John Peel
I should really say something about John Peel. He was an ordinary man who touched the lives of millions. Music today would be different had he never graced the airwaves, and that’s no small thing. Pop music is youth, and youth makes character and character shapes the world. There are lots of songs he would play over the 20 years I listened to him that struck a chord in me, not least Rodeohead, whose twisted genius made me laugh and cry. He was a compere at Glastonbury when I was there, talking from a hidden soundbooth somewhere off the second stage in between the sets while the bands split up. To pass the time, he read the be-docmartinned throng the football scores.
“Right,” he says, “whether or not you deserve it, or even care, I’m going to read you the football scores.” A small ripple of applause from those who weren’t skinning up. A modest salute that sounded like a gathering of nudists sitting down. “Now just to be different I’m going to start with the Scottish results first, because no one ever does that and Christ knows they deserve it.” Several people dispersed among the thousands in the field let out an appreciative cheer, and you know John had made their day. And that’s how it was with him.
So John Peel, wherever you are, I salute you.