Michael Hutchence, after 20 years

Twenty years ago, Alison & I and the rest of the world awoke to the news that Michael Hutchence was dead.  There was a lot of confusion with the announcement - he’d been found in a hotel, nobody quite knew what had happened, there were issues with Paula Yates and Bob Geldof - but the fact remained he was gone and it took us all a while to process that information.

Although I’d known their music since the Kick era, I didn’t see them live until the Summer XS gig at Wembley in July 1991 (which I wrote about here) and I was blown away by the experience.  When I started seeing Alison the next year, I discovered a fellow fan and together we saw them at DeMontfort Hall in Leicester in 1993 for the Get Out Of The House tour (which I wrote about here) and then at the NEC in Birmingham on the Elegantly Wasted tour.  Seeing him in the flesh, there was something about Hutchence, the way he carried himself and moved, the sheer magnetism of the man, that transcended what you were seeing.  I’d never experienced the sensation before (and haven’t since).

Michael Kelland John Hutchence was born in North Sydney, New South Wales on 22nd January 1960, his father Kelland was a businessman, his mother Patricia a make-up artist.  The family moved to Brisbane (where younger brother Rhett was born, Michael also had an older step-sister Tina) and then to Hong Kong, where an aptitude for swimming was curtailed by a broken arm.  Around this time he began to show an interest in poetry and, at 11, made a recording of Christmas carols for a toy manufacturer.

When the family returned to the Northern Beaches area of Sydney in 1972, Michael attended Davidson High School where students didn’t take kindly to his British accent and it was Andrew Farriss who broke up a fight between Hutchence and a school bully.  The became firm friends and when they discovered a mutual love of music, Michael joined Andrew’s band, Doctor Dolphin.  After Michael’s parents separated in 1975 he briefly moved to California with his mother and step-sister, before returning to Sydney and reconnecting with Andrew.

The Farriss Brothers 1977
from left - Kirk Pengilly, Jon Farriss, Tim Farriss, Michael Hutchence, Andrew Farriss, Garry Gary Beers

In 1977, Andrew and Tim Farriss decided to join forces and create a group from the remnants of their old ones with Tim on lead guitar, his former band mate Kirk Pengilly on guitar and saxophone, Garry Gary Beers on bass and younger Farriss brother Jon (who was still at high school) on the drums.  Michael, who couldn’t play an instrument, would sing.  The Farriss Brothers, as the new band was called, made their debut that year at Whale Beach on 16th August.  In 1978, Mr and Mrs Farriss moved to Perth, Western Australia and took Jon with them - when Michael and Andrew finished secondary school, they joined Kirk and Garry and drove across country to join them, aiming to give the band a chance.

"Andrew was the singer, the front guy of all these bands. I really started when he didn’t feel like singing anymore. He gave me the mike, one day and said, “Do you know this song? Just sing for a while, while we try out this drummer."

- Michael interviewed in 'Sky Magazine', UK, 1990

Ten months later, the band returned to Sydney, recorded a set of demos and supported Midnight Oil on the pub rock circuit.  They also changed their name to INXS (on the advice of the Oils manager Gary Morris) and made their debut at the Oceanview Hotel in Toukley on 1st September 1979 where, even then, Hutchence stood out as journalist Jenny Hunter Brown wrote, “[he] echoes the late Jim Morrison, he’s fit [and] a fine dancer.”

Gaining a manager, Chris Murphy, they released their first single Simple Simon/We Are The Vegetables in May 1980 followed by their debut album INXS (which I wrote about here) which appeared that October.  Their first top 40 Australian hit, Just Keep Walking, was released in September.

The band’s second album, Underneath The Colours, was released in October 1981 (touring commitments meant they began work on it in the July of that year and had finished it by August).  At the time, Hutchence said, “Most of the songs on [it] were written in a relatively short space of time. Most bands shudder at the prospect of having 20 years to write their first album and four days to write their second. For us, though, it was good. It left less room for us to go off on all sorts of tangents”.

"We played every bar, party, pub, hotel lounge, church hall, mining town - places that made Mad Max territory look like a Japanese garden."

- Michael interviewed in the 'Sun Herald', Australia, 1993

Shabooh Shoobah was released in October 1982 and the single, The One Thing, gave them their first top 30 hit in the US charts and, crucially, was their first video to show on MTV.  They toured the album in the US, supporting a variety of acts and gaining ever more exposure.  The Swing was released in April 1984 and included the Nile Rodgers produced Original Sin (which I wrote about here) that became their first number one hit and did well around the world, except for the UK where it was largely ignored.  After touring Europe, the UK, the US and Australia for most of 1984, the band recorded Listen Like Thieves with producer Chris Thomas in March 1985 (which I wrote about here) for release that October.

