I was flicking through the Global Notable Deaths of 2013 on the BBC website the other day and I’m embarrassed to say that I had no idea of who many of the deceased great and the good were.
I had much more joy (if that’s the right word) with the UK notables which shows how parochial I am, no matter how worldly I consider myself to be.
That’s the depressing part of New Year – looking back at all those people who are no longer here – and it gets more personal the older you get.
Like Lou Reed. I saw him live at a concert in Manchester in 1973 or 74, although I use the word ‘live’ loosely as he was out of his brains on something, fell off his stool several times and couldn’t remember his own lyrics.
I suppose it’s a miracle that he made it as far as 2013, but it still came as a shock to hear that he had died. (It happened while we were away and I don’t think Lou must have been big in Thailand)
The thing is, he was a part of my own past. Transformer was one of those seminal albums that left its mark which is what I mean when I say that so many departures are quite personal these days.
The likes of Mel Smith, David Frost, Bill Foulkes, Eddie Braben, John Cole, David Coleman, Alan Whicker et al feel like contemporariness which is a depressing thought.
Still, as long as I’m still around to read the obituaries eh?