“So loud it was shaking the ceiling tiles out”: The story of David Bowie’s secret 1997 drum ’n’ bass show

Producer Mark Plati and promoter Brian Spollen recall the rowdy Dublin rehearsal room gig where Bowie road-tested his Earthling era live.

It was May 1997, and David Bowie had settled in Dublin with his band to rehearse before touring Earthling – his self-produced, divisive collision of industrial rock with drum ’n’ bass and jungle rhythms. Dublin was a city he would develop a lasting affinity for and find some of his closest collaborators in, but this time, the trip placed him briefly in the orbit of a local club scene he’d first been tipped off to by Goldie, who had been Bowie’s formative introduction to drum ’n’ bass culture after the two met at Metalheadz’s Shoreditch residency.

At its centre was Quadraphonic, a collective whose nights drew Dublin’s drum ’n’ bass kids to underground venues like the Kitchen, the Globe and Andrew’s Lane. At one of these nights at the Kitchen, word began to circulate: there would be a once-in-a-lifetime show, tomorrow. After long days spent rehearsing, Bowie had been linking up with Quadraphonic promoter Brian Spollen to experience the scene firsthand, and had decided he wanted to play for one of its crowds. Attendees were told only to call a number for details, and, crucially, they had to have a ticket from the club night before to get in.

The following day, a few hundred people packed into a sweaty rehearsal space in an old factory building to watch Bowie and his band charge through 45 minutes of drum ’n’ bass – a set which featured Earthling material alongside tracks from Outside, Black Tie White Noise, Heroes and Station to Station, as well as a Fame rework and a cover of Laurie Anderson’s O Superman – followed by a 22-track run through career-spanning favourites. By all accounts, the music was so loud it could be heard for miles, and it shook the building so hard that fire services, police and MPs were called. This was a one-off, largely undocumented moment preserved mostly through word of mouth, but one that speaks to some of the qualities that defined the artist: curiosity, mystique, showmanship, a total commitment to his ideas, and a flair for the unexpected.

“It felt like we were breaking a little new ground by doing something of this sort,” said Mark Plati, a producer and musician who was initially brought into Earthling sessions as a mixer and engineer, but quickly became an influential co-producer on the album, a frequent collaborator, and even played in Bowie’s band. Here, he and Spollen explain how the night came to be.

Was an interest in the Dublin drum ’n’ bass scene the reason Bowie wanted to spend time there?

Mark Plati: I don’t know exactly why we came to Dublin, other than David having a liking for the city. I would imagine we got a favourable deal on the studio, as well as the hotel, The Clarence, owned at that time by U2.

Is it true that he was introduced to these club nights through Goldie?

Brian Spollen: I was at the airport picking up Goldie to do a night, and when he came out of the arrivals, he said, ‘Brian, did David Bowie ring you? He’s in Dublin. He wants to come’. One of the first albums I’d ever bought was Let’s Dance. I was blown away.

That night, he turned up at this little club called Andrew’s Lane. He sat at the back of the stage and just listened to the music. At the end, we were all saying goodbye, and he asked for my number and if he could call me during the week. Next thing, he’s calling every day. Aoife, the receptionist at MCD [Productions], would be like, ‘Brian, David Bowie’s on the phone for you again’. 

Then we would go down in the evening, after I was finished work and after he was finished rehearsing, and we would hang out.

When did Bowie decide to put on the show?

BS: He came along to another night we did at the Kitchen where he sprung it on us: ‘I’m finishing up at the Factory, I’d love to play. But I don’t want [just] fans, I want it to be your kids’.

So we came up with this mechanic where you would have to go to the Kitchen on the Friday night, and you would get a flyer that had a number you would call on the Saturday. But you had to have your ticket from the club night to get in. It was kind of mad, because his production team were used to doing Madison Square Garden, and they were fine to do that show in a rehearsal room.

Did the idea stem from just wanting to play for these crowds, or was it also a practice show for the album tour and playing these new sounds live? 

MP: I would say it was a combination of both. A road-test for the tour was definitely part of it, to make sure we got any of the kinks out, but I recall some excitement about doing a smaller-scale gig of this sort.

Can you describe the energy of the room? What made it so special?

MP: For one, it was really, really loud. I think our front-of-house mixer was also road-testing the system and really pushed it. And of course, attending a David Bowie gig in an environment where you could basically reach out and touch him was pretty special.