With Michelle Bennett in 1985

At the 1985 Countdown Awards in May, Michael shared for “Best Songwriter” with Andrew and walked away with “Most Popular Male”.  In July, INXS performed at the Oz for Africa concert (in conjunction with Live Aid).

In 1986, he starred as Sam in Dogs In Space, written and directed by longtime INXS video collaborator Richard Lowenstein and provided vocals for four songs on the soundtrack, including Rooms For The Memory.  Before starting work on their next album, INXS toured the country with Australian Made, featuring alongside Jimmy Barnes, Models, Divinyls, Mental As Anything, The Triffids and I’m Talking.  Barnes collaborated with INXS on a cover of Good Times which later featured on The Lost Boys soundtrack.
By now, Michael was living in Hong Kong so he & Andrew between them wrote all the songs for the next album on separate continents.  Again produced by Chris Thomas, Kick (which I wrote about here) was released in October 1987 and took the band to worldwide popularity, becoming a top 10 hit in Australia (no. 1), the US (no. 3) and the UK (no. 9).  Accompanied by well made videos (Hutchence was a natural on film and even though the band was always stressed as being six blokes, he got the lions share of attention) that enraptured MTV, the band toured the album heavily during 1987 and 1988 and, in that year, it swept the MTV Video Music Awards (Need You Tonight/Mediate won in five categories).

INXS were on top of the world and Michael was increasingly popular, a fact helped by his being good at his job.  Ian McFarlane wrote in the Encyclopedia of Australian Rock and Pop, “He was the archetypal rock showman. He exuded an overtly sexual, macho cool with his flowing locks, and lithe and exuberant stage movements.”  Lowenstein said, in interview, “"He would flirt with everybody - women or waiters in restaurants [and] he had a magnetic effect on men as well as women, [helped by] the direct eye contact that he gave everyone. He wanted to seduce everyone, if not physically then metaphysically.”

Jenny Morris, a longtime friend of the band who provided backing vocals for The Swing and Listen Like Thieves, said in interview, "People assume Michael was nothing but this big-headed rock star but he never became that.  He was always incredibly interested in other people, no matter how big a celebrity he was.  There's a reason why men and women loved Michael - it was because he gave everyone the time of day.  He'd look you in the eye and you knew that he was listening to you and that he was interested in what you were saying."

The Kick era
from left - Andrew Farriss, Jon Farriss, Kirk Pengilly, Michael Hutchence, Tim Farriss, Garry Gary Beers

On a band break following the end of the Kick tour, Michael collaborated with Ollie Olsen on the Max Q project and also appeared in Roger Corman’s Frankenstein Unbound, directed by Roger Corman.

Having always enjoyed the company of women - Michael shared a 10-year relationship with Michelle Bennett and they were still close when he died - as his popularly increased, so did the attention on his private life, which he found difficult to understand.  That only increased when he began dating Kylie Minogue, accompanying her to the premiere of her 1989 film The Delinquets (for which she wore a platinum blonde wig - apparently, Suicide Blonde was written with her in mind).  Kylie later said of their romance, “I guess I was at the perfect age, I was 21 years old, to get the butterfly wings and go out into the world and we collided at that time and I guess he just fast-tracked some of it. Anyway, it was a glorious time, [he was] responsible for so many firsts. I loved it.”  For his part, Michael said, "She's a really bright, really nice person. And I certainly didn't corrupt her. If anything, our relationship made her more independent.”  Although they split up amidst press reports of his womanising, they remained good friends until his death.

With Kylie Minogue (left) and Helena Christensen

INXS released X in September 1990 and, although a big success with two hit singles (Suicide Blonde and Disappear), it wasn’t as popular as Kick.  In July 1991 the band headlined the Summer XS gig at Wembley stadium and Michael won ‘Best International Artist’ at the 1991 Brit Awards, with INXS taking ‘Best International Group’.  Whilst dating Kylie, the photographer Herb Ritts introduced Michael to Danish model Helena Christensen in 1991 and they began a relationship that would last for four years and was, by all accounts, solid and committed.

Summer XS, Wembley Stadium, July 1991

Welcome To Wherever You Are was released in August 1992 and although it received good reviews (I really enjoyed it), it wasn’t as commercially successful as its predecessors and the band didn’t tour it.  The same year, riding a bicycle home from a Copenhagen nightclub, he was involved in an incident with a taxi driver, which ended with him falling and hitting his head.  Michael waited several days before seeing a doctor and, a result, his fractured skull and severed nerves left him with only about 10% of his senses of taste and smell.

