Medway Exiles Club

There's nothing like some unexpected bad news to bring aimless, too-long torpor to an overdue end. 

Jack Rose is dead.

Jack Rose was a wonderful guitarist, and by all accounts a fine human being also.

I saw Jack Rose play in 2006, at the Luminaire in London. It was a good gig, Jack's intense and finely-textured performance sadly overshadowed by the London malaise: indie scenesters on freebies chatting their way through the performance. A bête noire. But I digress. 

Jack Rose is dead; a fire is out; the world is a poorer, meaner, colder place.

You can find some videos and audio streams on his MySpace page. But better, buy some of his music and play it, and enjoy it, and think of the man and those he leaves behind, whom he loved and who loved him.

Requiescat in pace, Jack Rose.