They came from Surrey and deepest Devon, one smuggled in by their babysitter; they came from Shepherd’s Bush and Hammersmith, bunking in through the fire exit. Some fans were immortalised on DA Pennebaker’s concert film. All worshipped at the altar of Ziggy.
So when Bowie made his legendary, ambiguous announcement – “Not only is it the last show of the tour, but it’s the last show that we’ll ever do” – his young fans experienced bewilderment and anguish. For some on stage, the reaction was much the same. Fifty years after the gig, and with a new version of Pennebaker’s film in cinemas, we speak to fans, Spiders, Bowie’s friends and future punks about one of rock’n’roll’s most famous shows.
“I did over 600 shows with David, but when you look back you only remember certain ones,” says pianist Mike Garson. “One is Hammersmith. Something happened there that night that impinged on the world. That’s how history is made.”
IF WE CAN SPARKLE, HE MAY LAND TONIGHT: the fans prepare for the show
SHEILA WEYLAND (fan): My mum originally said I couldn’t go to Hammersmith, but my friend Paul’s dad agreed to take us. I’d already seen Bowie at the Royal Festival Hall, the Rainbow, Earls Court and Guildford Civic Hall, where he held my hand and sang “Let’s Spend The Night Together”, which blew my 14-year-old brain.
MARGUERITE RYDER-LARGE (fan): I was panicking I’d be late and didn’t have time to get dressed up. I was rushing from my parent’s house in New Malden. I was 19. I’d seen Bowie at the Rainbow in ’72 and then a rumour went around that this would be his last concert, so I rushed off to get a ticket.
I was eight, and being looked after at home in Devon by my babysitter, who we will call Monica, and her very cool boyfriend Hamish while my parents were abroad. Monica said we had to go to London – it was the last David Bowie show and they couldn’t miss it. We drove in Hamish’s