“Ever since the accident, he was on a slow decline,” said Richard Lowenstein in interview.  “One night in Melbourne, he broke down and sobbed in my arms, saying ‘I can’t even taste my girlfriend any more’.  For someone who was such a sensual being, this loss of primary senses affected his notion of place in the world and, I believe, damaged his psyche.”  In an effort to keep on top of increasing bouts of depression, Michael became reliant on Prozac, growing increasingly sensitive to criticism and conflict.  Whilst recording on the Isle of Capri, Michael was said to be difficult to deal with emotionally and at one point threatened to kill bandmate Garry Gary Beers who later said, “over those six weeks, Michael threatened or physically confronted nearly every member of the band.”  Lowenstein said, “I’d never seen any evidence of depression, erratic behaviour or violent temper before [the accident].  I saw all those things after it.”

"I get pretty terrified, to be honest, when I’m on tour. You really have to muster a lot of ego to go out there, which I find rather draining. In fact you have to muster an enormous ego to go out and be bigger than a huge crowd of people. It’s hard enough to do that with four or five people, let alone 20,000. You know sometimes I just want to curl up on stage and lie there for a while - it’s weird."

- Michael interviewed in 'Sky Magazine', UK, 1990

With Paula Yates and Tiger Lily

Full Moon, Dirty Hearts was released in November 1993 and struggled to find its place in a music world increasingly focused on grunge.  The band took time off, though Michael remained in the public eye as he started work on a solo album.  His relationship with Christensen ended when he renewed a friendship with Paula Yates, which began in 1985 when she interviewed him on The Tube.  She interviewed him again in 1994 on The Big Breakfast and they began an affair, ending her long marriage to Bob Geldof, who was still highly regarded by the British media.  Scrutiny was intense, Michael assaulted a paparazzi photographer and the bitter custody battle between Yates and Geldof was held very publicly.  They divorced in May 1996, two months before she gave birth to Michael’s only child, Heavenly Hiraani Tiger Lily who he described as “just what we ordered”.

INXS reconvened in April 1996 to work on the band’s 10th official album, after a greatest hits which was released in October 1994.  Elegantly Wasted, recorded in Canada, was released in April 1997and enjoyed less commercial success than Full Moon, Dirty Hearts had (though I thought it was far superior).  INXS went on a 20th anniversary world tour to support it (we saw them at the NEC on 17th June), the final leg being a homecoming series of dates in Australia in November and December.  By then, however, relations between Yates and Geldof (over custody) and Geldof and Michael (the latter convinced he and Yates would lose Tiger Lily, following the discovery of opium in their London home) were getting worse.  Depression was eating at Hutchence from other sources too - the falling success of the band, his estrangement with his mother, a sense that that there was a gulf between him and his bandmates (most of whom had settled down in Australia) and a growing sense that, creatively speaking, INXS had peaked.

He arrived in Sydney on Tuesday 18th November, checking into the Ritz Carlton in Double Bay and met his bandmates for rehearsals on the Thursday and Friday, the latter of which were filmed.  After taking his dad to dinner, he went back to the hotel and met an old girlfriend, Kym Wilson, there with her new partner.  Reportedly stressed because Geldof had refused Paula permission to bring two of their daughters to Australia for the Christmas period, there were angry phone calls between the two men, before he rang his New York agent, Martha Troup and Michelle Bennett.  Although his first call to Bennett was missed, she picked up the second, at 9.54am.  Hutchence was crying and wanted to see her, so she went to the hotel, arriving at 10.40am but he didn’t answer.  Assuming he’d either gone out or gone to bed she left a note at reception for him and went home.

Michael’s body was discovered by a hotel maid at 11.50am on 22nd November 1997.  He was 37 years old.

When his death was announced later that day, it came as a shock to most and, sadly, the British tabloids went into meltdown with Michael quickly became known more for seducing Kylie Minogue and stealing Paula Yates from ‘Saint’ Bob than his music.

His funeral was held at St Andrew’s Cathedral on 27th November, his coffin carried in by his INXS bandmates and brother Rhett.  Cremated at Northern Suburbs Crematorium in Sydney, his bizarre family situation - estranged from his mother and step-sister and with Paula Yates making some terrible decisions in her grief - meant his ashes were divided between his dad, mum and Paula & Tiger Lily.  His INXS friends joined his father, brother, Michelle Bennett and other old friends on a yacht in Sydney Harbour on 21st January 1998 - what would have been his 38th birthday - where, after swapping stories and as a Maori singer sang Amazing Grace, his father and brother tipped Michael’s ashes overboard.

On 6th February 1998, after an autopsy and inquest, the New South Wales State Coroner Derrick Hand presented his report which ruled Michael’s death was a suicide, while depressed and under the influence of alcohol and other drugs.

His solo album, Michael Hutchence, was released in October 1999 and included the song Slide Away, a duet with old friend Bono, whose vocals were recorded after Michael’s death.

Paula Yates died on 17th September 2000 of an accidental heroin overdose, her body discovered by 4-year-old Tiger.  Bob Geldof filed for custody and, despite proceedings organised by Michael’s mother and step-sister, gained it, allowing Tiger to grow up with her half-sisters.

