Tommy Cherry

Tuesday, June 28, 2022

There are cool people, and there are really cool people, and Tommy Cherry is part of that grouping. Tommy, from Scotland, is not a noun but a verb because I sense his brain worked over time. I have met many curators, but Tommy is truly a custodian on a subject matter he knows pretty well. Himself and the culture that surrounded him. Like the late and great Duncan Hannah, one can pronounce a name such as The Small Faces or Jean-Luc Godard, and we understand each other. No description word or phrase is needed, and Tommy Cherry is part of that grouping.

Tommy doesn’t love just an artist, but the entire package that an artist has in their hands, whether it’s a book, a work of cinema, and then, of course, the music. The 1971 version of the band Alice Cooper is not only a rock n’ roll band with theatrics but a portal to a world that Tommy found fascinating. And of course, Alice is not only Alice, but one must study and appreciate The Sensational Alex Harvey Band. Tommy found Alex, like his namesake, sensational in every way possible. Tommy loved life, and I feel that he loved bands that expressed life on a stage with costumes, props, and always a sense of humor. It’s no surprise that he loved the San Francisco band The Tubes, who was a favorite of mine in the 1970s. Like Alex and Alice, The Tubes had the vision thing down but also outstanding music. It was sexual, violent, troublesome, and fun. Tommy knew how to take that ride, and he never got off that ride until he died. And since I don’t know what death is like afterward, he may still be riding that wild surf.

Tommy and I never met face-to-face, nor have we ever talked on the telephone or do Zoom. Our communication medium was through Facebook on each other’s postings or messages. I do not remember how we first connected, but for me, it must have been one of the numerous and significant posts he did on Facebook. He would write about music as a memoir. It was never about the band or artist but more about how he was affected by that music or work of cinema. His knowledge of Scottish or British TV shows is beyond insanity. The reason why I got along with him is that I’m exactly like Tommy Cherry. I define myself by not looking at a mirror but by looking at my book library, DVDs, and music collection. If one wants to know me, all they have to do is go through my library or music, and they will get the full portrait of who I am. I suspect that if I went through Tommy’s stuff, it would be the same deal.

Tommy was very opinionated, and his dislike of The Clash was something I bonded with him. All of my very dear friends love The Clash. I can’t stand them. So, when you are online with a fellow, and he says, “You too,” it’s an amazing occurrence. Hating a band is pretty much the same as loving a band, and no one should be offended by one’s negative feelings about a specific type of music or group. But there you go again; that is the identity one obtains when you feel passionate about art, it turns into a dandified approach to life. And make no mistakes about it; Tommy was 100% dandy.

I don’t have that many male friends, mainly due to how they dress or wear their hair. Being a snob is a difficult position to take in life, but I take it seriously, and so did the two other men I loved, Duncan and Tommy. I’m not sure I’m that open to the world, but Tommy and Duncan accepted their surroundings with great cheer and humor. Tommy was working on writings about his upbringing and the culture around it. Once that is edited, I know it will be a terrific read. Even a classic! But Tommy was also a musician, and his band, The Bachelor Pad, was magnificent. Indeed an organic continuation of Syd Barrett if he stuck to music or kidnapped Tommy’s body and continued to do the good work. Or maybe if both joined Scotland’s other great band, Associates. One also hears traces of the classic John Barry soundtrack music, and even more of a pleasure for me; there is a hint of Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich. Especially songs like the romantic Last Night in Soho. Tommy and his bandmates combined everything he was interested in as an aural piece of art.

Being selfish, I’m going to miss Tommy’s observations on music, the most obscure British/Scottish comic strip, and cinema/TV shows in his collection of listings from the 1970s. It takes a taste and the right combination of wit, appreciation, disgust, and acknowledgment of a culture that came and went, but if you rub your eyes and ears, you can hear and see it. At the moment, social media is alive but is also dead without Tommy’s ongoing input for the fans of his daily posts. Since he died, I feel social media is now dead as well. I’m sad but disappointed that I can’t spend time in Tommy’s living world. The good news is that he was a dynamic writer, and his work will be published over time. To me, Tommy is not dead; he’s very much alive.