Then I have memories from sitting next to Luke in English Literature A’ level and History A level. I remember he would always write and draw on my books infact I still have my Hamlet book with his writing and pictures all over it. I have various notes he wrote from prep session as we all did. They all made me laugh lots he was really funny.

I also remember staying at Luke’s house one holiday with Adam Meiklejohn and we went to see ‘Jesus and the Mary chain” play at Brixton Academy it was a great evening it really was. I remember being trapped in the mosh pit and my feet not touching the floor for a whole song only to be rescued and hauled out by Luke and Adam. Its a nice memory I even remember the aga in his house and the way the light fell in the hallway as I was leaving with Adam to catch the train in the morning. I also have a memory of a heated discussion about Metallica at a dinner at Zarya’s in Godalming and I also remember being most appreciative of Shanas Birthday party a few weeks after that, which is the last time I saw Luke, I remember it well as he came over to me and kissed me on the cheek and apologized for how he had been at Zaryas house, it was a lovely evening and I’m so glad we got to talk and hang out. Its almost as if he knew and is something I will never forget as long as I live.

The most vivid memory however is of the ‘pop concert’s’ we used to do at Frensham do you guys remember? Well Luke, Tim Maybe Jo Bromley and I…. I’m not sure of anyone else but we did Metallica ‘Four Horsemen’ does anyone remember that. I was Cliff Burton and Tim and I poured Ketchup all over ourselves in a bid to be really Metal. I believe somewhere there is film of this maybe Lindsay knows? Metal ay! Dick the drama teacher was particularly upset because one of us threw a prop doll out into the audience very Metal ay.

I remember too the train Journey down to Cornwall on the day of his funeral and I remember seeing Luke’s parents standing together holding each other over Luke’s grave a vision that has never left me. I have been back to the Church with Giles and Linus (before the twins were born) and we signed the visitor’s book and said a prayer for Luke, Its something I will always do if I am in the area. He was a special person who I will never forget and only wish I could remember more but time has a funny way with us all. Luke if you are out there somewhere rock on and thanks for being you.

P.S Please look after my Timmy in heaven, I’m sure you guys have a lot to catch up on. Sweet Dreams x

I can hear him say it.
x

I remember him getting the best bed in the room we shared because he needed better rest than me. His mum intervened to arrange this, and I protested before I knew about his health problems which he explained apologetically because he knew I was losing out as a result.

I remember staying nights in Herne Hill when Guy worked for an off licence and Luke worked for a video store and we thought it would great if we could top it off if we could get someone living there to get a job making pizzas.

I remember that him and me where the only kids at fourteen who had moved from overseas into Bracken Hill (me from US/France, him from Hong Kong) and him fitting in faster than me, which turned me a little bit into an outsider/loner/saddo.

He apologised for that a couple of times, years later, when we were both at university. I said it wasn’t his fault; I wasn’t the world’s most sociable person and people will act how they want to act anyway. Both times he said: “No, I know that. There is always going to be someone who’s the outcast and I knew it was either going to be me or you. I didn’t mean it to be you and I just wanted to fit in, so it kind of ended up being more you than me.” When he said it - we were alone both times - it seemed he was a little uneasy like it was a confession, and neither time was I able to really set his conscience at ease.

I remember him being, to this day, the only male friend I ever said I loved. Guy and Lindsay were round at his house in 1992 and I called after coming back from New Orleans and Hurricane Andrew, which I had been caught up in just weeks before and I was still emotional from my brush with adventure.

He turned to tell them that I had been in it and sounded relieved and asked if I would come over and play cards, drink whiskey and smoke. I was busy that whole week and felt bad that I couldn’t but I said “I love you guys.” We both stayed on the line, each wrapped in our own separate silence. He thought for a second and said: “And we really love you, Cliffy.”

And I remember being grateful, a couple of months on, that I’d told him while there was still time.

And how no one’s death, not even my mother’s, hurt as much as his did. Hurts. Does.

So, the memories part. Ok. God, this is tough - like Guy, I find it hard to recall specific anecdotes and funny stories, sadly. I just have random flashes of Luke playing his bass in the corner of the study in Flottage, while Rick Feist danced around the room, Becca and Charlie Balmforth laughed and George Rye grinned at the wall. When things got a little bit too ‘Musical Theatre’ in our study, Luke would lose himself in Metallica and doodle a skull…I think he secretly enjoyed those ‘Hair’ medleys, though.

