Any Major Dude With Half A Heart

Live Aid: 13 July 1985. Forty years ago on Sunday!

The music wasn’t invariably good, the artists tended to be at least a bit self-serving, we had seats right at the back of Wembley Stadium, and the legacy of the event is questioned by many. And still, for me, attending Live Aid in London is an unforgettable event, not only as a historic concert but also because for one day there was such a concentration of goodwill among people.

The ticket price in London was £25, in Philadelphia $35. In terms of purchasing power, the value of the tickets today (July 2025), would be £96.80 and $105 respectively. But with a Taylor Swift ticket going for $250 — plus fees — today, the price of Live Aid tickets would likely be set to be much more expensive now. In 1985, going to a concert (or sports event) was not yet a luxury item in your budget. Two weeks before Live Aid, I saw Bruce Springsteen at Wembley Stadium. The ticket cost £14.50, now worth £56. That was for a concert by Springsteen at his absolute prime. In 2025, the cheapest ticket to see a 40-years-older Bruce costs you £87.50 (plus the cost of the hoops you may need to jump through for the privilege of supporting The Boss).

Of course, I bought the Live Aid T-shirt and the Live Aid programme (in duplicate, as gifts for my brother, at the HMV store at Piccadilly Circus the week before the concert). The programme cost £5.00, which today has a purchasing power of £19.20 — quite pricey even then.    

People arrive at Wembley Stadium for Live Aid on 15 July 1985 (my photo).

At bargain-priced Live Aid, there were some long stretches of tedium (Bryan Ferry!), as some acts performed songs which nobody needed to hear. And the creations by mad hairstylists immortalised that decade of my youth as one bereft of elegance. Just look at Bono and his hideous mullet! But the dull stretches were enlivened by some high point.

And everybody is right, Queen were indeed, well, majestic. Fred made crazy love to the whole of Wembley stadium. For all the transparent fact-fiddling bullshit in the mostly terrible Queen biopic, the recreation of the Live Aid segment was spot-on (though, of course, the narrative that they had not played on stage together for years was one of those transparent fact-fiddling bullshit inventions). That performance provided my abiding memory of Live Aid: the crowds doing that arms-aloft-clap-clap-arms-aloft-clap-clap thing from the video of Radio Gaga – what a sight that was from where I was sitting, overlooking the masses on the pitch (the photo below shows my view of the crowd) – followed by Mercury leading the 72,000 people in vocal exercises (they had opportunity to practise their vocal cords during Elvis Costello’s fine performance of All You Need Is Love). I was not particularly a Queen fan before Live Aid, nor was I one after. But on that day, I was a Queen fan.

My view at Wembley Stadium. Not great, but imagine the sight during the Radio Gaga handclapping thing! (own photo)

Queen played six songs in their allocated time. Acts like U2, Dire Straits and The Who played just two, with all of them doodling on forever with one of these. Dire Straits’ Sultans Of Swing seemed never-ending, even testing the patience of this fan of the song. The Who went into extra-time with Won’t Get Fooled Again. It is a great song, so no complaints from me, but they could have played three songs in that time.

U2 also played my favourite in their repertoire, Bad. Suddenly, Bono jumped off the stage, grabbed that girl from the crowd, and danced with her. In a documentary made 20 years later, Bono suggested it was a spontaneous act. It may well be that he hadn’t planned to do this at Wembley, but he had pulled that stunt — probably copied from Springsteen’s Dancing In The Dark video, the one with Courtney Cox as the dancee — during every single U2 concert at the time, during the same song. I know, because I had seen three of these gigs in three different countries over successive weeks that summer, preceding Live Aid. So my reaction was one not of surprise but of familiarity; I thought it was planned and marvelled at the audacity of it. I can see why The Edge, Clayton and Mullen might have been annoyed at Bono’s stunt, but they cannot have been surprised by it. The narrative that they just went on improvising, not knowing what was happening or what to do while Bono disappeared from their view, is overstating things.

