I’ve just arrived home, my throat is ragged, and my eyes are red.
It’s been an emotional day. Some people have lost a friend, a mother has lost a son, and Wales has lost an icon.
Stuart Cable, former drummer with the band Stereophonics, passed away today, at the far too young age of 40. I’ve spent that last 45 minutes driving home, listening to the ‘Phonics early work, songs which shaped my life for quite a while. I don’t think it’s too much to say that they had a hand in some of the most important decisions I’ve made in life.
I don’t intend this to be a biography of Stuart’s life, other people will do that far better than I ever could. This is a personal account of how Stuart Cable has, however indirectly, influenced my life, mainly due to his role in the band, the Stereophonics.
For a start, their first album, “Word Gets Around” inspired me to progress with learning to play guitar, which led to many gigs with my friend Mark, playing acoustic numbers in the pubs and clubs of Port Talbot and some surrounding towns. I learned a lot about myself in those days, facing a lot of fears, and conquering some of them.
The Stereophonics ignited my love of music, those early tracks about living in a small town in South Wales spoke to me, as I’m sure they did to many others like me. The goldfish bowl of the valleys, the parochial nature of the South Wales people, it was all there, and I couldn’t help but identify with it. From the moment my younger brother ran into the house from a gig the ‘Phonics had done at the Princess Royal Theatre in town, telling me all about this band that were just amazing, they’ve been at least a backdrop to my life, often a driving force, none more so than Stu.
In 1999, I went to Morfa Stadium to watch them, before the council tore the stadium down. I was 21. It was one of the best experiences of my life. To see a band you’ve followed reach the heights of playing in front of fifty thousand people, all there for them, was quite stunning. I hope you realise that I’m not trying to be patronising when I say this, but I was so proud, immensely so, to hear that many people singing along to songs that I’d taken into my heart, my soul, it truly felt like a momentous national occasion. Because that’s what it was, a national event. This band, along with the Manics, Catatonia, and the Super Furry Animals, had made it cool to be Welsh. All of a sudden, my accent wasn’t a joke, it was like the Phonics, or the Manics, and I was unbelievably happy. Because of my gigs, and the popularity of these bands, I wasn’t a laughing stock any more, not the geeky kid from school, I was the one singing “As Long As We Beat The English” before the rugby. (We beat them that year by the way, although it was clearly a tongue in cheek shout out.)
Roll on a couple of years, and the Phonics were hitting the heights, critically, and commercially. Performance and Cocktails had yielded their first number one album, and the first single from that album, Bartender and the Thief, went straight in at number three in the singles chart. I remember sneaking home from college to hear the first listen on Radio One. Me and my brother were so excited. I later remember watching a “making of” video, where Stu was not at all happy to be stuck in the back of beyond at two in the morning, making a video where they had to run away from an army. Still, he managed to swear enough for it not to matter….
Soon after that, the internet arrived at my house. Happy times! I wanted to follow all the Phonics did, much to the rolling of eyes from my parents and friends. After discovering the official Stereophonics website, I then discovered a forum, and chat room, where I could talk about all things Phonics with people seemingly as keen as I was. It was there that I met a girl called ClareBear, who showed a newcomer like me how to converse on chat sites, how to make it appear I wasn’t a complete novice, and an idiot, all in one go. We soon found a strong friendship, and I recognised a soul very similar to my own. We became strong, albeit virtual, friends. It would be a long time before we actually met, but in the meantime, she helped me through a very difficult time in my life, having moved away from home, and with going through a difficult relationship. All this remember, because of a band formed by three friends in Cwmaman, only a few miles up the road from where I grew up.
After a few difficult years, I reconnected with ClareBear, and we agreed to meet up. After all, we knew each other really well, we’d both experienced each others lives and provided a foil for the other. I hate to use cliches (I don’t, I really love to), but it was love at first sight. Well, probably. It was on my part anyway. We ended up having a great night out, listening to some great music, and I vaguely remember playing air guitar to “Local Boy” at some point…. At any rate, the seeds of our relationship were sown, although I get the feeling that had happened much earlier, while we were still talking on the Phonics chatroom.
A few years later, and I had moved closer to where ClareBear (let’s call her Clare from here on in) lived, soon after proposing, and luckily having received a nice answer. We got married in 2006, three years to the day that we met (26th July, in case you want specifics).
It’s strange to think, that if it wasn’t for a few good mates getting together and forming a band, I wouldn’t have found my confidence, my strength to stand up and be counted, and more important than anything, I wouldn’t have found the love of my life.
I never actually met Start Cable, although Clare has on a number of occasions. She, and everyone else I’ve spoken to who has, speaks of him in the highest regard. Of how he was the nicest man you could meet, how his voice stirs deep national passion, how above all else, he would make you feel like you were the most important person to him right then.
I can’t begin to feel how Kelly, Richard, Mable, and all of Stuart’s nearest and dearest feel today, I can only add my condolences and hope that it’s enough.
The only other thing I can add is to thank him for being such an important part of my life, though he’ll never know it.
RIP Stu, you’ll be missed more than you’ll ever know.
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2 Responses to “Local Boy In The Photograph”
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Yes, beautifully put. A lovely story and I’m glad you have each other to know how you each feel today. Was never a fan of the band, but this helps me see the impact of them and that wave of music on Wales.
beautifully said