PUMA ARGENTINA

This, with The Rutles soundtrack playing over the PA in the background, was totally weird, yet strangely in keeping with the atmosphere. Forget Argentina v Holland twenty-four hours later, this was the Bowie lads and lasses World Cup Final. All the snide comments and mick-taking at school and in the workplace, about the haircuts and the clothes, from clueless peers who’d never understand - this here tonight was the payback and what it was all about. Standing in a shed outside Stafford, slipping in pools of sweat and vomit, sweating an amphetamine sweat without having taken the speed, boys and girls alike with make-up running down their faces. All in the name of Bowie-worship. Unlike the duffel-wearers, the sartorial choice of yellow Sweden home-shirt style tee with a green kagoule that could be tied around the waist seemed a wise one, but the green suede Puma Heynckes trainers weren’t going to be looking too clever by the end of the night ….

The Rutles gave way briefly to a Taste of Honey’s Boogie Oogie Oogie and then it all went dark.The opening bars of Warszawa, the epitomal instrumental off Low, kicked in and a swathe of white light flashed across the hall to reveal guitarist Carlos Alomar conducting the band like he was leading the Berlin Philharmonic. Calmly stood behind a keyboard was the Thin White Popeye. Bowie was wearing an open white shirt with sleeves rolled-up, a black tie, pegs and a sailor’s hat at a jaunty angle. Only Bowie could carry that get-up off. Somehow I just couldn’t see this look catching on with the matchday lads, not without Leeds away resembling a mass audition for a remake of On The Town. Warszawa moved into Heroes. Bowie and the crowd were buzzing in this beehive sweatbox and the band’s sound, already honed by three months of touring, was tighter-knit than a mohair jumper shrunk on boil wash. A twenty-song set fl ew by in what seemed like minutes, a clever mixture of the new Berlin songs and resurrected Ziggy Stardust material. When the supposed coolest crowd in the land’s singing along to Fame and the collective “… wham bam thank you mam …” shout during Suffragette City would have done the Kop or Gwladys Street End proud, I think it’s safe to say Bowie can still cut it with the best. The only grumbles? The Stage live album recorded on the tour doesn’t do it anywhere near justice, the absence of personal favourite Golden Years from the Stafford set and a pair of ruined trainers ….

Shaun Smith