In 1980, the first biography of Jim Morrison, the lead singer of the Doors, was published. It was entitled ‘No one gets out of here alive’. I was attracted by that title because it rather sums up my philosophy of life. I am reminded of its truth every time someone dies. Yesterday, I learned of the death of someone I greatly admired, a wonderfully talented man who, for a giddy period back in the 1980s, gave me the musically soundtrack of my life.
Kevin McFadden, who died on 1 July 2018, was that man. Not, I know, a name that many people have heard of. He was the leader of a Bristol based band called Misdemeanor. McFadden wrote the songs, sang the songs and played lead guitar. Granted there were a few covers in the Misdemeanor set list, including Bruce Springsteen’s Cadillac Ranch, U2’s I Will Follow and and Star Jets’ War Stories, but the bulk of the songs, and the ones we all liked best, were from McFadden’s personal song book.
Misdemeanor had a unique sound, albeit with the influences of those mentioned above. And they really rocked. Once I saw them play, I wanted to watch them play over and over again. Every club and venue in Bristol and surrounding areas, I went along. I not only knew the songs, I knew the words. Incredibly, for a local band, they became my favourite band. The charismatic spiky haired singer, pounding away on his electric guitar, leading this tight, powerful rocking band, playing some of the best music I had ever heard.
I was desperate to get a record of this band in action. I once had a cassette of Misdemeanor performing Indian Times, one of their classics, but I wanted an album. Then, they disappeared and I thought those days were gone. In the intervening years, the earworms would remain. I’d be driving somewhere and singing Shadows of Love or Radio Radio or Stereo Heartbreak and, my absolute favourite, Walking Through The Turnstiles. I would never forget Kevin McFadden.
Then, many years later, I got an email from Mike Darby from Sugar Shack records who told me that he had managed to – what’s the word? – remaster the original tapes of some Misdemeanor songs and was putting them on iTunes. He did and suddenly, wonderfully, the songs of my twenties were alive and well, as was, I was thrilled to discover, Kevin McFadden.
I corresponded with him from time to time. He lived in California and was still making music. Hope springs eternal, as they say, and the thought that, after all this time, I might be able to listen to new material from the man who game me Misdemeanor. Then, that email.
It turned out that McFadden had returned to the UK earlier this year. I knew nothing about the circumstances, like where he lived and what he was now doing. I now wish I had. I had emailed him to tell him what his music meant to me and I would love to have told him in person. Now, I will never be able to.
The funeral will be at Canford Lane on 24th July. I don’t know the time yet but I aim to be there, even though I haven’t seen him since the 1980s, never really knew him ‘properly’, know nothing of his life. His family want everyone who knew him, who loved his music, to come along.
What I do know is that Kevin McFadden and his band Misdemeanor made my life better through the great music he wrote and performed. It will always be a musical crime to me that he never really made it when so many with little or no talent did make it. Sadly, that is life, how it was, how it is, how it will always be.
I will be there at Canford Lane to say goodbye, to show my respects and say my thanks. My thoughts are with his family and friends at this sad time. If I am sad about his loss, I can only imagine the devastation they are feeling.
