MARC

Granada TV programme, US, 45min

Recorded 9 September 1977

Broadcast 28 September 1977

Bowie appears on Marc - Bolan's television show, singing a live version of his forthcoming single Heroes and ending with a jam between Bowie and Bolan, a song written just before the recording called Standing Next To You.

It ended in chaos when Bolan accidentally slipped off the stage and fell about laughing. As the recording was already running over time, the unfinished version was the one broadcast. This was Bolan's last TV show before his death. The recording was reported by Chris Welch in Melody Maker:

[thanks to Ann-Sofie Andersson for transcribing this]

Bowie and Bolan Get It On

Chris Welch reports from Manchester on David Bowie's appearance on Marc Bolan's television show

"Oh that's really Polaroid! You've gotta keep the ending!"

David Bowie rocked with laughter and Marc Bolan wiped away the tears that had threatened to turn his finest hour into a nightmare. The great day when David and Marc were reunited for a TV show will pass into the history books as one of the funniest episodes never filmed.

Perhaps one should say never videotaped for the last show in the series Marc put together by Granada TV turned out to be a drama of such pathos and uproar that it made Coronation Street seem dull, if that's at all possible.

There were tears, outbursts of swearing, bitter rows and the breaking of light bulbs when everything seemed to go wrong when David joined his old chum for rehearsals and recording at Granada's Manchester studios last Wednesday.

The clash between old wave and new wave was further heightened by the power of trade unions and the congenital inability of rock people to get it together in anything lik a normal, orderly fashion. It was ten breaks and split-second timing versus artistic temperament and inexperience.

I thought it funny but I'm sure producer Muriel Young didn't, nor did the manager of Generation X who turned up three hours late without any equipment, nor Barrie Masters and his famous Rods who never got to appear on the show after waiting around for two days.

In the event, by the miracle of editing and technical wizardry, the show will go out complete with the Rods, and David making a rare British television appearance on all ITV regions on Wednesday, September 28 at 4:20 pm. But it would have been more exciting if they had videoed the dramas taking place in and around the studio.

Marc was in his element as a television star and part-time artistic director. As one studio boss was forced to ejaculate when Marc was bellowing instructions: "I don't know why I'm the floor manager" Said Marc: "When you've got your name up in lights, you've gotta take responsibilities".

The show was born out of Marc's dream to be a media man, dating back to when he once did some interviews for London television. Here he could invite his favourite guest artists, do a bit of chat and generally camp it up in time-honoured Bolan fashion.

As a cross between Judy Garland and Louis B. Mayer he was brilliant. But one of the lads in the heavy rock combos booked for the show stopped me dead in the gents by demanding: "Is he queer?" "Nah, course not. Straight as a die, our old Marc" I protested.

A few minutes later Marc sailed past us in the corridor calling out coyly: "What shall I wear? I know, the green dress with black suspenders." In fact he turned up wearing a leopard-skin creation that even a leopard might have baulked at.

The whole day was worthy of being turned into one of those probing documentaries where people bare their souls and the holes in their socks before cameras so discreet that nobody seems aware of their presence.

It was just like the World About Us. The cast of characters included Marc's PR Keith Altham, recently recovered from a nervous collapse that he threatened would be brought on again if Barbara De Witt said another word: Barbara De Witt, David's American PR lady who wanted to know what Keith Altham was doing bringing so many press in her artist's wake; Bob Hart of The Sun, anxious to see Keith Altham, buying him a drink ("You're the only publicist I can't afford to have lunch with"), Jeff Dexter, Sixties hippie deejay, and now partner with Tony Gourvish in Marc's management, the said Mr Gourvish resplendent in genuine 1968 teddy boy jacket, and Eric Hall, the man from EMI.

The whole party descended by train upon Manchester and spent the day being hustled out of the studio by David's bodyguard, a charmingly polite gentleman who kept appearing in front of us saying: "You'll have to leave – now". I half-expected to meet him at the front gate when I got home that night, holding up both hands to bar any further progress.

The main targets of his life's work (sending people in the opposite direction from whence they came) were Marc Bolan's manager, his press officer, and various friends hoping to see David after his absence from the scene for many years.

"Ain't it strange what some people will do" was the rather apt song being danced to by Heart Throb, the show's troupe of girl dancers who had chosen to wear plastic see-through bowler-hats for their routine.

On came the Rods – Barrie Masters in jeans and shirt – miming to their backing track on Do Anything That You Wanna Do. "It's a bit Micky Mouse, this show," he said as he came off the rostrum, indicating that he and the boys had been hanging around in the studio all day waiting to do their bit.

Generation X arrived red of hair and pink of cheeks, somewhat breathless from a disastrous day spent on the M1. A broken-down van, no equipment available – the bad news experienced by many a group.

But it didn't stop them adopting the aggressive attitude expected of a new wave combo. As offers were being made to lend them equipment they discussed jokingly, whether or not to smash up Marc's guitar, "What will it cost us – 400 quid?"

Eventually guitars were lent, including Rod Paul Gray's bass (he told me that if the X-men smashed up his bass guitar, he would smash them up).

Miraculously, amplifiers and instruments were procured and Generation X stormed into their big number Your Generation and Billy Idol their pretty lead singer looking aggressively angelic. In fact they played so well I found myself clapping their performance, lone applause that must have sounded almost insulting in the silence of the studio as the echoes died rapidly away.

But Generation X discomfort was not over. They had to play a number at least five more times, constantly being stopped by the technicians, something all musicians detest.

Marc had to keep repeating the same introduction "This is Generation X. They have a new singer Billy Idol who is supposed to be as pretty as me. I ain't so sure. Check it out." Eventually he stumbled over the words by the sixth attempt. "Me brain weren't connected to me leg," he explained with a grin.

Meanwhile more rows were breaking out between Generation X's manager and producer Muriel. As Stewart bellowed abuse across the studio floor, Muriel, a very ladylike professional, simply walked away.

"It's appalling," said Stewart "Now they are only going to show half the song or pull it out. We'll do Top of The Pops instead. Let's go!" He made a move for the exits, but the band stayed on and later Granada confirmed that X would be in the show.

While the September 28 show was still being recorded the day's edition was going out featuring Marc singing Let's Dance the old Chris Montez hit which sounded pretty good given the Bolan treatment as well as his new single Celebrate Summer.