Martin McCarrick on David Bowie, Ashes to Ashes, and his first Cabaret Vs Cancer charity performance
- 10 hours ago
- 4 min read
Musician, composer, and former member of Siouxsie and the Banshees, Martin McCarrick, recounts his first experience of Ashes to Ashes, our David Bowie-inspired cabaret. From the extraordinary performers he met backstage to why the evening became unexpectedly personal, read his reflection on taking part in our charity performance.

If our love song could fly over mountains
I knew next to nothing about Ashes to Ashes, or Cabaret vs Cancer, when its Creative Director, Sean 'Magic' Mooney, approached me in January 2026 and asked if I would take part in the July show at Wilton’s Music Hall. We chatted for about ten minutes, but I came away with a good feeling about Sean, the sort of feeling that tells you, without quite knowing why, that something is meant to be. So, I said yes. I had no idea what to expect, and absolutely no idea what I would perform.
As it turns out, Ashes to Ashes is the most wonderful celebration imaginable. Cabaret, performance, and the music of David Bowie, all brought together in support of Cabaret vs Cancer, a charity helping those living with, and affected by cancer. How could I possibly say no?
On the day
Fast forward to July, and I arrive at Wilton’s Music Hall on what turns out to be the hottest day of the year.
“Don’t worry,” I’m told, “the venue has air conditioning”. There is a pause then “the dressing rooms do not”.
I’m taken backstage to meet my dressing roomies for the next two nights - Em Brulee, Dusty Limits, Diamond Dahlia, and Donna Ponderosa. I feel very aware that my name is extraordinarily dull in comparison to their exotic titles. They are so welcoming, that almost immediately, it feels less like an event and more like a family gathering involving an extraordinary amount of make-up, feathers, sequins, corsetry and some very serious eyelash application.
As the newest member of the tribe, I’m treated as though I’ve been there forever, and conversation flows, make-up is offered, stories exchanged, corsets tightened, lashes glued, and pouts perfected. There is an ease and warmth to it all that I find strangely moving.
Backstage at Wilton’s Music Hall
Meandering about the venue, I discover that most of the front-of-house staff and backstage crew are performers themselves, although tonight they have willingly stepped into supporting roles. Everyone mucks in. There is no hierarchy, no demands, no histrionics. Everyone simply knows why they are here.
Benjamin Louche possesses something of a modern-day Klaus Nomi quality, introducing the evening with exactly the right amount of theatricality. What follows is, quite frankly, jaw-dropping. The calibre of talent on display here is extraordinary, and I find myself repeatedly blown away by the performances. Even more remarkable is that the show has been put together with almost no rehearsal, yet somehow unfolds with the precision and confidence of a show that has been in production for weeks.

I have rarely worked within such a professional set-up. From stage management and soundcheck, to the business of getting the performers on and off stage (notoriously difficult in many circumstances, but not here) everything is slick, calm and seamless. It is just glorious.
The poignant message behind this vibrant cabaret
But let’s not forget why we are here.
Cancer has touched us all. My sister survived breast cancer, but I lost my father, then my brother, and several friends have also been taken far too soon. When Rose Thorne takes to the stage to speak about Cabaret vs Cancer, it becomes clear just how much work happens behind the scenes, and how much of it is driven by people giving their time, energy, and talent simply because they want to help others.
Rose mentions that the charity has donated £100,000 (take a moment to let that figure sink in) to St Joseph’s Hospice in Hackney.
It is at that moment that I feel I understand why I’ve been brought here. St Joseph’s is where my beautiful friend, Jan Deluxe, was cared for with such kindness, dignity and love during her final days. And more recently, it was where my old clubbing buddy, Pam Hogg, hung up her costumes for the last time. Suddenly, the evening feels personal in a way I hadn't anticipated.
In the song Absolute Beginners, Bowie sings:
“And if our love song could fly over mountains, sail over heartache, just like the films….”
We can never fully escape the heartache that cancer brings. We can’t make sense of the loss, nor undo the pain, but perhaps sometimes we can choose what we do with that pain. Shows like Ashes to Ashes, and the extraordinary work of Cabaret vs Cancer, transform grief into something generous. They create moments of joy in the face of sorrow, community where there is isolation, and hope when hope seems in such short supply.
And maybe that is what cabaret does at its very best. It gathers us together, dresses us up, turns on the lights, lets the music play, and reminds us, for one glorious night, that we are still here.



Comments