1. Five hundred thousand pounds was an enormous sum of money then and approximately five million pounds in today’s terms.
2. David would have to generate two-and-a-half million pounds in eighteen months for me to get five hundred thousand at my rate of 20 per cent, which at the time seemed very unlikely.
3. With the benefit of hindsight, I should have insisted on keeping a 5 or 10 per cent interest in David’s future, which I am sure would not have affected the amount I was to get under the deal that I had agreed. It would probably have earned me another five million over the years. Who knew?
4. Read on and I will tell you how I pissed away most of the five hundred thousand pounds opening and running an office in Los Angeles.
Defries now had to make his own deal with David. He had often expressed his admiration for the Colonel Parker/Presley concept of a 50/50 partnership between manager and artist and he told me that this is how he intended to operate with David. The Colonel only had Presley, so I could see how this might work but I questioned how it could work when you had an office looking after multiple clients. This was answered with a typical Defries don’t-you-worry shrug. It was no longer going to be my any of my business, so I did not worry. We will get to the actual deal that David might have signed with MainMan in Tony Zanetta’s recollection of the crisis meeting that he had with David in 1974, a full account of which is set out a little later in this book.
David, who of course desperately wanted a career move to America, was delighted that I was facilitating Defries’ opening of a New York office. He and Angie came to express their appreciation of all that I had done to help them in the past and what I was now doing to help David’s future.
In August 1972, Defries moved from Gem to a home/office in Gunter Grove – between Fulham and Chelsea and an almost fashionable part of London – to plan the American venture. I felt good about the departure of the Bowie circus. Everybody in my office clearly felt that I now had more time to spend with them and the general atmosphere was more ‘one family’.
MainMan’s New York offices opened on East 58th Street, with Tony Zanetta, the actor Defries had first met the year before in Pork at the Roundhouse, running the company. Dana Gillespie also went to New York with Bowie and both she and Zanetta tell how Defries hit the ground running. He now had what he wanted – a stable of talented artists who had complete faith in his apparent Svengali-like ability to progress their careers. He no longer had an obligation to answer to me and his business ethos of ‘live like a star to be a star’ flourished unchecked. This philosophy was not confined to MainMan’s artists. Defries obviously believed in leading by example, with cigars flown in from Cuba and general profligacy. His twenty-six employees were allowed to charge any expense they chose to the company account, including – I’ve been told – cosmetic dental work and plastic surgery. According to Zanetta all, even maids and chauffeurs, had the use of a fourteen-room suite of offices in uptown Manhattan, an Upper East Side penthouse, a duplex on East 58th Street, an apartment at The Sherry-Netherland hotel and a loft on Lower West Side (now part of the trendy Tribeca area). There were also four apartments for the use of clients. Defries lived in a twentysix-room estate in Connecticut where his customised Cadillac limousine was available to him twenty-four hours a day.
Tony Zanetta told me that David was surprised by the extravagance of the MainMan offices when he arrived in early 1974, but he had complete confidence in Defries’ judgement and went along with the set-up. Tony ensconced David in a suite at the very chic and very expensive Sherry-Netherland, which is as nice a place as any to go along with anything. When David toured America, Defries made sure he enjoyed a similar level of high-profile luxury. For instance, most bands when in Los Angeles stayed at The Sunset Marquee, a reasonably priced rock’n’roll hotel, but David and his entourage stayed at the five-star Beverly Hills hotel, very much the haunt of A-list movie stars. I must confess that in later years I often stayed there myself. There is something about breakfasting with Paul Newman and Dean Martin at nearby tables to add a frisson to one’s morning – but I was paying the bill with my own money.
Within months the Defries/Bowie honeymoon was over. The catalyst was the Diamond Dogs Tour. Defries authorised a highly-paid West End/Broadway design team to create an amazing set without budgetary restrictions. This of course is like setting kids free in a candy store. The design team created a set that cost four hundred thousand dollars and took thirty men a full day to erect. Madness for a touring set. The rehearsal was a shambles and the tour was a nightmare for the crew. During a break, David would go off to record Young Americans with soul and R&B musicians, where he was to catch a bit of roots soul, and decide that he should present himself in a backto-basics way. He would then dump the set without reference to Defries.
