It was my “moment of truth”. I was introduced by José Feliciano, who said to a clearly stunned-by-Jacko audience, “And now, from London, England – Adam Ant!”. On I went for my first ever solo outing in front of the Hollywood elite. It was my intention to introduce them to a little English, cheeky sexuality, so I wanted to be almost over-the-top and melodramatic. It was the first show on my damaged knee, so I took care to use my hips and arms more than the knees as I moved. It went pretty well, I thought, and I “danced” through the instrumental middle eight, moving over to the left-hand stairway as I’d rehearsed.

Suddenly the crowd went crazy, clapping and cheering. “Christ! I’ve cracked it!” I thought. “I’m killing them”. So I got up off the stair to sing the last two verses and looked towards the centre of the stage, and there, in a tight, glittering pencil-dress, pulling her hair up over her head like a black Marilyn Monroe, was Diana Ross! My jaw hit the floor and I thought “Please, leg, don’t give up on me”. The crowd was going nuts and so was I. Somehow my shock turned to confidence, and I slinked over to the beautiful superstar, singing “I’ve got this burning, burning, yearning inside of me” into her big, brown eyes. She was really enjoying it. As I circled her, she said, “Oh yes”, and I felt like her slave. The song ended, and before I had a chance to say anything, she scooted off! I left the stage to much applause, though.
Adam Ant, Stand and Deliver [autobiography], the night he dirty danced with Diana Ross

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