Memories of Frank Sidebottom

What a sad day mid-summer turned out to be, as news came through to me that Chris Sievey, the creator of Frank Sidebottom, had died. We shouldn't forget the name Chris Sievey, because without him Frank never existed, but John Robb pays tribute to him far better than I ever could here - http://johnrobb77.wordpress.com/2010/06/21/frank-sidebottom-rip/ - and I'd urge you to read that.

But for me, Chris is Frank Sidebottom, a ridiculous character who entertained me to the point of obsession in the late 80s and early 90s. So whilst I eulogise about the loss of Frank, it is with the greatest respect to Chris, who to me was a genius for coming up with this ludicrous idea, that made me laugh until I ached.

I can't recall when I first came across Frank, but it is possible I heard him before I saw his papier maché'd bonce. I used to listen to Piccadilly Radio late at night for the left-wing leanings of James H Reeve, but when he went on holiday, Frank Sidebottom stepped in for a week, and introduced me to his surreal world. On Monday his guest was Little Frank. Tuesday, Little Denise. Wednesday, Amoeba Frank was on air, all with the same song request - Living in a Box, by Living in a Box. I was hooked.

Over the next few years I bought the e.p.'s and albums, wore the t-shirts and saw Frank live on a number of occassions. At the 1990 Reading Festival he came on as Santa Claus, then played a Carol, before removing his red cloak and beard with a "ha...fooled you, it was me all along". In Manchester he spent almost an hour showing us pictures of Bury New Market, before tricking us with a picture of Glossop Bank Holiday Market, to extra lusty cheers from me. In Preston he chucked large silver wooden kitchen utensils into the audience, and I claimed a fork that I kept for years, until it was inevitiably lost in a house move.

As life caught up with me, it co-incided with Frank disappearing from public life. I don't know where he went, and the odd 'whatever happened to...' question was met with no answer apart from tales of one shambolic drunken performance at a City supporters club night.

Then, a few years ago he returned and I was delighted. Props must go to Channel M for their decision to give Frank a series, which seemed to enliven his taste for public life as well as the public's taste for Frank. Whilst I failed, regretfully, to see Frank live since his comeback (although I did see him DJing with customary enthusiasm at Eurocultured a few years back) I was heartened that he was still out there, making people laugh as he had me. Latterly, his tweets were keeping me happy.

He didn't seem worried about the tumour that it seems killed him, cancelling only a few gigs with apologies, but still performing when he wasn't feeling poorly. His messages were hugely optimistic, and it was in this cheerful spirit I ran the Manchester 10k last month in a Timperley Bigshorts t-shirt, with 'get well soon Frank' written on my number. That's why it was a real shock to read about his death yesterday.

I think the world is a poorer place without him. I don't think there will ever be an act so unlikely to succeed on paper, but so brilliant in reality. In this 'Britain's Got Talent' age, he would be booed off stage before he'd finished the first lengthy 'ooooooh' of 'I Should Be So Lucky'. If he has any legacy over and above the fun he gave us, perhaps it could be for those who are outside of the 'norm' get their chance to shine. The outpouring of affection upon Chris/Frank's death should be telling people to persevere, no matter what the self-appointed experts tell you.

You know it should, it really should. Thank you.