MainMan had debts piling up. Defries lost three hundred thousand dollars producing Fame, a play about Marilyn Monroe, which came off after one night on Broadway. The UK bank account was overdrawn and debts were piling up on both sides of the Atlantic. Peter Gerber resigned from MainMan, unable to cope with Defries’ cavalier attitude to pressing creditors. Peter died suddenly a few years later from a heart attack. He was in his thirties. At his wife’s request, I spoke at his funeral, which Defries did not attend.
Back at the beginning of the Diamond Dogs Tour, Angie had flown to New York, and was summoned by Defries to his penthouse to explain how she had spent a hundred thousand dollars in a year on travel, limos and hotels. He told her to stop and that she must no longer meddle in business affairs. David then summoned Tony Zanetta to his suite at The Sherry-Netherland hotel, furious with Defries for his treatment of Angie.
Henry Edwards related Tony Zanetta’s recollection of the meeting in their book Stardust – The David Bowie Story. It is quite a long extract, but it is a major event in David Bowie’s career. I was not there, but Tony Zanetta was. It happened to him, and I think that his recounting brings it to life. I am most grateful to have received Tony’s permission to use it.
David finally came into the living room, dressed in a kimono. Angie snuggled up next to him on the couch. She looked adoringly at him and stroked his hand. The roles they had elected to play with each other that evening were man of the house and loving wife.
David emptied a vial of cocaine onto a mirror and chopped it into lines. Using a hundred-dollar bill, he snorted a line or two. He enjoyed the drug-taking ritual, chopping the cocaine and deciding how big each line should be. He especially liked the fact that he controlled the stash and could decide if and when to offer Zanetta a line. Angela neither took drugs not drank. The cocaine binge between David and Zanetta would last fifteen hours.
Even when he was relaxing, David had an agenda; there was always a scenario, a script to act out, with David triumphant at the third-act curtain. Looking back at that meeting, Zanetta realises that Bowie had several intentions. He wanted firsthand confirmation from an eyewitness of what he had been told was going on in the MainMan offices. He was also engaged in a subtle but deadly war with Defries. Now David wanted to win Defries’s right-hand man over to his side; he wanted Zanetta to work for him and not Defries.
‘Every day I wake up to face a nightmare,’ David began, ‘a nightmare I don’t understand. I once had a dream, and Tony had that dream. It’s a dream we shared.’
He looked knowingly at Zanetta. His dream automatically was everyone’s dream, his quest a mission shared by all who knew and loved him.
‘But I had to do my part,’ he continued. ‘I had to create; I had to do my work. I’ve done my part, haven’t I? I’ve upheld my end of the bargain. I don’t understand why he has done this.’
Overcome with confusion, he paused. ‘Is this the time to abandon me?’ he finally asked. ‘Is this the time to abandon the dream? This is the moment that is supposed to be triumphant.’ It was impossible not to believe along with him that he was a victim of a colossal betrayal.
‘Z, I don’t have a dollar in my pocket,’ he said inc
redulously. ‘It’s ridiculous, laughable, a bloody nightmare. When Tony spoke to Angie like that he was meddling in my personal life,’ David declared. ‘I don’t advise him on the subject of Melanie’s [Defries’ wife] spending. Where does he come off telling Angie how to spend her money? He’s crossed his boundaries with that one. He’s in charge of my business, not my personal life or my work. All I know is I don’t have the money to give Angie to spend while he has all the money in the world to give to Melanie.’
Angela looked lovingly at her champion. ‘I was never so insulted in all my life,’ she said sadly. ‘He really hurt me.’ They cuddled up to each other. They looked so childlike and wounded they could have been posing for an orphanage poster.
