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the final curtain

JUDGE DREAD

THE WHOLE KENT ska scene is definitely starting to buzz - T-Leaf, House Of Ska and the Skaville UK newsletter are based here, we've had two mini ska festivals organised by Porky, Eastern Standard Time from the States recently played Canterbury with Mark Foggo's Skasters to come, plus various gigs featuring the Kent-based Buster Bloodvessel, Judge Dread, Arthur Kay & The Originals and Intensified.
So the gig on March 13th at the Penny Theatre in Canterbury seemed all set for another good night out.  As Trevor, the Penny's guvnor, correctly pointed out at the end of what was to be a very sad evening, it was a good crowd in a good mood, having a laugh and a drink.
Arthur Kay & The Originals took to the stage at the allotted time to the usual good Canterbury welcome.  The only odd thing I noticed at the time was that I hadn't seen Judge Dread wandering about, talking to fans.  I found this especially odd at a local Kent gig where he had so many friends . . . it was very strange.  So during Arthur's set I popped upstairs to the dressing room to see Alex.  There he was sitting in the corner, getting ready, greeting me with his unforgettable smile and the words, "Hello boy, how are you?"
We sat and chatted about local football more than anything else, and how Margate FC's stuffy directors had upset the whole contingent of music company investors brought in by Link Music, Buster Bloodvessel and the good Judge himself.  What astonished him was, after all the work he and Buster had put into recent events at Margate, how ungrateful they had been, and even almost embarrassed by what they say as "silly ska people".  I have to mention this because it's what sticks in my mind - it was obviously something he had to say that night.  He'd said it before and I wondered why he said it again.
We then got on to music and how he had had a good feedback about his "skinhead opera" idea, and that several West End producers had asked for more details.  From what I can remember, the Merc were seriously thinking of sponsoring the play.  We even discussed what songs should be in it, but especially having Bring Back The Skins as the main track.  We looked at each other, winked, then laughed about the thought of those hoity toity knobs going to see some skinhead play just because it was in the West End and the trendy thing to do.
We also further discussed the plans for his new album, which we had finally got to grips with.  It was going to be recorded with many backing bands like The Originals and Intensified in the UK, his old friends Dr Ring Ding in Germany, and also Crooked Beat in Sweden who he'd recently played with to great success.  He had pulled more people in Sweden than The Specials had done recently, and was quite pleased with what he had been paid.  He padded his pocket with an outstretched palm to the backing of his own laughter.  Fuck me, he was really a true character.
The album was to have had a skinhead/rude boy theme and was to have been licensed to as many ska labels as possible around the world, with the only provision being that all the labels had to release the album on the same day.  It was his way of uniting the whole ska scene, and being the first person to get an out and out ska album released by at least ten labels on the same day all over the world, it would have been another record like all his banned hits!  It was a great idea, and while recording the track Skinhead Moonstomp with The Originals for inclusion as a special track on a forthcoming Harry May CD, he also recorded a new track called Skinhead.  A brilliant piece of Dread ska - it even mentioned The Merc, and we'd agreed to release it as a one-sided promo single, although I'm not sure he ever got to talk to The Merc about it.  The track crystallised his love of the ska and skin world and proved that this new album was going to be a winner.
He went on to tell me that he had just been interviewed (and taped) by a Japanese student at Canterbury University which was to have been his last ever interview.  From what he said I think he added a bit to the truth on a couple of matters for a wind up, as the Japanese girl didn't quite get his humour.
I shook his hand, wandered downstairs to see the end of Arthur's set, bought a beer, and waited for Alex to appear as Judge Dread on stage.
Halfway, well it seemed like halfway through the Judge's set, and after a brilliant rendition of The Winkle Man, he walked over to Trevor the keyboardist and mentioned his t-shirt, making some witty comment.  It was unusual for him to ever turn his back on the audience.  He then proceeded to thank Arthur Kay & The Originals, then he looked up, apparently lost for words, stumbled, and fell off the stage.  For several seconds I thought he was mucking about as he'd been in a fiercely funny mood upstairs.  What was he up to now?  Then there was the awful noise of someone hitting the floor when they keel over unconscious.
