Everyone Thinks He Looks Daft

Foz was a lifelong mate and music was a massive part of our friendship. We’ve exchanged countless mix-tapes down the years and, whilst in recent times these have been Spotify and Mixcloud playlists, nothing compares to the love invested in a carefully compiled TDK90 cassette with hand-written listings.

The other night I dug out a handful of Foz’s offerings from my drawers of old tapes – charting his progression from ‘80s John Peel fan-boy to metropolitan jazz/funk/house aficionado. The Fall. Stump. The Shop Assistants. Half Man Half Biscuit. That Petrol Emotion. JTQ. De La Soul. The Beloved. Saint Etienne….. these are gifts that keep on giving.

The track I’ve chosen is from the Sixth-Form/John Peel era. It takes me back to a Wedding Present gig we went to see in a small, grotty club venue somewhere in London, late 1985 I reckon. At 17, Foz had only recently passed his driving test and the two of us ventured up to the Smoke in his brown Morris Marina (?), resplendent in our indie-anoraks and desert boots. No SatNavs or Google Maps in those days of course.

I remember a long, late night and a heady mix of fear and excitement as we parked up and bundled into the packed, smoke-filled venue desperately trying to look like we knew the drill and weren’t interlopers up from a sleepy market town for the night.

Love you Foz.

Chris