What are the chances of that!

When Phil joined us, for some reason I was under the impression that he had previously been in a large Mexicano-type band, or something like that. I havent a clue why I thought that or why that stayed with me!

There is no need for me to tell you any more, as Phil has a far better memory of these events than me.

From here on, he will tell you how it all went for us the highs and the lows, and some of the bits in between. Its a great read.

Over to you, my friend

Denis T-cup Taylor
Lead Guitarist The Lower Third