There are those pivotal people in your life who challenge you and change you. From the word go it mattered to me what he thought about stuff. I was always just that little bit frightened of him, but mainly because I cared for him so much. Actually, adored more like! He made me laugh - the dry sense of humour, steely eyes and random silliness – Dead McTavish and squidgosquidgosquidgolightly to mention but a couple of things that pop into my head and make me smile from time to time. I remember him saying that one of the reasons he was first attracted to Becca was that she had hair just like James Hetfield! High praise indeed.

I have happy memories of just hanging out at school; doing a crossword (we were obsessive and highly competitive), staggering to and from various pubs in darkness, lounging around in the study talking about whatever. Then after Frensham, the house near Finsbury Park where entire weekends were lost and nothing ever happened, an Inspiral Carpets gig at Brixton Academy where Becca and Guy got pissed in the pub while we hugged the front of the stage, and a few mad nights in Dulwich with a very stoned white fluffy cat.

He was the glue that stuck us together as a group of friends. When he died I lost touch with a lot of people because that link had been lost. His death was by the most devastating loss I’d experienced at that time and it was a bit too damn painful to see the people that reminded me of him.

Over the years I’ve always had a very strong sense of his presence, like some kind of over-sized angel/devil on my shoulder, kicking me up the arse and pointing me in the right direction when necessary. Spooky by name, spooky by nature. He is and was a lot of things to a lot of different people, and to live a mere 20 years or so and have that kind of effect on those whose paths you’ve crossed…well, it’s pretty fucking incredible, isn’t it?

I’m raising my glass and sticking on my old Wonderstuff album.

Thanks for doing this - I’ll be back later with a some stuff of my own.

Guy - thanks. After he died, I felt like half of me had been amputated. Same here - the big half, too.

Ok, I’ll tell you something about him. It’s very ordinary and mundane, and like any other single story it can’t tell you everything you should know, but it’s all I’ve got right now. When we about 15 a bunch of us got together and built a whole sector of MegaCity One out of polystyrene blocks, scaletrix tracks, and what have you, with little lead soldiers populating it. The idea was that we were going to play a marathon Judge Dredd role-playing game set in this sector, get sponsorship, and give the money to charity. Luke, and a bunch of others and I, sat and painted this stuff for about a month. When we got to the point of actually playing the game he decided that his character was going to be called Judge Mental, and I think he got the biggest kick out of the last part of the game where a nuclear bomb went off and he got to demolish half the block. The next year we did another marathon game, this time set in the far future, with galaxy hopping spacecraft and stuff. Luke decided his character was going to be a heavily armed robot with a detachable penis. If I remember right, we were all on a quest for a magic hedgehog called Bert. At one point all the characters walk into a bar, and Luke’s killer android, dressed in a black leather jacket and shades, and hefting two mighty machine guns, says to the barman “I’ll have a Babycham.” At which point everyone in the bar decides that they, too, will have a Babycham.

I don’t know what this tells you. He was stupid, creative, funny as hell, puerile, 15 years old?

One thing I always admired (and envied) him for was the great love he had with his family. He adored his older brother, and was amazingly close to his Mum and Dad for an adolescent. Just about everyone else we knew at that age would be bitching about their parents, but Luke was never interested in that. I spent a lot of time at his house, and I can see why he felt that way. He came from a place with a lot of love, and he had a lot to give to his friends as a result. Things weren’t always so good for me at home, and Luke’s family often took me in. They did it without question, and that generosity of spirit is something I will always be grateful for and try to pass on. I remember that when he died there were people who barely knew him – they’d had a beer together once, for example – would come to offer their condolences to his family, only to break down in tears and be consoled by his parents and brother. Which illustrates both their spirit, and that Luke had a profound effect on many people, no matter how long they knew him.

I’m sorry I don’t have any more funny stories about him to share. After he died I felt like half of me had been amputated, and it might be that a lot of the specific memories were in that half. I just have this sort of warm happy fuzzy area in my brain which he lives in. All I can tell you is that he was a good man, a good friend, and it’s a damn shame we never got to see what he would grow up to be. And that all of his friends miss him, every day, and wish he would come back.

And vaguely related, there’s also a Rhythm Method page.

I know you don’t want sympathy but still. I’m sorry you lost such a good friend.

I fucking loved the essay. It’s a great insight - how could you and that guy NOT be friends?

The tribute is a lovely idea.