If Queen had not stolen the show, then Elton John’s set might have taken the honours as the best act in the London leg. Elton did the right thing: play the hits. And then he introduced George Michael, who came out as a bearded man for the first time. He was magnificent as he sang Elton’s Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me. When George got around to recording the song with Elton John almost a decade later, it had lost something of the magic of that July night.

In Philadelphia, Hall & Oates stole the show. In a fairly soul-deprived line-up, the blue-eyed soulmen hooked up with bona fide soul legends, and sang soul music. Temptations alumni Eddie Kendricks and David Ruffin had appeared as guest stars on stage with Hall & Oates just a couple of months earlier — it is captured on the fine Live At The Apollo album, recorded in May 1985 and released in September that year — so the act was well-rehearsed.

Otherwise there were the Four Tops and Billy Ocean. Neither they, nor Run-DMC had prominent slots. Patti LaBelle did, but her acute histrionics were entirely distressing, even for a soul fan. Ashford & Simpson appeared with Teddy Pendergrass, the latter appearing on stage for the first time since his accident which had left him paraplegic

Tina Turner was there, but only as a duet partner with Mick Jagger. In any case, her thing by then was rock, rather than soul. Some people regard their duet as a highlight of Live Aid. They certainly had stage presence, chemistry and energy — how could it be otherwise? — but why on earth did they perform the atrocious State Of Shock, Jagger’s 1984 duet with Michael Jackson? And their rendition of It’s Only Rock & Roll is more shouty than nuanced. Visually, that performance was great (even if one had to suffer Jagger awkwardly tearing off his shirt to reveal the kind of pasty chest you might associate with that of a plucked duck). Aurally, however, it was underwhelming, in view of what both singers might have done.

Phil Collins performed in both London and in Philadelphia, thanks to being flown over on a specially laid-on Concorde flight. In the ego-driven 1980s, everybody thought it was a cute stunt. Few questioned whether the thousands of pounds spent on it, courtesy of British Airways, might not have been better awarded to famine relief. Nobody raised ecological concerns about that unnecessary venture either.

I missed Led Zeppelin’s set, sitting on a tube train on my way home. Backed by the freshly-imported Phil Collins, Page and pals regarded their performance as their worst ever — and blamed poor Phil for it. They have not given permission for the footage to be used since. So it doesn’t appear on the official four-disc DVD set. Also missing from it is Duran Duran’s performance of A View To A Kill, thanks to Simon Le Bon famous note-malfunction (see it here).

Carlos Santana also has forbidden release of his Live Aid performance. I have no memory of it (possibly still going home), and that is a shame, because Santana’s appearance was a bit historic. Carlos appeared at both Woodstock and Live Aid, as did Crosby, Stills & Nash and Neil Young.

The Who, of course, beat that: they played at Live Aid, Woodstock and Monterey. So did Stephen Still and Neil Young, at Monterey as part of Buffalo Springfield.

Anyway, back in Philly, the embarrassing moments kept coming. Bob Dylan and the two craggies from the Stones (who looked 60-plus then, but were only in their early forties) contrived to perform an amusing cacophony of Blowing In The Wind, an aural disaster reportedly because they could not hear each other due to some technical problem or other.

Doubtless many acts on the bill were sincere about feeding the world and reminding the starving Ethiopians that they were doing their best to ensure that there will be snow in Africa next Christmastime, regardless of the inopportune consequences of such radical climate change. But among those who took part were also opportunists, wanting in on the cash-in. Some revived their flagging careers on the back of Live Aid. In fact, reportedly all but one act who appeared at Live Aid recorded increased sales after the event, the exception being poor Adam Ant. Live Aid was about corporate profiteering as well as about social engagement. Did much of the artists’ profits from increased post-Live Aid sales go to famine relief? Didn’t think so.

Paradoxically, Live Aid was also a bit of a racially problematic event. No African artists other than Sade — hardly an artist whom one would file under World Music — appeared in either London or Philadelphia; an oddity when the event was supposed to raise awareness about Africa. As noted above, black artists were thin on the bill, especially in London (the same was true of the Band Aid single).

The almost complete absence of black acts in London was shameful, but in Philadelphia it was not entirely for lack of trying. Stevie Wonder declined to participate — he just called to say “No, thank you” — because he did not want to be a token black act, and others followed his example. It probably didn’t help that US promoter Bill Graham was a, let’s say, complicated character.

