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Blow it up, burn it down, kick it till it breaks... John was the magnificently mouthy mouthpiece of ranting punk rabble rousers Bomb Factory, instant allies in kicking back against political and cultural backwardness. He had a magical ability to use words as weapons, not beating around any bourgeois bullshit bushes while making his points. His rants, accompanied by a cacophony of drums, bass guitar and sometimes guitars, were always inspiring, certainly polemical, sometimes amusing, calls for action. It is no surprise that R*E*P*E*A*T gave him and his comrades their first gig 20 (!) years ago, and then released their first (white) vinyl, a split single with established punk poet Attila the Stockbroker, an obvious ally who instantly appreciated what Bomb Factory were doing.
John, like Attila, loved words, using them not just in his lyrics but also in his day job; when I first encountered him he was a journalist on the Cambridge Evening News – covering a wide brief, as well as highlighting unsigned and local bands. After working at a news agency, John moved on to work for the RSPB, his words like dive bombing fledglings spreading delight, solidarity or disgust, depending on what side of the nest you sat. I'm also proud to say that R*E*P*E*A*T also gave the first gig to Paint Nothing - John's side-project which later became the main project - in 2013.
Despite his onstage persona and his righteous anger, John was always a delight to deal with: kind, quietly spoken, committed, compassionate, creative, full of appreciation of all things DIY and creative. He is the sort of person this world needs now more than ever, and he will be sorely missed.
It is only appropriate to end with words John wrote for that first
single release back in 2004, a manifesto which certainly stands the
test of time: Thoughts and solidarity to his family, friends and band mates. RIP Rosey R*E*P*E*A*T Find Bomb Factory on Sp*tify here (ironically a platform I am sure John despised!)
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