
Virginia Plain
Ferry lifted the title from his own art-school painting of a giant cigarette packet, Eno's VCS3 shrieking behind him.

Ferry lifted the title from his own art-school painting of a giant cigarette packet, Eno's VCS3 shrieking behind him.

John wrote the instrumental half imagining music for his own funeral; Hentschel's ARP 2500 overdubs did the rest.

Casablanca's Neil Bogart asked for a party song; Stanley wrote the chorus, and the live take beat the studio single.

Eight days at the Record Plant with Rundgren, and Johansen's strut arrived years before punk had a name.

Taupin lifted the phrase from a Janis Joplin tribute and pointed it at Marilyn Monroe; the chorus does the mourning.

Bowie first threw it away on a fake band called Arnold Corns, then rebuilt it at Trident around Ronson.

Gus Dudgeon overdubbed crowd noise from old concerts, and the fake live track topped the Hot 100.

Mercury wrote it at the piano, then three voices were multitracked into something the size of a gospel choir.
Mott were splitting up when Bowie offered them this, written within hours of hearing the band was finished.

Sessions collapsed in Kingston, so the band regrouped at a French chateau and Taupin traded Oz for a Lincolnshire farm.

Cut at Trident in November 1971, never a single, and Ronson's riff draws the character as sharply as the words.

Herbie Flowers doubled upright and electric bass for a session fee, and Bowie's old sax teacher played the closing solo.

Rick Wakeman's piano, Bowie's own saxophone, and a stutter on the title that flopped before it defined him.