who kind of died before he died. But he was barely a decade older than me and his songs were the soundtrack of my growing up.

He and Farah Fawcett died in the same week - and I really did feel suddenly old.

Oh my Action Man, oh my Space Dust, oh my innocence and wonder - long ago.

I didn't know him personally. I met him once, and know a couple of people that did know him, but I didn't. However, in the retiring hours of Christmas Day last year, I felt an enormous sense of loss as I heard about his death. I used to devour his work in my late teens and early twenties; I think he was our greatest living playwright, without any serious competition. Like Leonard Cohen, many were content to pass him off with a couple of ignorant and cliched references (for Cohen=depressing, read Pinter=pauses; such remarks show only ignorance) whilst entirely missing the humour, breadth and richness of his work.

Pinter obviously pissed some people off in his time. He got on the wrong side of many people, often entire institutions. Perhaps that is why, as I scrambled around the television channels for more news on the evening of December 25th 2008, all I could find was Eartha Kitt.

I don't think anyone had a bad word to say about George Harrison.

Except Ian MacDonald.

Johnny & Joey & Dee-Dee, Joe Strummer, Lee Brilleaux, Ian Dury, Lux Interior, Link Wray : all of whom were inspirations for me to get involved in music, and all of whom still make me think of that first flash of excitement.

But the death that affected me most was Kai Davidson. Kai was the bassist in The Cateran, who were contemporaries of my band The Beat Poets, and he went on to manage the Proclaimers at the start of their career. He wasn't a close friend, I only met him a few times, but he was a great enthusiast and supporter of all kinds of music, and I always looked forward to seeing him and hearing what he had got going on.

A trust has been set up in his memory : http://www.kaidavidsontrust.com/index.php

As noted in this month's mag Kevin died in December 2004 and I felt the loss quite badly. Although I'd admired his stuff for years it was only in the last that he started being a friend and would call for a chat.
I've met people who thought he could do no wrong but the reality is he was a flawed human being whose songs reflected his failings and of those he saw about him. So nothing you could tell me would deflect from the music because he never pretended to be a Saint or wanted to be held in awe.
(next week sees Jon Langford, Wreckless Eric and Amy Rigby, Brendan Croker doing a series of gigs in Belgium in tribute to their Friend Kevin)

Frank Zappa's passing at the end of 1993 robbed us of a totally unique individual: great electric guitarist who more than dabbled in modern classical orchestral works, plus his well-expressed distaste of and anger at what subsequently became known as the moral majority.

They don't make 'em like that anymore.

The pop-culture death that affected me the most was Elliott Smith, but not in the way you might imagine. I was not a massive fan, and only had the two major label releases and liked those well enough. He was much in the same league as many other musicians I admired, talented and doing good work. When Jeff Buckley died I was devastated, and looking back, I think that was because it was how I was supposed to feel. Every rock death is supposed to get you that way especially in this era of instant, always-on communication.

Elliott was different. I heard the news, and the first thought that came into my head was "I've been backing the wrong horse." In other words, investing too much importance in people who I don't know and never will know, and some of whom are, in reality, no more or less talented than some of my actual friends. It changed my attitude to rock stars completely - so in that sense, part of my childhood did die right there and then, but not in the way it's supposed to. Why should we care about them? In the most part they might as well be cartoon characters.

...about Zappa and one of the few whose reputation has only grown since their death. A one-off and if we see his like again, we'll be so lucky

...Spike Milligan's death was perhaps an odd marker for childhood's end - but my dad had reared me on the Goons, and the books were a huge part of my growing up. Toward the end, I used to see him on TV, looking frailer and frailer and almost cross my fingers that he would make it through the interview, perhaps even show some flashes of past brilliance.

Despite his age, it was a shock to hear he'd gone. Regardless of his (apparent, I didn't know him) character flaws, his life was truly alive to me, probably because of his warts and all war memoirs, and the familiarity of his spoken voice.

I shall have to re-read Puckoon now.

Interestingly, I was 10 when John Lennon died, and I can remember the jolt of shock (as that would mean no more Beatles music - I still assumed they all lived in the conjoined terrace house of 'Help'), but I was quite pleased, as they showed said film as a tribute later.

and for a couple of reasons. I had recently seen him at Birmingham Town Hall - he was on top form and in a great mood. I had seen him two years prior and he was grumpy and disinterested. He played Rock Salt and Nails and his voice is perfect for this song. I took my brother with me to the Birmingham gig - he was a late convert being turned onto his music a mere couple of months before he died. I heard the news while surfing ceefax. I was incredulous. Yes he wasn't in the best of health but it was too soon surely?? The tributes that so eloquently mourned his passing by the Word faithful were incredible.

Same with Ian Dury - saw his last tour, physically frail but a heart as big as a lions and a humour to match. Wonderful man.

Outside of pop I also was deeply saddened by the premature dearth of John Smith who was destined to be one of the best Prime Ministers of this country.