For all the big names on both stages, none of the biggest solo stars of 1984/85 played a set at Live Aid (and let’s recall that in July 1985, Madonna’s star was still rising). Michael Jackson was missing (despite having co-written We Are The World), as was Prince, as was Bruce Springsteen (who later regretted his decision, and at least he had left his stage up at Wembley for Live Aid’s free use). And Lionel Richie turned up only for the triumphally messy finale.

I don’t quite buy into the idea that Live Aid was in itself malign, though a valid case can be made that it reflected White Saviour Syndrome. Pragmatically, it raised money which saved lives, and built clinics and water purification schemes, even if a lot of the money sent to Africa did not even reach the poor (as tends to be the case with foreign aid). But the idea to raise money to save lives is commendable. It did raise awareness on a range of issues concerning famine, albeit imperfectly, and it promoted some sense of social responsibility. In the callous, self-centred 1980s, Live Aid made charity cool. But it also proposed a notion that charity is not selfless, that for your charity you must get something in return, at the very least the option to congratulate yourself. Consumerist charity, one might call it.

And still, Live Aid, at least initially, did not see itself as a solution but as a contribution to facing a problem. Read that way, its contribution was admirable.

Oh, and Bob Geldof never said: “Give me your fuckin’ money.”

And so, here is a compilation of selected Live Aid highlights and notable moments (I excluded Paul McCartney’s Let It Be, which was later overdubbed to cover technical problems, and The Beach Boys’ brutal assault on their own Wouldn’t It Be Nice). The mix is timed to fit on three standard CD-Rs, and includes this text in an illustrated PDF. PW in comments. Some comments refer to an earlier version of this article.

And if you liked this, please consider donating money to famine/food-crisis relief in Gaza, South Sudan, Sudan, Mali, Yemen or Haiti.

DISC 1:
1. Live Aid – Intro
2. Status Quo – Rockin’ All Over The World
3. The Style Council – Walls Come Tumbling Down
4. Boomtown Rats – I Don’t Like Mondays
5. Ultavox – Vienna
6. Spandau Ballet – Only When You Leave
7. Spandau Ballet – True
8. Elvis Costello – All You Need Is Love
9. Sade – Your Love Is King
10. Phil Collins – Against The Odds
11. Alison Moyet & Paul Young – That’s The Way Love Is
12. Bryan Adams – Summer Of ’69
13. Paul Young – Everytime You Go Away
14. U2 – Sunday Bloody Sunday
15. U2 – Bad
16. Beach Boys – Good Vibrations

DISC 2:
1. Queen – Bohemian Rhapsody
2. Queen – Radio Gaga
3. Queen – We Are The Champions
4. Queen – We Will Rock You
5. Simple Minds – Don’t You (Forget About Me)
6. David Bowie – Heroes
7. David Bowie – Modern Love
8. Pretenders – Chain Gang
9. The Who – Won’t Get Fooled Again
10. Elton John – Bennie And The Jets
11. Elton John – Rocket Man
12. George Michael & Elton John – Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me
13. Ashford & Simpson with Teddy Pendergrass – Reach Out And Touch
14. Madonna – Holiday
15. Freddie Mercury & Brian May – Is This The World We Created
16. Live Aid Wembley Finale – Do They Know It’s Christmas?

DISC 3:
1. Stills & Nash – Teach Your Children Well
2. The Cars – Heartbeat City
3. Neil Young – Nothing Is Perfect (In God’s Perfect Plan)
4. Eric Clapton – White Room
5. Eric Clapton – Layla
6. Phil Collins – In The Air Tonight
7. Duran Duran – Save A Prayer
8. Hall & Oates – Maneater
9. Hall & Oates with Eddie Kendricks – Get Ready
10. Hall & Oates with Eddie Kendricks & David Ruffin – Ain’t Too Proud To Beg
11. Hall & Oates with Eddie Kendricks & David Ruffin – My Girl
12. Mick Jagger – Miss You
13. Bob Dylan, Keith Richards & Ron Wood – Blowing In The Wind
14. Live Aid Philadelphia Finale – We Are The World

