Brighton Dome May 23, 1973
- David Bowie
- May 22, 1973
- 4 min read
David Bowie performed two shows on May 23, 1973, (a matinee and an evening performance) at the Brighton Dome in Brighton, England, as part of his Ziggy Stardust Tour. This was the 119th date of the tour, which began in January 1972, and marked Bowie’s return to the venue after a performance there on February 14, 1972. The concerts were a cultural milestone, showcasing Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust persona at the peak of his early fame, with theatrical elements like stroboscopic lighting, elaborate costumes, and a transformative stage presence that turned the Dome into a “science fiction world” of music and visuals.
Notably, the Quicksand medley was performed for the last time on this tour, replaced by another medley afterward. "Rock & Roll Suicide" was reportedly not played, which was unusual for the tour.
Audience Reaction: The crowd was highly enthusiastic, described as “hysterical” and “frantic.” Fans surged toward the stage, with some climbing over seats, leading to significant damage—18 seats were reportedly uprooted. Four young girls fainted during the show, and one fan was heard screaming, “I love you David!” after "Moonage Daydream."
Due to the audience’s rowdy behavior and damage to the theatre, particularly the seats, the Brighton Dome management banned Bowie from performing there again. This decision generated significant press publicity.
The concert left a lasting impression on attendees. Local journalist Melita Dennett, who was 10 at the time, described it as a life-changing experience, highlighting Bowie’s role in inspiring fans to embrace individuality and reject conformity. Fans dressed in glam outfits, with platform shoes, glitter, and makeup, reflecting Bowie’s influence on fashion and identity.
Ticket Price: A balcony ticket cost £1.20, equivalent to about £11.50. Tickets were highly sought after, with fans queuing for hours—some starting at midnight the previous month.
The Brighton Evening Argus, in a review by Rodney Deitch, praised the performance as “total theatre,” noting the band’s superiority over other pop groups and the transformative atmosphere. A film crew was present, adding to the excitement, and Southern TV later aired a clip of the show.
Fans’ dedication was evident, with some, like Steve Webb, sneaking out at 5 a.m. to queue for tickets. Another fan recalled keeping an Aladdin Sane poster from the gig for 15 years after snatching it from another attendee.
The concert’s energy led to clashes with venue management, who were strict about dancing in the aisles, with signs warning that shows would stop if rules were broken.
Bowie’s performance included memorable moments like wearing a Japanese suit that was “ripped in two” and sporting a golden disc on his forehead, enhancing the Ziggy Stardust mystique.
The Brighton Dome shows are remembered as a high point of the Ziggy Stardust era, encapsulating Bowie’s ability to blend music, theatre, and cultural rebellion. The ban from the venue only added to the legend of these performances.
Imagine, or re-live, the moment David Bowie performed Ziggy Stardust and Aladdin Sane at Brighton Dome, in 1973, with help from Melita Dennett's wonderfully detailed recollection of the show (even down to the nail varnish she wore)
“And then came the news I'd been awaiting: Bowie was playing in Brighton. Off we all packed in the car for the day, my mother and little sister off on an extended shopping trip while my father waited patiently as we queued for five tantalisingly long hours in New Road for the box office.
And what a queue. Men-not-men seven feet tall in their platforms, some screaming camply in sequins, glitter and makeup, others in denim flares with kohl-eyed girls in Biba outfits, purple lipstick and white tights, or "dead legs" as my mother would call them. These people were freaks, the un-normal, from another world, Bowie World.
It was looking like we'd be unlucky, but we got two of the very last tickets, in the back row of the circle, £1.20 each, then we went to the Lyons Corner Shop on the corner with North Road for a well-deserved cuppa.
£1.20. Might as well have been worth a million pounds. I had a ticket to see David Bowie!
And finally the day came. 23rd May 1973. I wore my green denim flares with bullet-shaped shiny silver studs down the side seams and raised studs on the flap over the flies, and silver nail varnish (an experiment that didn't last too long, albeit a bit longer than the brown lipstick). My father drove to Brighton and as he and I made our way up to our seats in the gods, the excitement was almost unbearable.
A film came on with some odd dream-like sequences, and a bit where a woman's eye was sliced with a razor led the whole Dome to let out a collective "Urrrhh!" then some weird fairground music and oh this was getting annoying... Then suddenly the Spiders from Mars appeared and as Bowie rushed onto the stage, the crowd below surged forward frantically down the aisles and across the seats, raising their hands to the leper messiah. I managed not to be sick with excitement as the Spiders tore into the set, trying to dance in between the seats and taking as much of this whole scene in as I could, Bowie resplendent with his golden disc on his forehead, Ronson's electric blowjob, Garson bashing the piano discordantly in the Aladdin Sane solo, Bowie's outrageous Japanese suit ripped in two, and the almighty collective roar that resonated round the domed roof when he sang on Drive In Saturday about "the strange ones in the dome"....
It was over all too quickly, but this was it: I knew there was another life, another world because I'd seen it, here in Brighton Dome. It wasn't just about Bowie, it was the realisation that you could step outside of stifling conformity, normality and find that other world for yourself. It was just Bowie who lit the way for me and innumerable others.
After that, nothing could be, would be, should be the same ever, ever again -- at least for this strange one in The Dome.”
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