Kelland Hutchence died of cancer on 12th December 2002 while Patricia (since remarried) died of cancer on 21st September 2010.



Sources:
"Death Of A Rock Star" in The Independent
Wikipedia
Story To Story: The Official Biography, by INXS and Anthony Bozza

For Tracy

Sometimes, things happen that really take the wind out of your sails.  Sometimes you lose people that mean a great deal to you and it's hard to comprehend that they're not there any more.  Sometimes things happen and you still, years later, can't understand them.

But sometimes, maybe, we can keep those people with us a little longer by ensuring their memory lives on and burns brightly...

Family party in 1981 - my cousin Carl on the left.  I'm not swinging a punch, I've got one of those weird 'magic fish' things on my arm.

On the anniversary of my sister passing away

Junior school photo - 1979

12 years - where did all that time go?

With Mum, Sarah and Auntie Lynn (who was visiting from South Africa), 1987

Thinking of you, TJ.

For Tracy

Tracy and me, Ingoldmells, 1977

On this anniversary of my sister passing away.

Thinking of you, TJ.

INXS Friday - for Michael Hutchence

Tomorrow, November 22nd 2014, marks the 17th anniversary of the death of Michael Hutchence, lead singer of my favourite band INXS.  As I mentioned in a previous post (see here), I can still remember clearly hearing the news on the radio that morning and not quite believing it - he was dead, how could that be?

I was lucky enough to get to a few of their concerts (I'm in the crowd at Wembley Summer XS and Alison & I saw them at The DeMonfort in 1993 (which I blogged about here) and at the NEC in 1997).  We've seen the band twice since (at the NEC again with Jon Stevens and on Clapham Common with J.D. Fortune) but neither worked for me - Hutchence was too integral to the band for it to work without him, I reckon and it's only their pre-1997 music that moves me.

1997.  17 years before that, it was 1980, I was eleven and hadn't heard of them.  Neither had too many other people outside of Australia, though the band formed in 1977 (as The Farriss Brothers).  As it was, INXS released their first single, "Simple Simon"/"We Are the Vegetables", in Australia and France in May 1980, following it up with their debut album - INXS - released in Australia on 13 October 1980.  It was recorded at Trafalgar Studios in Annandale, Sydney and co-produced by the band and Duncan McGuire, with all the songs attributed to the entire band (at the insistence of manager Chris Murphy).  Deluxe Records gave them $10,000 to make the whole album, meaning that to keep within budget they had to record between midnight and dawn (often after playing live shows earlier in the evening).

The album featured "Just Keep Walking" (which was their first Australian Top 40 single) and eventually went gold (selling over 35,000 units) but it took a good few years to do so.


I like the album, with its New Wave-ska-pop style but Alison isn't so keen and she's not alone...

I'm not a great fan of the first album. It's naïve and kinda cute, almost. It's these young guys struggling for a sound. All I can hear is what was going to happen later and it's probably an interesting album because of that. "Just Keep Walking" was the first time we thought we'd written a song. And that became an anthem around town. It's funny, I remember kids in pubs saying it and hearing it on the radio the first time. We'd never heard that before.

- Michael Hutchence,

as quoted in "Burn : The life and times of Michael Hutchence and INXS" (Bantam Books)

17 years ago, Michael Hutchence passed away.  17 years before that, INXS were starting on the road that would lead - for a time - to world domination in music.  It still doesn't feel that far away.

And this has nothing to do with 1980 or 1997 but comes from "Later With...Jools Holland" in 1994, with Hutchence, Andrew Farriss (on piano) and Kirk Pengilly (sax) performing a beautifully stripped down version of "Never Tear Us Apart"

RIP, good sir.

Goodbye Sue Townsend, RIP

Late last night, Sue Townsend passed away at her home following a short illness.  She hailed from Leicester (sequences of the original Adrian Mole TV show were filmed there) and although I never got to meet her (I wish I had), her writing really spoke to me.  I read "The Secret Diary Of Adrian Mole, aged 13 3/4" in 1983, when I was thirteen - and it was brilliant, funny, sad and a work of genius (plus it had the lovely Pandora Braithwaite).

There's nothing else to say except that in 2012, as part of the Adrian Mole 30th anniversary, I re-read the original novel and it's sequel and went to an exhibition of her papers at the University of Leicester with Dude and our friend David Roberts.  And since she was a great writer, maybe that's the best memorial we can give her, to remember the joy of reading that she gave us (and think of all those people who picked up this book as the first one they chose for themselves, leading them - perhaps - to a lifetimes joy of the written word).

The Secret Diary Of Adrian Mole, aged 13 ¾
Starting in 1981, this follows Adrian Mole from being the eponymous age to his fifteenth birthday, detailing every incident in his life over that period.

