ANGIE: Life With David or When Will Those Clouds All Disappear?

I’ll never forget the day Angie Bowie rang me up and asked for Nick Kent’s address. When I asked why she wanted it, she replied, “I’d like to have half a ton of*wet cement delivered to his front door.”

Poor old Ange.

She has quite a reputation for things like that. Her freakouts are frequent and of epic proportions.

On the other hand, she’s been known to answer fan letters for five or six hours at a stretch and it’s a long time since June Bolan or Bianca Jagger did that.

These days she’s best known as a professional failer of auditions, as a chat show guest and the frequent subject of photo spreads. She’s about as upfront as a rock star’s wife can get without actually playing in the band. She’s got her own fan club, and her husband’s fans find her almost as fascinating as David himself.

Depending on the circumstances of meeting, Angie Bowie is both well-hated and well-liked. Many people in the business have got Angie Bowie horror stories to tell, and yet I’ve always found her both excellent company and very considerate.