Although they slept in separate bedrooms Angela and David had enormous loyalty, neither tolerating criticism of the other. In the proper mood they could give stunning performances of husband and wife. They acted the roles so well they convinced not only everyone around them but also themselves that they were deeply in love.
‘I can’t get through to Tony on the phone. I can’t see him. He doesn’t have time for me or my career. He’s too busy getting the price of gold, too busy worrying about how many nights I’m going to play and counting heads. Everything, everything, has a dollar sign on it. It’s diabolical!’
There was a pause. He stared at Zanetta. ‘Z, I feel very alone. I feel totally defenceless.’
Zanetta was touched by David’s surprising display of emotion. He replied, ‘I’m willing to do anything I can to help. I can talk to Tony for you.’
‘You’re the only one I can rely on. You’re the only one in that office I can trust, whom I can expect to give me answers about what’s going on. I’m financially dependent on Tony. I have no idea what I’ve got, I don’t know what I’m worth. I don’t know who’s paying for everything. Where’s the money coming from for all the projects? Who’s paying for the Wayne County film? Who’s paying for the Broadway production of Fame? Who’s paying for Mick Ronson’s campaign? Who’s paying for Dana’s campaign? Who’s paying for the billboards? Half of this company is mine, but I have no say in anything. I don’t know what’s going out, I don’t know what’s coming in.’
‘David,’ Zanetta said, ‘your deal is no secret. You are to receive 50 per cent of the profits – after your expenses are deducted – of the monies generated by you and you alone. You own no portion of MainMan. MainMan belongs exclusively to Tony.’
It was as if David had erected a soundproof booth around himself. His look grew determined, and he jutted out his jaw. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said. ‘Tony and I are partners, our agreement has always been 50/50.’
‘You own 50 per cent of your income after all expenses are deducted. Tony is under no obligation to pay you anything other than your salary and to support you, your family, and your staff. The money you generate is MainMan income, not Bowie income. It remains MainMan income until Tony decides to distribute it. You have given him permission to use this money to develop other acts and to build MainMan. All your money goes to him, and he has total control over it. You have never had any control over your money.’
‘I own 50 per cent of MainMan.’
‘That’s not your agreement. You own no portion of MainMan.’
‘I know I own 50 per cent of the company.’ Nothing could make him change his mind.
‘Surely you always knew what your deal with Tony was?’ said Zanetta.
David looked confused. To admit that he had not known the truth was to admit that he had behaved irresponsibly, to admit that he was less than perfect. ‘I never understood it,’ he said stubbornly. ‘I know I own 50 per cent of MainMan.’
Once again Zanetta told him the exact terms of his deal. ‘David, it’s the deal you made. You could always have renegotiated it; you can still renegotiate it.’
‘I own 50 per cent of MainMan, I know I do.’
‘If you think Tony’s cheating you, hire an accountant and audit his books. See where the money is going. Decide which expenses you think are legitimate.’ Zanetta was talking to a wall. David stared silently into space. ‘If you have suspicions about anything, hire a lawyer and conduct a full investigation,’ urged Zanetta.
Bowie didn’t want lawyers and accountants. He wanted to maintain his fantasy that Tony had become involved with him out of love and a belief in his talent, not as part of his empire-building.
It was almost dawn but the cocaine had filled David with speedy energy.
Angela curled up on David’s lap and fell asleep.
Later, while Angela dozed, the two men watched the sun rise over Manhattan. Everything seemed peaceful and happy for a few moments. Then David again became crestfallen. ‘How did it come to this?’ he asked quietly. ‘Why did it come to this? It shouldn’t have. You know it shouldn’t have. I don’t understand any of it.’
