Ode to her family

Since Christmas, I'd been mulling over a new blog series. Well, I say that like I'd had an original idea, but it was more "inspired by" than original, as they say these days. Basically, inspired by Rol's excellent Records I Bought Because I Fancied The Singer series, I was mulling over something I had given the working title of "Records By Women Of Nineties Indie That I Fancied". I know, snappy, eh?

As you can see, this idea hadn't made it past the mulling stage, partly because the draft text in my head seemed crass, partly because I thought it might embarrass me even more than the normal nonsense I write, and mostly because I had stalled at seven women and really wanted to do a top ten run-down, TOTP-style (or, indeed, Rol-style).

And then yesterday, one of those Women Of Nineties Indie That I Fancied died suddenly and unexpectedly, at the ridiculous age of 46, and I'm not mulling any more.

I saw The Cranberries live once, 30th July 1995, in the enormity of the Milton Keynes Bowl, where they were supporting R.E.M. on their Monster tour. It was quite a line-up that day, with Sleeper and Radiohead also on the bill. The Cranberries were at the height of their popularity then, with the excellent resource Setlist.fm suggesting they played 118 gigs that year. They played nine songs that day, including Linger, I Can't Be With You, Zombie and Dreams. And, with no disrespect to the rest of the band, it was Dolores who held the audience captive that afternoon, even those who were far, far back in the crowd, like me, sweltering (suncream-less) on the hottest day of the year.

I know that there are some for whom Dolores's distinctive vocal style grated, but not me. I loved it, and still do. And I know there were some, back in those days before the Good Friday Agreement, who felt the lyrics to Zombie were, at best, naïve and, at worst, well, a lot worse. But there was a lot of love for that song and those lyrics on social media last night.

There's no cause of death given in any of the press coverage yet. Gigs last year were cancelled due to back problems, which some might question now. Others will mutter darkly and without substantiation about her recent bipolar diagnosis, putting two and two together in a desperate attempt to make five. A pox on those others, frankly. All that matters is that a talented individual, whose musical gifts brought joy and happiness to countless thousands around the world, has gone, tragically early and, worse still, leaves three children behind.

I don't do R.I.P. obits often but, to paraphrase, everybody else is doing it, so why can't I? Rest easy, Dolores.