Watching Top of the Pops at 7pm on a Thursday evening in the 1980s. There were only 3 channels, or 2 if you were from a strictly English middle class background and banned from watching the sin of ITV, where adverts and common accents prevailed. Friday mornings saw avid discussion of the latest fashion, moves, sounds, tribes drily piped into our homes by John Peel or his overly smiley fellow presenters. Peel was an instigator, someone who broke the norm but was high profile, someone you could get behind and follow.
There were other Radio 1 DJs in the UK such as Annie Nightingale, David “Kid” Jensen, and Janice Long who were also important but less resonant. Without Peel these DJ’s might not have successfully traversed mainstream and underground arenas. One person centrifugally centred, orbits spinning right round baby right around his beloved Liverpool.
On 25th October 2004 John Peel died at the same moment that my youngest daughter was whizzing into the world, catapulted out and almost immediately tying herself in knots by an overly long umbilical cord. as is tradition, I kept a copy of the newspaper from her birth day, splashed with news of Peel’s untimely death. An icon who had informed the music tastes of millions, defined genres, was gone at the same moment my lovely new daughter was born. I’m sure she will have as much impact but in a different way.