I met with Angie in May 2017 whilst doing research for this book. She had been invited to London by the filmmaker Jon Brewer to help promote Beside Bowie, his film about Mick Ronson. Our meeting was interesting. She is no less of a force of nature than she was when I first met her almost fifty years ago. Angie was born in Cyprus to American parents. She was well educated in Cyprus, Switzerland and England and then went to Connecticut college where she was expelled for having an affair with someone of her own sex. She was, by her own admission, brash and opinionated. She now lives in Atlanta with a long-term partner – male! In some quarters she has been exclusively cast as a bad influence in David’s life, which I think is unfair. I have no view of who was ‘the bad guy’ in their personal relationship, and by conventional standards I think Freud might have given up psychiatry had he taken the case. But I firmly believe that she was extremely important in prompting David to make the initial breakthrough from talented musical artist to chameleon-like, world-famous icon. He was a low-energy individual and she provided high energy for them both.
I first asked Angie why it took so long for David to actually take any action against Defries. The relevant meeting with Tony Zanetta was in the summer of 1974 and it took six months before David instructed his attorney Michael Lippman to start any proceedings. She told me that David was on tour, doing a lot of cocaine and it was a big decision, requiring careful thought. Apparently, John Lennon and Mick Jagger had both advised him that no managers were to be trusted.
Angie told me that Defries was determined to get rid of her as soon as he felt he had a hold on David. Corinne Schwab – Coco – a MainMan employee who had become David’s assistant, was also a great influence and was also determined that Angie should go. Coco became David’s fiercely loyal gatekeeper for many years. Angie physically split from David around 1977, although they were not divorced until February 1980. By then she was in Switzerland and Angie told me that she was not given enough to live on and was deprived of any relationship with her son Zowie (now Duncan Jones). I asked her if she was proud of his success as a film director. ‘Good for him,’ she said, ‘but David poisoned him against me, and I have not seen him for forty years. I don’t know him so it gives me no thrill.’ Tony Zanetta later told me that Duncan, who had been sent by David to be educated in Switzerland, used to visit Angie in school holidays until he was about thirteen. Angie was still very much living a rock’n’roll lifestyle and, in Tony’s view, Duncan was not comfortable staying with her. David sent him to be educated at Gordonstoun, the Scottish school attended by the Duke of Edinburgh and Prince Charles, from which time Angie and her son were totally estranged.
Angie told me of the sexual merry-go-round of her circle in the early seventies. David was certainly a busy boy. He had ‘fucked countless women, and there were also many men,’ said Angie. David had ‘fucked Corinne once, to make her feel good’. She said that Defries and Dana Gillespie were also, at some point having sex. Defries had married Melanie, who had met him via Rodney Bingenheimer. Angie said of Defries and Melanie, ‘I fucked them both. Well … not fucked, but … you know?’ In truth I did not know, but nodded,
not wishing her to think that I was naive – which in this area I was and am. A middle-class background and the leftover sixties’ hippy trippy/free love/do-your-own-thing/ let-it-all-hang-out lifestyle had passed me by. She actually said that she had always admired me for being ‘the most honest man she had ever known in the music business, with a wife and family that gave stability’. She also said that when the MainMan carnival moved to America she missed my steadying influence, and told David so. She may have just been telling me what I would like to hear, but I liked to hear it, so that’s OK.
I did not meet David again until 1975. I had received a call from Mel Ilberman of RCA Records, whom I liked very much. ‘Where there’s a hit, there’s a writ’ was manifesting itself in a tsunami of litigation. In addition to the bitter fight between David and Defries, Defries and RCA were also actively engaged in litigation. Following the fallout with Defries, David was trying to get RCA to deal with him directly. Record companies invariably support artists who are in a fight with their manager as, invariably, managers can’t sing. In this case, Mel would have been delighted to bypass Defries, but the manager had a powerful legal position which complicated the situation. There seemed to be no hope of David releasing a new album until the legal issues were resolved, a stalemate which could have gone on for years.
This would have been a problem. No matter how big the artist, if the fans’ interest is not maintained with a new album there is a danger that they can eventually be forgotten. It genuinely concerned me that David’s career would be harmed if this logjam was not resolved. I no longer had any financial interest in David, having happily banked my half-a-million-pound pay-off at the end of 1974, but I had started my relationship with David in 1970 because I was a fan, and I still was.
Hunky Dory (Who Knew) Page 18