Justin worked as a spot operator, part of the back stage crew for West End productions. After performances, he and the crew would go partying in techno clubs like the 414 in Brixton. For health reasons, he hadn’t been able to pursue his profession for the last 20 years. Justin was a fine bedroom DJ, who hosted many parties at his flat in West Norwood, before moving north of the river to live in Wood Green, where he continued to DJ for parties at my place on the Haringey Ladder, The Diabolical Mansions. You never quite knew what he’d play, he loved techno in most of its machinations, he loved D+B and dub, and he could happily take you down a Northern Soul set. His taste in music was impeccable, and his vast and joyful knowledge of music formed the basis for many of our brilliant conversation. Sci-fi, space travel, the esoteric, ancient aliens, films, and science: Justin’s insatiable curiosity and thirst for knowledge made him an oracle of sharp wit and Zen wisdom.
Justin passed away in The Whittington Hospital on the 8th August. The date and the place were of course, of splendid significance. As a devotee of Bastet, Justin demonstrated a rare and touching fondness for, and connection with cats. Destiny, then, that he passed away on international cat day, with Whittington’s cat as his guardian familiar. Synchronicity then, that this date is also 808 day, when Roland celebrates their iconic 808-drum machine. Justin was once a proud custodian of an 808, and one of its buttons contributed to the name of our band, with Guy Reid: Dark Matter Clear Pattern. I couldn’t envisage a more perfectly sacred coordinate in space-time, for Justin to shuffle off this mortal coil.
Justin didn’t have a great childhood, and he didn’t talk about it much. Finding himself spiritually cold and hungry, he did what myself and many of our friends did, and sought a community in which to curate a family, one which offered unconditional acceptance and love. During the short period of 6 weeks between his diagnosis and his death, it was often commented that Justin was fortunate to have such good friends to care for him, to walk with him as he made his way through the valley. In particular Dag, Teresa, Tamsin, and his aunt Penny, who went above and beyond to make sure Justin’s senses were filled with the best we could offer. As orphans of London, we should all be so lucky to have such love and attention in our end times. I wish this for our friends and myself, and we certainly answered the call for Justin.
Justin had a surprising faith in humanity, and hoped for the survival of our species, mainly through intergalactic space travel. So to paraphrase an over used sci-fi quote, because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be doing the man justice:
‘We’ve seen things, you people wouldn’t believe.
Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion.
We watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate
All those moments, will be lost in time like tears in rain
But for now, reside in those who remain.’
He was a brother to me, and I miss him dearly.