I ran straight out and got Trevor from the Penny to call an ambulance.  Philip, an off-duty paramedic and brother of keyboardist Trevor's girlfriend, jumped into action, and to be honest if the ambulance hadn't taken so long, and if the defibrillating machine had been working, and the fucking ambulance hadn't broken down, I believe he would have been the man who saved Alex.  People say the ambulance got there quickly.  Well, I don't know about that - the hospital can only be two minutes away when you've got flashing blue lights and sirens.
Those anxious few minutes were probably the worst of my life.  I couldn't bare to look at Alex laying on the floor in his Superman t-shirt.  I can also still remember the anguish in every single person's face at the gig.  The mood had turned from a carnival into disaster in seconds.  The person I remember being most frantic was poor Arthur Kay.  The man has some faults (and don't we all), but he is one of the most honest and genuine people I know, and he sincerely loved Alex and relished every opportunity of playing with him.  Arthur, who had recently split up with his wife and bravely kept off the demon drink was faltering like us all.  The next moments were to be even worse when the defibrillating machine was tried and didn't work . . . it was unbelievable.  Why do they always work on some useless actor in them stupid TV shows!
The paramedics got Alex in the ambulance only for the fucking thing not to start.  The few people standing outside the gig pushed it as far as they could and rushed back to get the rest of us.  I had been on the phone to Alex's long term girlfriend, Anna, telling her he was off to hospital in the ambulance, only to find it stranded in the closed garage opposite.  We pushed it all around the block hoping to bump start it, but failed.  It finally stopped on a roundabout by Sainsbury's.  And all the time we were pushing we were watching a paramedic massaging and pressing on Alex's heart.  I honestly believe we would have pushed that ambulance all the way to the hospital.
Then a paramedic rushed out of the stationary ambulance and ran towards a bus shelter on the Sturry Road.  Where the fuck was he going?  Then we realised there used to be a phone box there (I wonder what clever bastard ordered that to be moved).  We shouted at the paramedic, asking if he needed a phone, he replied yes, and unbelievably four of five people who normally carry mobile phones, including me, didn't have them.  Angela, herself a nurse at Canterbury Hospital (which is currently under threat of closure!) used the Penny's phone to get some sense from the hospital as to where the back up ambulance was and how long it would be.
In the meantime, some dickhead from one of the local houses had called the police saying a group of skinheads and big blokes were nicking an ambulance from outside the Penny Theatre.  The police duly arrived, we told them about Alex as he lay in the useless stationary ambulance, and they told us they couldn't help and drove off!  Maybe they had something important to do like checking cars for tax discs.
The second ambulance finally arrived and Alex was transferred from one to the other.  I jumped in my wife's car with her mate Bev and drove off to the hospital.  I remember thinking about people like Porky, Toast, Dartford Steve, Dr Paul and Angela and The Filth's Jon and Simon.  It was something about their faces, it was as if they already knew the worst.
At the hospital there was a small group, including a very emotional Arthur who went off to the chapel to pray, keyboardist Trevor, his girlfriend Sandra and her paramedic brother, Philip  Some time later Philip came out from behind a closed door to tell me Alex had finally died.  I just couldn't believe it, and still can't.  I'm still waiting for his usual phone call with all the local football gossip.  The two police officers who turned up to do the necessary's were a different breed to the earlier ones.  They were younger and genuinely seemed to care - one had been a fan and he just looked out of the window in a daze.  They asked me to ID him, fuck me what a terrible experience - it was worse than seeing my mother in the chapel of rest.  She had been ill and had prayed for a heart attack to end her suffering.  This was the great man laid out on a trolley . . . this was the great legend.  I officially identified Alex and have tried unsuccessfully to push that picture of him out of my mind.
I don't really remember anything from there on, except going to see Alex in the chapel.  But I do remember saying in the car on the way home that although it had been a complete fiasco, I know that if Alex had been sitting beside me, he would have pushed his glasses back on his forehead and made some hilarious remark about the ambulance being pushed up the road by his friends and fans.
I can't finish this without saying we all lost a genuine friend and a character who really did touch us with his music, humour and presence.  He was a real gentleman and will be sorely missed, BUT NEVER FORGOTTEN.