Remembering Dave James
(Nimue)
He was a magnificent bastard. I’m not going to try and write some kind of obituary for this remarkable man, who lived such an unusual life. He remains one of the most amazing people I’ve ever known, and unequivocally the most difficult and cantankerous person I’ve ever worked with. I would not be who I am today were it not for him, it is no exaggeration to say that he left his fingerprints on my soul. He departed this world recently, and peacefully, having lived long and fully. He didn’t do much peacefully, to be fair, and it’s hard to imagine him resting in peace. More likely he’s galivanting around in the afterlife making a lot of noise.
Dave taught me how to MC, and he taught me stagecraft. I’d performed a fair bit in public before I met him, but usually at the back of a group. He taught me how to stand centre stage and deal with an audience. The advice he shared with me while we were working together I have passed on to many people along the way. His legacy lives on in the singing and performance of people who never met him. He becomes an ancestor of tradition now, and that’s no small achievement.
Dave had a particular gift for getting people to do what they did not think they could do. When we went to visit him in 2023, he described to Keith what I shy and awkward creature I’d been when he first met me, and how he’d pushed me into being more than that. Keith laughed and said that I’d done something similar to him around performing. This was not a coincidence. I spent years watching Dave cajole and engineer people into doing things they did not think they could do. I’m a softer touch, but I continue that tradition.
I sang and played violin with him for some years. I’m pretty sure the photo comes from a gig where I was also playing. Dave was a regular at my folk club, and I was a regular at his. He performed as part of my mumming side. James used to call him ‘Grumpy Dave’ – there were a lot of Daves with guitars during my Redditch period, and James preferred titles to surnames. ‘Lock him in a room with Grumpy Dave singing’ was one of James’ Drunken Sailor verses.
The dead are not lost to us. Not while we remember them, and tell their stories and live out the things we learned from them. Those who are loved, live. Dave’s legacy lives on in all the people he encouraged and harassed into being more than they would otherwise have been. He could be an absolute sod to deal with – and never pretended otherwise. I am glad to have known him, and glad to be a person he helped shape.