I first read this in 1983 (making me the same age as Mole - in the book, he mentions that his father is 41 making me 2 years older as I re-read it) and it’s just as bright, inventive and funny today as I remember it being back then.  From his complete self-absorption - he faithfully reports on his parents marriage breakdown, without realising what’s going on - to his obsession with spots, from his trying friendships to first love with the enigmatic and beautiful Pandora Braithwaite, this is as accurate a portrayal of a teenaged boy as I can remember reading (I’ve kept a diary since 1981 and sometimes Adrian’s entries could have been lifted my mine).

Funny, poignant and never less than readable, this is highly recommended.

The Growing Pains Of Adrian Mole
Picking up the day after “The Secret Diary” ended, this volume contains plenty of turmoil in Adrian’s life - his mum and Stick Insect are both pregnant, which leads to the break-up of his parents marriage, there’s paternity issues on his sister Rosie (rat fink Lucas maintains she is his), his relationship with Pandora hits the rocks and he briefly ends up in Baz’s street gang, before running away to Manchester.

Slightly darker in tone than the first volume - the Falklands War is dealt with well - Adrian’s typical self-absorption means that it’s up to the reader to put together what’s happening and that helps the story well.

Still a lot of fun - with the added bonus to me that there are several references to my locale, namely on a Skegness holiday, their friend comes from Corby and one of Adrian’s letters is delayed when the mail train gets derailed in Kettering - this is a cracking read and very much recommended.

The following photo's were taken by David and myself at the University of Leicester, 27th October 2012.

originally called Nigel Mole

Wonderful artwork

Introducing a new audience...

RIP, Sue Townsend, you will be missed.


source - http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-26982680

In memory of Tracy, after ten years

Ten years, in terms of anything, is a long time.  People look back over decades and think ‘wow, is that when it happened?’ and then they wonder how that time could pass by so quickly.  I think that often.

It was ten years ago that I was sitting in the canteen at work with a colleague, when the telephone rang.  It was Mum.  She told me she had bad news and I paused, expecting to hear something about my Gran having fallen over or something.  But it was much worse than that.  Mum told me that she was at Leicester hospital, walking back to the car with my Dad and that my sister Tracy was dead. She was 32.

Tracy was two years younger than me and I think we spent most of our childhood (and a good chunk of our teens) fighting like cat and dog, though we were also fiercely protective of one another.  She developed MS late, a few months into 2003 and suffered upwards of six relapses as the year wore on.

An active person - she was a riding instructress - I can’t imagine how awful the lengthy hospital stays must have been for her, but I never really heard her complain about it.  At the time, Alison & I were trying for a child and Tracy kept track of our appointments at the hospital, asking how things were going and trying to gee us up as each month passed. Visiting her at Leicester Infirmary was often a difficult experience - I loved to make her laugh and would do pretty much anything in the pursuit of that - and it was painful to see her try and do things as her body rebelled against her.

But things seemed to be improving - we saw her on the Sunday and she was sitting up in bed, bright and lucid and Mum & Dad found the same thing on the Monday evening.  We had high hopes for these signs of recovery but on the morning of November 25th, 2003 (my Dad’s 60th birthday), she collapsed beside her bed.  The cause of death was later given as a pulmonary embolism.

I left work, got Alison and we went straight to Mum & Dad’s house that day.  Our younger sister Sarah was in Derby at Uni at the time so I drove us all up there to deliver the news. We arrived just before she got home and she got out of her car and seemed excited, as if we’d all gone up to see her for Dad’s birthday. Until Dad went across the road and told her the real reason.

Tracy’s funeral service was held in the Parish church in Rothwell - I’ve never seen so many people in there - and I read the eulogy. The burial was held at the little cemetery on the edge of town and it was a cold, dank day. Afterwards, we went back to the Trinity Centre for tea and some food. Nick was with us (he and Tracy got on really well), staying overnight at ours and supervising the taped music at the service. At the wake, he busied himself making sure that everyone had a drink and something to eat, whilst the rest of us just seemed to reel around and try to connect with people.

Since then, Dad hasn’t been keen to celebrate his birthday, which is understandable and instead we have a quiet gathering of the family, which has grown in ten years - Sarah married Chris and they had Lucy & Milly, we had Dude.  A lot has happened since then but it really does seem like only yesterday.

I miss Tracy a lot, as do Mum & Dad and Sarah and Alison.  Matthew never met her but he knows who she was and what she meant to me and he keeps an eye out for Snoopy stuff because he knows she loved it.

That’s all I can do, I think - talk about her and make sure that her memory continues to burn brightly and I will try and do that forever.

Ten years and gone too soon, I miss you Tracy.