BS: I remember friends who were very much dressed up for the night, and dust was going all over them – the tiles were coming off the ceiling. They were covered in dust because it was so loud that it was shaking the ceiling tiles out.

Of course, it was insane, because there were about a thousand people outside trying to get in, and it was in a residential area – a place called Ringsend. It was incredibly loud. It was like a fucking earthquake. 

Were there any standout tracks for you from the drum ’n’ bass set list? 

MP: For me, of course, hearing the Earthling tracks come alive was pretty fantastic. There was also our reworking of Fame and Laurie Anderson’s O Superman.

Drum ’n’ bass set list:
I’m Deranged
Pallas Athena
V-2 Schneider
Fame (Is It Any Wonder version)
O Superman (Laurie Anderson cover)
The Last Thing You Should Do
Telling Lies
Stay

Rock set list:
Battle for Britain (The Letter)
Hallo Spaceboy
Fashion
Under Pressure 
Little Wonder
The Motel
“Heroes”
Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps)
Outside
Looking for Satellites
The Man Who Sold the World
Strangers When We Meet
I’m Afraid of Americans
Quicksand
Seven Years in Tibet
The Jean Genie
White Light/White Heat (The Velvet Underground cover)
Queen Bitch
I’m Waiting for the Man (The Velvet Underground cover)
All the Young Dudes
Dead Man Walking
Fame

Mark, how did the band approach the O Superman cover live?

MP: I think we might have sampled a couple of bits of the original recording and then arranged them over a rhythm track we created. I’m sure it was David’s idea to feature [bassist] Gail Ann Dorsey. 

What was the creative process in the Earthling sessions like? Was there a shared vision for the record? 

MP: We didn’t dwell much on referencing artists per se, or trying to mimic or copy their sound. It was more about capturing the feeling of jungle and drum ’n’ bass as the undercarriage for songs. If there was a shared vision, it went unspoken for a little while – we were basically doing this until we were a couple of songs in, when David then recognised it for what it was.

What were some of the artists that he, you and the rest of the band were listening to at the time?

MP: I recall Photek and Underworld as artists David and Reeves [Gabrels] would bring up around then. The rest of the band weren’t very aware of it at all, from what I could tell. I more appreciated rhythms and sounds regardless of genre – I could really appreciate what went into drum ’n’ bass, but I didn’t strive to be a part of that world.

You’ve spoken before about a few memorable moments during the time you spent working on the music, and one where David Lynch seemed to “materialise out of nowhere”.

MP: This would happen from time to time in sessions – people would just show up! There was usually a reason, of course. In the case of David Lynch, it was the Lost Highway soundtrack as David had a song on it, but it’s not like we would have advance notice or anything.

In what ways did this Factory gig represent this era of the Bowie-verse?

MP: He was fully incorporating the drum ’n’ bass aesthetic into his own music in typical David Bowie fashion – basically, taking disparate elements and making something of his own. 

How did the way it all unfolded speak to his character and legacy?

MP: By this time, I was starting to see this as typical David: get an idea, and then go for it, full on with both resources and enthusiasm. He would really embrace an experience, which was really infectious for the rest of us.

For those who didn’t manage to get into the show, what was the reaction locally?

BS: The cops started coming, and I’m explaining that it’s a private party, no one’s buying alcohol. You get a guard coming up first, then a sergeant, then a superintendent. They just keep getting more and more senior. 

In the middle of all this, the fire officer arrives [asking to check the fire exit]. I brought him up to a balcony that held two people and asked, ‘Does this work?’ He literally went, ‘This is the most illegal thing I’ve ever seen in my life’. 

Then it’s the end of the night, we’re done, and I’m talking to a chief superintendent, who’s the most senior guard. He’s like, ‘Brian, I don’t know what the fuck was going on here tonight. People are getting TDs [MPs] out of bed, so you’d better have a story for me’. I’m starting my spiel for the tenth time, and Bowie comes walking down the hall with Iman, Eddie Irvine, the Formula One Ferrari driver, and Joe Elliott from Def Leppard. He’s like, ‘Thanks a million, so brilliant’, and we’re all hugs and kisses. I turn back to the guard, and he says, ‘Well, I know who he is. Goodnight, Brian’. And I never heard from [Bowie] again.

We still joke about it now: shoehorning a David Bowie show into this rehearsal room with a bunch of drum ’n’ bass kids. It was a mad night.