Play That Funky Music, White Pensioner...
25 Jun 2004
There's this bloke from Bristol. Derek, his name is. Grey hair, glasses, in his sixties. Looks like the geezer from Cost Control at work. Seen him? Maybe. Certainly not the kind of person you'd look at and think 'Hmm, I reckon he's a wolf in sheep's clothing, I do'. And yet this is the very man this phrase was invented for.
DJ Derek is a legend in Bristol. If Blues parties that go on for about a week uninterrupted are your thing, that is. If you've ever been to a lock-in in St.Pauls, he'll be your man. You may have played dominos with him until midday, the ashtrays piling up like pyramids. You may even have caught his Wednesday night set in the Jazz Lounge, Glastonbury's newest, funkiest best kept secret since Lost Vagueness (B Market - near Meeting Point). And he plays the most eclectic and credible blend of reggae, soul and, well I believe I heard Nina Simone in there somewhere.
And you heard the voice? Heard him talk, yeah? Yep, I know, he's white but sounds like a Jamaican. Mad, eh? I try to imagine an old lady taking up the seat next to him on a bus, striking up conversation and being answered by a white Buju Banton. What larks.
Unlikely as it may seem, Derek is highly respected and revered within Bristol's more, how shall we say - underground community, a steady stream of whom visit the decks to heap praise on the most unlikely looking superstar DJ.
Playing the sweetest music until 4am, Derek is on long after I have retired for the evening. I'll hazard the bloke from Cost Control would not last this long either...
Words: >Stalker
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