MY HEART + THE REAL WORLD WITH RICH…
On Tuesday, December 28th 1993, Steve Burgess tragically died of a heart attack.
He was just 24 years old, married to Chrissy, with 2 daughters Amanda + Rebecca, aged 7 years + 3 months respectively.
Some of you may have known Steve from the bands THIRST, (+ earlier) ALL THE GLORY + CORPORATE GRAVE + as part of the Southampton punk/ hardcore scene over the last 8 or 9 years. To me, he was my best friend.
When I heard the news (whilst at the tranquillity of my Mum’s, in rural west Wales), I was numb. It didn’t sink in. It seemed so unreal like it was a big wind-up + suddenly Steve was going to turn up + say “Not Really!”.
Then came the tears + the pain. Tears of sadness, tears of anger at how cruel + unfair this world is, that someone with so much love, so much to live for, with so much purpose to his life, could be taken from us. My thoughts were with Chrissy + his family.
At times, I felt cheated – so many things I’d never be able to share with Steve. We all think we’re so invulnerable, take our lives for granted, that we’re going to be around for the next 40 years or so.
We never consider how fragile our existence is.
What can’t be taken away from me are my memories. I went to the
same school (Alderman Quilley in Eastleigh) as Steve + we became friends through punk rock. Going with him to his first gig (CONFLICT in Bournemouth), when he was just 15, forming our own punk rock band in his bedroom (the prototype CORPORATE GRAVE), seeing him on stage later on tape + record. Having the privilege of being the Best Man at his + Chrissy’s wedding + both of us being absolutely terrified of making our speeches! Witnessing what a proud father he was. So many scrapes + so many laughs…
Steve was a very thoughtful person. He had very firm beliefs but also liked to test these, by questioning even those which are considered sacred cows within our scene. A few weeks before he died, we had a long discussion about bands + ethics, until 3am.
We were both exhausted but as he dropped me home, we both agreed how much we’d enjoyed the debate. Steve loved life + had a wicked sense of humour (as witnessed in his occasional ‘Danny Zuko’ column for this bulletin).
Like all of us, Steve wasn’t perfect, he was a human being but it was impossible to dislike Steve – the number of people who attended his funeral is a testament to just how popular + well-liked he was. He loved + cared about his family + friends + was there when I was down + needed him.
For a time, I was thinking what’s the point in carrying on with the S.T.E. + this whole music thing. It all seemed so trivial. If that’s all it was (just music), then yes, that would be the case.
However, the friendships, feelings + sense of community spirit, that’s there in our scene, far, far outweighs mere notes + guitar sounds. At our regular Sunday night ‘Scrabble’ sessions, the day after a gig, Steve would often talk more about: the conversations he’d had with such + such rather than the bands who’d played.
If anything positive can come out of Steve’s death, it’s that you have to cherish + appreciate your friends. What we have in Southampton + the people who come to S.T.E. gigs are special – don’t take it for granted.
Right now, I’m listening to JAWBOX’s ‘Novelty’ album. Their song ‘Dreamless’ (+ the other 2 songs played at his funeral, NICK DRAKE’s ‘Pink Moon’ + ‘Texarkana’ by R.E.M.) will always remind me of Steve. I’ll miss that laugh, I’ll miss making him tapes + him making me cups of tea + vegetable pate sandwiches + above all, I’ll miss him. Right now, I still feel the pain of his loss – time heals all wounds they say but the memory will always remain.
So long Steve, your friend Rich.
12th Jan 2024 – Rich was the first person that I really connected with in Southampton from attending and playing shows at the West Indian Club. Even though Steve and I had toured together in our bands I didn’t really connect with him until later. Rich, Paul, Rob, and Steve, along with Johnny, Chrissy and Selina became the group of folks that I was closest to and despite living quite removed from them I always had a feeling of kinship and warmth. For those closer to Steve in location, the impact of his passing must have felt even crueller.