Alison, Mum, Tracy and Dad, on the London Eye, March 2003

Lest We Forget

For details on the Royal British Legion poppy appeal, click here

Ray Harryhausen

Raymond Frederick "Ray" Harryhausen passed away yesterday, he was 92.  A well-known and well respected animator, he created the form of stop-motion model animation known as "Dynamation"

In the glory days before CGI meant we could see anything and not believe a bit of it, his work - from "The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms" via several Sinbad, various Flying Saucers and dinosaurs - was never less than superb.  True, the films they appeared in might have lacked occasionally in terms of acting and directing but the effects, the real reason we watched them, were awe-inspiring.

He leaves behind a legacy that has informed cinema (and other branches of the arts) and will continue to do so.  His league of admirers is wide and varied and I’m one of those.  As a kid, I fell in love with stop-motion animation and that is still with me today, I awed at what Harryhausen brought to the screen and I marvelled at how wonderful it looked.

There are many different sequences that I could pick out to end this little memorial but I’ll go with the one that means the most to me.  In fact, I would be prepared to argue, with graphs and quotes and everything else, that the skeleton attack in “Jason & The Argonauts” is the single best special effects sequence in the history of movies. Bar none.


RIP good sir and rest assured of your legacy, awakening a love of thrills and fantasy and stop motion animation in generations of kids.

Ray Harryhausen (June 29, 1920 – May 7, 2013)

The Passage of time

Today is my lovely Dad’s 69th birthday, we’ve bought him gifts, we’ve got him cards but apart from a small cake, we won’t be celebrating in as much style as I’d like to.

Today is the 9th anniversary of my sister Tracy passing away.  Sometimes it doesn’t feel like nine years since I had that phone call at work, from Mum who was standing in the car park at Leicester, red raw with emotion and running on sorrow and fear and grief.  Other times it does - we now have Dude, Lucy and baby Milly, Sarah is married to Chris, we’re back in Rothwell - but neither state seems or feels right.

Today I shall celebrate the life of my Dad, who is the nicest, kindest man I know and I shall mourn the passing of my sister, who was my constant companion - and often bitter enemy - through my childhood.

Most of all, I’ll give thanks to the fact that I’m part of a loving, warm and incredibly supportive family, who picked me up when I needed it and allowed me to try and pick them up when they needed it too.  Happy birthday to my Dad, a million hugs and kisses and warm thoughts to my beloved Mum & Dad on this day and a hug to my sister, gone but never forgotten.

Us outside Madame Tussauds, March 2003 (Sarah didn't make the trip)

RIP, Jan

I consider myself a lucky man in that I have three best friends - of these, the most longstanding is Nick. We met on the first day at Rothwell Juniors, in September 1976 - my parents had just moved us from Corby to Rothwell, I knew nobody and I was sat next to him by the teacher.

We got on like a house on fire and remained friends throughout our school career and beyond (we’re meeting him and his wife Jane for the day when we go on holiday in August). I spoke to him today and ended the call with a smile on my face and tears in my eyes. Jan, his Mum, passed away this morning.

Childhood was slightly different in the 70s and 80s than it is today. During summer holidays, we’d wave goodbye to our Mum’s and go off in search of adventure, without a phone, without any money, often without a Roughneck flask. But when we wanted to be fed, we went to whoever’s house was closest.

Nick’s Mum & Dad were craftspeople - Alan is a skilled carpenter who could fashion anything out of a bit of wood, working with no seeming regard for what he was doing, until he showed you a small mouse on a delicate ear of corn. Jan was likewise talented, creating beautiful handmade flowers (she made Alison’s bouquet on our wedding day, plus the button holes).

Jan was a big hearted lady, in every sense of the word. She was kind and gregarious, warm and caring and nothing ever seemed to be too much trouble. My Mum is the best lady in the world, of course, but if I’d had to choose a “Mum 2”, Jan would have got the job. During those schoolboy summers, as my Mum did to Nick, Jan fed and watered me, taught me card games, made me laugh and always looked after us - I don’t think I ever heard her say a cross word. Later, once we’d discovered the joys of pubs and nightclubs, we’d often stay over at their house, watching Night Network and having a laugh, before getting up in the morning to bacon sandwiches.

When Alison & I got married - Nick was my Best Man, as I’d been his - Jan stood by proudly, both because of us boys and also because she and Alison had quickly developed a mutual love for one another.

The Duncan’s moved to France not long after that, so we didn’t see them as much as I’d have liked, but we still spoke and saw them around when they were back visiting family. Alan rang me late last year, to say that Jan wasn’t very well and I kept up with the news through Nick and his brother Chris, via phone, emails and Facebook.

I can only imagine how Nick and Chris, let alone Alan, feel today and I wish there was something I could do. They showed great strength and friendship to us when we lost Tracy and I only hope that I can do the same.

