Friday, November 05, 2004

RIP Dancing John Peel

I can't for the life of me recall which band recorded a little link for John Peel's "Sounds Of The 70s" show, which went something like:

Dancing John Peel
He's a real big deal
And he's oh so real.


...but real he certainly was. And now he's gone. Three generations of rock fans had their tastes and attitudes to pop and rock music irrevocably widened and honed by Peelie's shows; what the hell is the next generation going to do?

I was on holiday in St.Ives when I heard the news last week. Standing in a surf shop looking at the gaudy surf-shirts selecting my annual Tasteless Shirt purchase, bopping and choogling gently to the rather nifty choon coming from the speakers. The song ended, cueing in a burbling Radio 1 DJ. "Blah, blah, blah, ... remembering John Peel..., blah, blah, bl...". What? The? Fuck? Everything just ended at that point. Some hours later, I noticed my wife was looking a bit odd, and asked if she was OK. "I just feel I've lost a family member", was all she said. And that just about sums it up, really. Ten days later, I still can't quite believe it.

OK - when coherence fails, cue random memories:

1971-ish. That was the year I first encountered Peel's show. It featured an excellent Bowie session - Queen Bitch, Suffragette City and Hang Onto Yourself, as I recall. In between the Bowie songs, this affably-mumbling chap talked to me in much the same way my pals and I chatted about music. He sounded like the kind of hip uncle I'd always wished I had.

1974. Our Upper-Sixth form was pretty evenly split amongst soulies and rockers (and those sad souls for whom music was irrelevant or peripheral, but they didn't exist from where I stood). The rock contingent wanted Peel to DJ at our Sixth-Form disco. The soulies would have none of it. My buddy Toad wrote to Peel to ask if he did that kind of gig. Peel wrote back with a friendly reply, saying yes, no problem. Alas, the powers-that-be wanted unanimity before booking anything, and the soulies would not budge. Neither would we. So we became the first sixth-form for years, at our school, not to have a sixth-form Christmas Disco.

From there, the years sort of merge. But Peel first turned me onto Bowie and Roxy Music; to punk rock; to Ivor Cutler; to Krautrock; to indie rock (the class of C86); to hip-hop. I look aghast at so many of my contemporaries who, by the time they entered their 30s (let alone their late 40s, where I am now), either lacked any interest in music, or had become living fossils, stuck with the same musical tastes they'd had in their early- to mid-20s. I count myself deeply fortunate and blessed that my musical tastes still continue to expand ever-faster - there are so many whole genres to explore, let alone individual bands and performers. My rate of CD-purchasing has never been greater, and the purchases are split about 30-70 between back-catalogue of already-known artists, and performers I'd never even heard, a year earlier. And it's all - ALL - down to the fine example of open-earedness and musical curiosity instilled into me by listening to the radio shows of John Peel. I generally reject heroes, but Peel remained an eternal exception.

He was my hero.

I feel bereaved, so gods know how his family must be feeling. My heart goes out to Sheila and their children.

Thanks, John, for all those decades of teenage kicks.