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| DJ Derek's funeral attracts hundred of well-wishers in Bristol | DJ Derek's funeral attracts hundred of well-wishers in Bristol |
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| It was a wonderfully eclectic but inclusive funeral service. A DJ deck stood beside the altar and the congregation swayed and nodded to sweet reggae, jazz and R&B as well as Bible readings and a very traditional English 19th-century hymn. Hipsters rubbed shoulders with community elders; a music superstar slipped discreetly in; the mix of black and white was about 50/50. | |
| All were there to pay tribute to DJ Derek, dubbed the blackest white man in Bristol, a former accountant turned reggae enthusiast who used to wow the late night ravers at Glastonbury when he was well into his senior years – and is also credited with doing more than his fair share to build good race relations in the south-west. | All were there to pay tribute to DJ Derek, dubbed the blackest white man in Bristol, a former accountant turned reggae enthusiast who used to wow the late night ravers at Glastonbury when he was well into his senior years – and is also credited with doing more than his fair share to build good race relations in the south-west. |
| An extraordinary life ended in tragedy. DJ Derek – Derek James Serpell-Morris – went missing in July 2015. After a high-profile search his remains were discovered in undergrowth close to the Cribbs Causeway shopping mall in March. The circumstances of his death remain unclear. | |
| On Friday hundreds attended his funeral service in St Agnes church in St Pauls, the Bristol area where he had lived – and performed – since the late 70s. | On Friday hundreds attended his funeral service in St Agnes church in St Pauls, the Bristol area where he had lived – and performed – since the late 70s. |
| Related: The life and death of DJ Derek, an unlikely reggae legend | Related: The life and death of DJ Derek, an unlikely reggae legend |
| Mourners in the church included Daddy G, of Bristol group Massive Attack, who had known Derek for decades and once described him as a “an ambassador for cultural exchange”. | Mourners in the church included Daddy G, of Bristol group Massive Attack, who had known Derek for decades and once described him as a “an ambassador for cultural exchange”. |
| Many others could not get into St Agnes and followed the service from the street and the nearby adventure playground, dancing and singing along to the music that was relayed to the crowds outside via giant speakers. At times it felt more like a carnival than a funeral. | Many others could not get into St Agnes and followed the service from the street and the nearby adventure playground, dancing and singing along to the music that was relayed to the crowds outside via giant speakers. At times it felt more like a carnival than a funeral. |
| The congregation was given a run-through of Derek’s extraordinary life. He was born in 1941 in Bristol, the son of a carpenter and a housewife. He first heard a black voice singing in the late 1940s when he tuned into US forces radio but his initial foray into the world of music was playing washboard in a skiffle group and drumming in a rock’n’roll band. | The congregation was given a run-through of Derek’s extraordinary life. He was born in 1941 in Bristol, the son of a carpenter and a housewife. He first heard a black voice singing in the late 1940s when he tuned into US forces radio but his initial foray into the world of music was playing washboard in a skiffle group and drumming in a rock’n’roll band. |
| To begin, his career was conventional. He became an accountant for the chocolate company Fry’s, and in the early 1960s he discovered Jamaican music and began attending parties in St Pauls. It was a time when white and black people did not mix much. However, he was welcomed by members of the African-Caribbean community. | |
| His brother, Gerald, told how Derek had a crisis in his life in the late 70s when he lost his father and his second marriage ended badly. In 1978, he moved into a dark, basement flat with no central heating in St Pauls and quit his job. His brother said: “He felt at home in a culture he had come to admire and love and where he had many West Indian friends.” | |
| He found work DJing at the Star & Garter, a pub popular with Bristolians of West Indian origin, under the name DJ Derek Sweet Memory Sounds and introduced each record in Jamaican patois, which he had learned in a barber shop. “From those small beginnings he became a legend,” said Gerald. Derek was in constant demand for birthday parties, weddings and retirement parties. People said they booked him ‘because the love comes through’.” | |
| By the mid-2000s he was regularly playing festivals. His friend and collaborator Aiden Larkin told the congregation he first came upon Derek when the older man was DJing in a tent at Glastonbury. He and his friends could not believe this “skinny old fellah” was playing such brilliant music – and introducing the tunes in a “rasping West Indian accent”. | By the mid-2000s he was regularly playing festivals. His friend and collaborator Aiden Larkin told the congregation he first came upon Derek when the older man was DJing in a tent at Glastonbury. He and his friends could not believe this “skinny old fellah” was playing such brilliant music – and introducing the tunes in a “rasping West Indian accent”. |
| Larkin invited Derek to play a regular gig in Oxford which would draw black people, white people, Asians and hippies, all in thrall to a man who looked like a “little old librarian”. Larkin said the local hospital told him they often had a staffing crisis on nights Derek played. | Larkin invited Derek to play a regular gig in Oxford which would draw black people, white people, Asians and hippies, all in thrall to a man who looked like a “little old librarian”. Larkin said the local hospital told him they often had a staffing crisis on nights Derek played. |
| Some may have enjoyed the novelty value of a white, bespectacled former accountant who wore cardigans and bright waistcoats playing Jamaican music but Derek was genuinely admired and respected in the music world. | Some may have enjoyed the novelty value of a white, bespectacled former accountant who wore cardigans and bright waistcoats playing Jamaican music but Derek was genuinely admired and respected in the music world. |
| He recalled how Derek introduced himself to Toots Hibbert of Toots and the Maytals, and now Hibbert said: “You don’t have to tell me who you are. You’re the white man who talks the people’s talk and plays the people’s music.” Larkin and Derek even toured with Bob Marley’s legendary band the Wailers. | He recalled how Derek introduced himself to Toots Hibbert of Toots and the Maytals, and now Hibbert said: “You don’t have to tell me who you are. You’re the white man who talks the people’s talk and plays the people’s music.” Larkin and Derek even toured with Bob Marley’s legendary band the Wailers. |
| DJ Derek often used to end his sets with Bob Marley’s One Love. Larkin did the same with his eulogy: “Derek, we’ll miss you and we’ll never forget you. You inspired us, one love Derek.” | DJ Derek often used to end his sets with Bob Marley’s One Love. Larkin did the same with his eulogy: “Derek, we’ll miss you and we’ll never forget you. You inspired us, one love Derek.” |