Just over a month old
Back in the early 90s, I DJ'd at an indie club. It was called Loft 23, it was held at The Pigeons on the Romford Road in Stratford E15, and was frequented by the great & good from the University of East London over the road. Me and Tris did the music, Tony did the door, the rest was staff & management. We all three had a love for the somewhat more abrupt end of the musical scale, and couldn't understand why everyone didn't love Psalm 69 by Ministry...but we played Blur and James and the Mondays and so on so all was well. In 1995, Tris and Tony at about the same time moved back to Lincolnshire whence they'd come, and we lost touch.

Skip forward to less than a year ago, and through the miracle of Facebook I make contact with them both; they're still in Lincolnshire, I've moved out to Hampshire. Promises are made to meet up, as you do.

Then on December 15th last year, I found out that Tony had died the night before; heart attack. This info gleaned from a Facebook update, of all things, by a mutual friend. The funeral is set for New Years Eve, and I of course attend.

It was a humanist service, so no religious claptrap, and a few choice songs; two were detailed in the Order Of Service, the last was 'another of Tony's favourites'. I'll let you imagine the looks of joy when the well spoken fifty-something woman leading the service announced that the exit song would be Ministry's 'Jesus Built My Hot Rod'. It's strange to sit full of sadness trying not to laugh at the abject joy of the situation, the ludicrousness, the fact that it's exactly what he would have wanted, the belligerent old sod.

Another song with another memory. Goodbye Tone, may you ding a ling lang your dang a long ling long into eternity.

If you'd care to take something from this: go and see those people you've not seen in years, one day they won't be there to see.
( Fathter Puddytat Kill Kill dat widdle boid is mine on, Thu 28 Jan 2010, 23:29, Reply)