Jan Duncan was a genuinely lovely woman and she will be sorely missed by everyone who knew her. I just wish I could have said goodbye.


Playing cards, as often happened when you went to visit Jan & Alan.
Me, Alison, Jan and Nick, August 2000

RIP, Jan.

Donna Summer, Disco Queen - RIP

As we sat down to dinner this evening, I put the radio on (we generally listen to CDs) and caught the six o’clock news. The last item caught my attention, something about Donna Summer and Simon Mayo confirmed it when he came back on air. Donna Summer died today, of cancer.

I never saw her live and the music she released when I was aware of her (apart from “Dinner With Gershwin”) was the Stock, Aitken & Waterman stuff that I didn’t like. The Donna I enjoyed was the one who came out in the middle of the disco wave, working with Giorgio Moroder and letting rip with that tremendous voice over his electronic shenanigans.

In the late 80s, I used to go 2nd hand record buying in Leicester with my friend Craig and one of our usual haunts was a place called Boogaloo Records (it’s not there any longer). They sold pretty much everything, at a good price and I picked up most of Donna Summer’s back catalogue from there, a lot of them gatefold sleeves, almost all of them featuring one track that pretty much lasted a side.

The first album of hers I got was “I Remember Yesterday” and listening to it now, it transports me back to that wonderful 1987 summer - I was driving a car that didn’t keep breaking down, it seemed to be sunny all the time, I was enjoying life, I fell in love - and it makes me smile. I played that LP so often I wore it out (though I now have it on CD) and had to buy another.

A little later, on a trip to Kings Lynn, I picked up a biography of her (which I re-read a couple of years ago) and continued to explore her music, falling completely for “MacArthur Park” and it’s beautiful arrangement that served her voice perfectly.

Donna Summer had a tremendous voice and the world is a little diminished today, for having lost that. The Disco Queen Is Dead, Long Live The Disco Queen. RIP.


This is the song she’s probably best known for - I like it (it appeared on “I Remember Yesterday” and closed the album) but it’s not my favourite.



This is almost my favourite



This is my favourite, a beautiful love song.

My sister

Tomorrow, the 25th, is my Dad’s birthday - he’s a sprightly pensioner now, his life more full of activity than when he was gainfully employed and he has a great time chasing around after his two grandchildren. We’ll visit him tonight, to give him his cards and gifts and wish him all the best.

Tomorrow, the 25th, my kid sister Sarah & I will go up to the cemetery, just on the edge of town and put flowers on our sister Tracy’s grave. It’ll be the eighth anniversary of her passing, which doesn’t feel like any time at all, until you think about everything that has happened since.

When Tracy passed away in 2003, Alison & I were trying for a baby and now we’re the exceptionally proud parents of Matthew, who’s 6 years old and as bright as a button. He’s the best thing I’ve ever created in my life and I’m sure Tracy would have loved him. He knows all about her, he’s seen her pictures, watched her in the wedding video, we talk about her, but there’s a constant nagging sadness that neither of them got to meet. I’m sure they’d have got on brilliantly - I’m convinced of it, in fact - but it wasn’t to be. Likewise, Tracy never got to meet Lucy, my god-daughter and niece, who is a beautiful and lovely two-year-old. Nor did see get to see Sarah graduate from university, meet Chris and get married. Worse, she never got to see how well my parents coped (in a situation that is almost unfathomable in its horror), how strong they were and how determined to keep moving forward - to remain as wonderful parents to me & Sarah and superb grandparents for Matthew & Lucy.

Time does ease pain and scars do heal over, but at certain points of the year, that time is rolled back and those scars are re-exposed. Tomorrow is that day for us.

It’s been eight years, but I remember that awful phone call as if it was yesterday. I wish I didn’t have to hear it, I wish my Mum hadn’t had to make it.

RIP, Tracy, never forgotten.

In Memory of my sister, after 7 years

It was seven years ago today that I got the phone call from Mum. I was at work, sitting in the canteen with my workmate. Mum told me that she had bad news and I paused, expecting to hear something about my Gran having fallen over or something.

Instead, Mum told me that she was at Leicester hospital, walking back to the car with my Dad and that my sister Tracy was dead. She was 32.

Tracy was two years younger than me and we fought like cat and dog during childhood (and into our teens too!), but were fiercely protective of one another. She developed MS late on in life, at the start of 2003 and suffered upwards of six relapses. She had to endure lengthy stays in hospital, which must have been awful for her - she was an active person, into horse-riding and spending time with us all and she was confined to bed and unable to do a lot of things for herself - but I never really heard her complain. At the time, Alison & I were desperately trying for a child and Tracy kept track of our appointments at the hospital, asking how things went and trying to gee us up as each month passed. Going to see her in hospital was a difficult experience - I loved to make her laugh and would do pretty much anything in the pursuit of that, but it was painful to see her try and do things as her body rebelled against her.

