A friend and a song

I only heard the song a few times when I was a student at the end of the 80s. It was cool and arch and clever and literary in the face of death, in a way that was both scary and heartening. My friend enthused about it to me, or perhaps I enthused about it to him, it could have been either. It was a friendship of shared enthusiasms but few confidences. The song’s swagger and assurance reminded me of the qualities which I admired in him and which I envied, which is why even after we started to go in different directions I would always think of him if I thought of the song, although I never knew the name of the artist and never heard it played on the radio after that year. My friend died, quite unexpectedly and suddenly, in 2000. Although we had seen very little of one another in the preceding five years, the 21st century still seems odd without him. There are many things which remind me of him and make me wonder what his opinion of them would be, but since his death nothing is quite as emblematic of how and why I miss him as My earliest bookmark for the blog is dated 2005, so that must be when I became a regular reader. It was full of the sorts of things that I like to read about: odd music, sex and politics and sexual politics, architecture, art and design. I was hanging around on ILM in those days and had noticed him posting there too. It was apparent that he was a musician but I had never heard of his records or seen any of them in stores so I didn’t have much of an opportunity to become a fan of his music as well as of his writing. Occasionally he’d post tracks and they were to my taste, although I remember thinking that if I had heard them when I was younger, I would not have liked them as much. Their dark tone and frankness about sex were the sort of thing I used to be diffident about and would have put me off. When a comment appeared on this blog under his stage name I was impressed but also felt too shy to ask if it was him or not. Not too long after that, he described an upcoming live show on his blog and I found out that it was he who had written

that particular song. It was a very strange sensation when these two distinct things, Click Opera and my memories of Jad, were joined up. The blog is one of the many things which I want to show him but will never be able to. This month, Momus is posting mp3s of his six out-of-print Creation albums, so I’m finally able to listen to “What Will Death Be Like?” again. I still really like it. This is a way of saying thank you to them both.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s