Wembley – Disc 1: All except tracks 12 & 16. Disc 2: tracks 1-4,6-7, 9-12, 15-16
Philadelphia – Disc 1: tracks 12, 16. Disc 2: tracks 5,8, 13-14. Disc 3: all tracks

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More CD-R mixes

This collection of soul acts performing their songs live on stage was inspired by the superb documentary The Summer of Soul, which tells the story of a series of six free music festivals held in Harlem in the summer of 1969 (see the trailer here). Despite drawing an audience of 300,000 and featuring an array of big stars, the Harlem Cultural Festival was practically forgotten — while the mostly white Woodstock was mythologised, in nearly an instant (and not unfairly so, as I suggested at its 50^th anniversary).

I knew about 1972’s Operation PUSH Expo’s “Save The Children” festival in Chicago, having cherished the double album soundtrack since the 1980s, and about 1972’s Wattstax festival. Both events provide a number of tracks on this mix. But I had never heard of the Harlem Cultural Festival, and I don’t suppose that this owed to a blind spot in my soul education. The event was filmed, but found no takers. So it languished in a basement for decades.

It was as if a conspiracy of silence suppressed the event. Why? Well, it was an event of black consciousness at which the Panthers provided security (because the NYPD refused to)! There was no place in Nixon’s America for such subversion, even if Republican NYC mayor Lindsey made a turn at the event. And, yes, it was political. Nina Simone alone was so powerful, she’d have Dewey Crow raise his fist in salute. But Wattstax was also political, and in Chicago, even Nixon-supporting Sammy Davis Jr asserted his blackness.

There was little overlap between the three events. Rev Jesse Jackson spoke at all three of them, every time delivering the “I Am Somebody” litany.  Gladys Knight and the Pips were at the Harlem and PUSH events; The Staples Singers at Harlem and Wattstax. And Sly & The Family Stone were at Harlem and Woodstock, that summer of ’69.

I thoroughly recommend The Summer of Soul, which was directed by Qwestlove of The Roots. It is engrossing, exhilarating and emotional. The Guardian called it the best-ever music documentary ever, which is an excited claim. But if it isn’t, it’s certainly right up there among the best.

This mix is bringing together performances by soul acts from 1972 (the first six tracks are from the Wattstax and PUSH events) to 1985 (Maze featuring Frankie Beverley). In that way, it’s a festival across ages. I think the concept works well, and I probably will compile more such mixes for my pleasure. If this mix is getting a good reaction, I shall share those too.

As always, the mix is timed to fit on as standard CD-R, includes home-encored covers, and the above text in illustrated PDF format. PW in comments.

1. Isaac Hayes – Theme From Shaft (Los Angeles, 1973)
2. Isaac Hayes – Soulsville (Los Angeles, 1973)
3. The Staple Singers – Respect Yourself (Los Angeles, 1973)
4. The Main Ingredient – Everybody Plays The Fool (Chicago, 1973)
5. The Temptations – Papa Was A Rolling Stone (Chicago, 1973)
6. Rufus Thomas – The Breakdown (Los Angeles, 1973)
7. Curtis Mayfield – Superfly (Chicago, 1973)
8. Bill Withers – Ain’t No Sunshine (New York, 1972)
9. Earth, Wind & Fire – Shining Star (1975)
10. Earth, Wind & Fire – Devotion (1975)
11. Maze feat. Frankie Beverley – Before I Let Go (Los Angeles, 1985)
12. Maze feat. Frankie Beverley – Joy And Pain (Los Angeles, 1985)
13. Al Jarreau – We’re In This Love Together (London, 1984)
14. Al Jarreau & Randy Crawford – Your Precious Love (Montreux, 1981)
15. Randy Crawford & Yellowjackets – Imagine (Montreux, 1981)
16. Rufus and Chaka Khan – Stay (New York, 1982)
17. Rufus and Chaka Khan – What Cha’ Gonna Do For Me (New York, 1982)

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More CD-R Mixes
More 1970s Soul
More 1980s Soul