Dave Mac was a fixture at so many gigs, and I had no idea how many until yesterday; he literally had gig buddies all around the world. I'd last seen him and his friend Chris at the Betsey Trotwood gig we did on Burns Night this year, although he'd turned up unexpectedly at the gig in Oxford with The Flatmates last autumn.
Chris contacted me a few weeks ago to say that Dave had been very ill for a long time and had finally gone. He was arranging a gig at The Lexington to celebrate Dave's life, and would I be willing to play some songs alongside some of the other musicians that he had been keen on in his life.
No-brainer: where would we be without people like Dave? Chris remembered coming to see The Chefs in Lambeth walk in a pub where we played at least twice, once with a band called The Underaged who were actually all 15.
The pub owner refused to let them play at first, until we guaranteed that they wouldn't drink alcohol!
That long ago... Dave had particularly liked Helen and the Horns, which was diametrically opposed to the almost hardcore punk bands he also followed. He just was a mega fan of live music, and this gathering proved how much he was appreciated not just by his gig-going friends but also by us, the musicians.
I arrived far too early. I'm not sure why: I just did, but I'm glad because I could chat with Chris and also, because I went on my own, feel at home in The Lexington which kind of feels like home anyway to so many bands and musicians. Hats off to Delia, the heart of the venue, who never puts a foot wrong. This was the perfect place for a 21st Century funeral.
The whole room was decked out in Dave's well-worn t-shirts, offensive slogans and all. This alone was a stroke of genius, because t-shirts are a type of diary in themselves, reflecting a wearable jukebox of favourite bands, political causes and of course personality. Chris had put together a slide show of Dave at gigs, with friends, with his constant companion a pint glass, which was projected at the back of the stage. His presence was very much felt.
A friend came to the microphone first, telling us a hilarious story of Dave being the first person to be arrested on Eurostar, appearing small and triumphant in handcuffs escorted by gigantic French police on a visit to see her. His brother stood next to her, with a white cardboard tube containing Dave's ashes. the had little bags so friends could scatter his ashes all over the country, which was apt considering how much he travelled.
It was mildly chaotic. Musicians turned up to sound check at random points, but the sound guy was very patient. I went on first and described the experience of just turning round at gigs, and there was Dave with his pint, just there smiling. He could find a gig at the back of beyond and show up, one of maybe fifteen people in the audience. He had been a printer, like me. Small world.
I sang Northbound Train for him, at Chris's request. It was oddly difficult to play, like chewing something very tough, but I think I managed OK. And I played Saturday Night with the London Set, bringing the song home to where it was first conceived and singing it to an audience for whom it was written, because it's about going to gigs until the very end. This funny community. I knew so few people there yesterday, but we all have the same feeling about the live music scene and how much it sustains us.
After a DJ set, we were treated to Music in Our Underpants, a hilarious, camp duo with a ukulele and a thrashy backing track and more costume changes than anyone I've ever seen in my life. What feats of engineering! They sparked, they shone, they energised the room, and they did a great cover of Plastic Bertrand's Ca Plane Pour Moi.
Paul Laventhol, one of the King Kurt guitarists showed up. I haven't seen him for ages. He's playing guitar for Tara Res now, and although I saw their sound check, I ended up having to go home early because I think I ate something bad on Saturday. I did manage to see a really great band who were punky and fun and really, really tight. I will revise this and put their name in as soon as I find out who they were.
Anyway- before I sign off for the morning, by coincidence there were two MA students in the bar downstairs, one of whom was researching grief and how we manifest it. I asked Chris if it was OK for them to come to the gig upstairs, and he was more than happy for them to join us. As I left and said goodbye, I saw these two people who had stumbled on a really warm-hearted and wonderful musical celebration of a much-loved character whose whole life had been measured out in going to gigs.
Music, love, and a certain spirituality! Beyond ritual, this was a wonderful celebration of Dave's life. He would have loved it.
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