Tracy collapsed on the morning of November 25th, 2003, Dad’s 60th birthday. The cause of death was later given as a pulmonary embolism. I didn’t know what to say or to do and Alison & I went straight to Mum & Dad’s house that day. Sarah, at the time, was in Derby at Uni so I drove us all up there to deliver the news. We arrived just before she got home and she got out of her car and seemed excited, as if we’d all gone up there to see her for Dad’s birthday. Until Dad went across the road, crying and told her the real reason.

Tracy’s funeral service was held in the Parish church in Rothwell - I’ve never seen so many people in there - and I read the eulogy. The burial was held at the little cemetery on the edge of town and it was a cold, dank day. Afterwards, we went back to the old Sunday School buildings (now the Trinity Centre) for tea and some food. Nick was with us (he and Tracy got on really well), staying overnight at ours and supervising the taped music at the service. At the wake, he busied himself making sure that everyone had a drink and something to eat, whilst the rest of us just seemed to reel around and try to connect with people.

We’re meeting at Mum & Dad’s tonight - me & Alison & Matthew and Sarah & Chris & Lucy - and it’s not a birthday party (as Dad is keen to point out), but more a family gathering. I can’t believe it’s seven years - so much has happened since then, but it seems like only yesterday.

I still miss Tracy a lot, as do Mum & Dad and Sarah and Alison. Matthew obviously never met her, but he knows who she is and that’s the main thing, I think, to make sure that her memory continues to burn brightly.

RIP TJ

Tracy, Dad, Mum, me, Alison
Outside Madame Tusseads, London, March 2003 (before the MS kicked in)

Sad News

Before I met Alison, way back in 1992, I spent a year in a relationship with a lady called Liz, who had a daughter Emma, who was about 2. When Liz and I split, it was amicable and we still speak when we meet up and I’m proud of that. A downside, obviously, was that I didn’t see much of Emma any more.

When “Conjure” came out, I corresponded with Emma briefly through Facebook – Liz is apparently a Luddite, who hadn’t joined up – and by then, she was looking ahead to the future, planning on working at an outdoors activity centre in Scotland. I wished her well, she wished me well, we said goodbye.

I got an email today from Sue Moorcroft, my writing chum who – unbeknownst to us when we first met – was a mutual friend with Liz. The email was titled “Sad News” and that was spot on. Emma died yesterday. We’re still unsure of the details, but it appears she was working at an outdoor activity centre, doing what she loved and fell.

I have no words, other than to say my heart and thoughts go out to Liz, Glen and their daughter Bronte at this terribly sad time. It’s never good when anyone dies, but somebody who’s just into their twenties, just about to start out on life, well, it’s simply just not right.

RIP, Emma.

Another exit

Heard on the radio yesterday that J D Salinger has died, aged 91. I've read two of his books, the novel and "Franny & Zooey" and neither of them for the best part of 20 years, but the man had a big impact on me.

I first read "The Catcher In The Rye" when I was 17 - Ian Murie, who I sat next to at my first job, suggested I should give it a go and it was a major revelation for me. I loved it and was disturbed by it and wanted to be able to write like it - it changed the way I looked at 'literary' fiction and that shift has stayed with me.

Salinger didn't allow anything else to be published, but apparently has a big backlog of material, which will now more than likely see the light of day. I'll be interested to see what comes out.

- - -
And following on from my post about Robert B Parker, I read "The Judas Goat" last week and loved it and this week I'm reading "The Godwulf Manuscript", which is brilliantly hardboiled. Superb stuff. Next up for me is an unpublished manuscript, which I'm critiquing for my chum Gary McMahon.

A writer leaves...

In the mid-80s, for reasons that now escape me, I picked up Robert B Parker’s “Promised Land” from Smiths in Kettering and really enjoyed it, so much so that I picked up as many of the Spenser books as I could find. They were cracking novels, full of terse, well-pitched dialogue, minimal descriptive passages and superb characterisations (and the use of Boston as a location). I also enjoyed the Robert Urich starring series, especially Avery Brooks’ “Spen-sah”, the phraseology of which I still use today!

I went off the books during the late-90s, as they became more dialogue-driven and there was a lot of ‘white space’, but last year I decided to go back and started with “Promised Land” - I’d forgotten what a wonderful book it really is. In the end, I read 4 Spenser novels last year and really got a taste for hard-boiled mysteries again.

I found out that Robert B Parker died today, aged 77, “sitting at his desk” (which is a pretty good way for a writer to go, I suppose). He was still writing - up to three novels a year, in diverse genres - and I never expected this.

I didn’t know Robert B Parker, nor did I ever meet him, but he brought me a lot of enjoyment as a reader and taught me a lot about dialogue as a writer. RIP, good sir.