We were recently down in Bristol. We were wandering the back streets around St Pauls, a suburb immediately on the north side of the city centre, while my daughter took photos of the iconic street art that manifests on almost every building in this part of town, for a college project.
As we walked up Thomas Street, a young man holding a bottle jumped out excitedly, seeing my daughter wielding a camera at the street art, loudly proclaiming that we had to see this one. It was a mural that covered the end of one non-descript house at the top of the street. Amongst all the other images, was a depiction of an elderly white man. "That's DJ Derek! He was a local legend man - he was an old white man who played reggae... kind of like an older Tim Westwood. He went missing though.. then they found him.. but he died... cancer or something...."
Intriguing.
Derek Serpell-Morris, to give DJ Derek his more formal name, was born in Bristol in December 1941, the son of a carpenter. In 1956 he became the washboard player in a skiffle group (The Vampires), before a long stint as a drummer in a rock n roll band (Dale Rivers & The Ramrods).
Part time musician aside, Morris spent much of the first 35 years of his life living an outwardly 'normal' life. He was twice married, and worked in the accounts department of JS Fry & Sons (later owned by Cadbury) all the way through to 1977.
But he had already discovered the sounds of the Caribbean.
The 'blackest white man in Bristol':
His sister Shirley remarked on Derek as a youngster, that, "He was very introvert. Nobody ever knew what he was thinking. If I could have summed him up then, I would have said he was going to be eccentric."
Derek has actually discovered Jamaican music in the early 60s, when he frequented parties in the St Pauls district. Daddy G's (of Massive Attack) parents had moved to England, and Bristol, and knew Derek. "Derek was a real novelty to my parents because he was a white guy who had embraced their culture. He was probably the blackest white man that people knew in Bristol."
Derek would later recall that era. "By the mid-sixties, rock and white R&B had given way to beat groups with three guitars and drums. I missed the sax sound, but would hear it at Tom Phelp's Embassy Cafe, and then the Criterion he took over in Sussex Place."
"Then there was the Bamboo Club in St Paul, where I first heard the likes of Desmond Dekker, Toots & The Maytals and early Bob Marley. Some people thought hanging around the Bamboo was dangerous for me, but the guys there knew I was only there for the music."
By the 1970s, both of Derek's parents had died and his first marriage had come to an end. He then had a second, very brief and volatile marriage, which ultimately seems to have led to what we would now call a breakdown.
Fellow DJ Aidan Larkin explains more, "He lost his home, his job, everything, and the black community got him back on his feet. He was totally adopted by them." In fact, Morris had quite his job with Fry's in 1977 and moved into a small basement flat in St Paul's the following year.
The Star & Garter:
In 1977, a Jamaican born bus driver, and friend of Derek's, took over the running of the Star & Garter pub in Montpelier (the next suburb north of St Paul's). He offered him a slot DJ'ing, which Derek would then do for much of the rest of his life. He developed his DJ voice using a Jamaican patois, and would always end his sets with Marley's One Love. Derek said, "It's a perfect signing off record for a reggae set - let's get together and feel alright. So next time people, let's get together and feel alright."
D Derek's legend grew in Bristol and beyond. The aforementioned Daddy G grew up influenced by him, and legendary videographer and DJ Don Letts, would become his friend. He would end up gigging far beyond the boundaries of Bristol - finding himself on stage at The Big Chill and Glastonbury, and even making a trip to the Canaries to DJ in Las Palmas. The peak came with the Trojan Records release, in 2006, of DJ Derek Presents Sweet Memory Sounds. He would also pop up in the video for Dizzee Rascal's Dirtee Disco.
Dizzee Rascal: Dirtee Disco - here
(Official music video - including Derek behind the decks)
Derek said that he learnt the patois he used in a local barber shop, with Letts remarking - "I found the contrast of this bespectacled Englishman in his cardigans and fancy waistcoats throwing down some serious Jamaican slanguage quite endearing."
When he bumped into reggae legend Toots Hibbert (of Maytals fame), before he could introduce himself, Hibbert said, "You don't have to tell me who you are. You're the white man who talks the people's talk and play the people's music."
Nice little feature and interview at one of his last ever gigs, at Komedia in Bath - here.
Disappearance:
Derek was given the Lord Mayor's medal in 2012, for outstanding contributions to local music, before announcing his retirement from full-time DJ'ing in 2013. He would still play the odd gig, including a New Years Eve set in 2014 with Letts.
Derek left the Criterion pub on Ashley Road in Montpelier, on 11th July 2015, and his bus pass was then used to get to Thornbury, about ten miles north of Bristol.
His family reported him missing around three weeks after that last confirmed sighting. He regularly took himself off on jaunts by bus, so no one had been immediately concerned when he hadn't been seen for a while.
Once the missing report was filed, his great niece Jenny Griffiths went into overdrive in an effort to find him. She had worked informally as his PA for a decade, before becoming a learning support worker. It was strange that there had been no firm sightings (although there were several sketchy, unconfirmed ones), given his status locally, as Jenny remembered, "I remember getting on a bus with Derek once and everyone started clapping. That's how well known he was."
Search efforts were helped by Roni Size and Geoff Barrow (Portishead) mentioning the disappearance on a national scale.
It would take until the following March, for his remains to be discovered, by a dog walker, in Cribbs Causeway, a northern suburb out by the M5. Jenny told Dorian Lynskey from The Guardian, "I feel sick that it took so bloody long to find him. I don't feel like I did enough." If he hadn't been found, "I would have carried on and on," she adds.
Foul play was ruled out, but no cause of death was fully established. Some speculated that he had killed himself, but his family say that is unlikely as he had been looking forward to lots of things, including helping Letts on the documentary around his life. We shall never know - but hundred's of Bristolians turned up in April for his funeral at St Agnes church in St Paul's.
Remembering Derek:
"He was a reggae encyclopaedia" recalls Letts. "He taught me about the importance of culture in bringing people together. He was an English treasure."
Daddy G called him, "An Ambassador for cultural exchange." "He's a testament to the power of music to change individuals and in so doing, change the idea of what it means to be British."
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