Half an hour later he telephoned me saying that Helga Colquhoun had emailed me confirming that Mick had died without regaining consciousness. It goes without saying that we are all completely devastated.
Because Gonzo recently became The Deviants record label, we received a considerable number of inquiries asking for news. As some of the initial reports implied that Mick was alive in hospital, I asked Graham to find out as much information as possible for me, which he did tactfully and kindly. I would like to thank him publically for all he did in regard to this difficult situation in my absence.
Bob Dylan once said about Johnny Cash "You could set your compass by [him], no matter where you were, he was always heading in the same direction, steady and true..." I would like to say the same thing about Mick Farren
I am not going to claim that Mick Farren and I were friends. I only met him once, and had about three enjoyable telephone conversations as well, but I like to think that he and I would soon have become friends. Because Mick was everything that I aspire to be. A massively principled man with the heart of a revolutionary, a childlike and wicked sense of humour, an immense talent and a social conscience second to none. His version of that much maligned term anarchism, and mine, were and are almost identical. Above all he was a kind, ethical and gentle man, whom - one would suspect much to his amusement - my late father would have described as very much a gentleman. I had great love and respect for him, and I hope that in the weeks, months and years to come, as part of Gonzo Multimedia we shall help bring his invaluable work, and inspirational legacy to new generations.
Rest in Peace Mick.
When I Am Dead, My Dearest
When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget.
I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget.
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget.
I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget.
~Christina Rossetti