Wolfram and MusicThere are parts of Wolf’s life that I know very little about, and parts about which I know nothing at all. Music is one of those areas. I know Wolf had always been into music, according to him he was in a rock band at school. This band later became famous as The Rattles, but he had left before that (kind of Pete Best manoeuvre). He claims to have recorded one number with them, ‘The Witch’. I have no idea whether any of this is true. I have very little interest in music apart from a few things - traditional jazz, Edith Piaf and the Red Army.
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Wolf could play guitar and drums, but his main interest was in sound recording, and he was brilliant at this. He had a mixing desk and various bits of kit that did heaven knows what, and all this came with him when he moved in with me. He added to this over the years, sometimes without discussing it with me - coming home with a new machine under his arm. He had found a shop that let him have these things on ten months interest free credit, and just when I thought I had something paid for, he would roll home with another one. There was not much spare cash in our house, and I found it a burden. Anyway, it kept him happy.
I always encouraged Wolf in any pursuit he was interested in, so when he was asked to join a band I was as pleased as he was. But I am afraid this was the beginning of the end. He always had a problem with drink, but living with me he was able to keep it under control. But once he was out playing, or practising with the band, the drink got out of hand. The company he was keeping was not of the best, either. Far be it from me to dictate to anyone, but I tried to point out to him that things were not going well with us. I told him to take a close look at his friends, who were all divorced, drinking too much and had alcoholic girlfriends. I said if he wanted to live like that he had better get an alcoholic girlfriend too. Unfortunately, that was what he did.
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I had always had two premonitions about Wolf, from the time we first met. Every time I saw his mother’s address and phone no in my address book, the thought would come into my head “I hope I never have to ring her up and tell her he is dead”. The other was that one day he would come in and say, “Tara Val, I’m going to live with Mrs . . . X”. Both these things came to pass. He met Sheila Baxendale at some gig, and on Feb 13 2003 he walked out and went to live with her. This was shattering for me. I had always thought I would cope, as I look on change as an opportunity, but I was wrong. I was emotionally devastated. But we were never really apart. There was communication all the way and I was always there for him at the end of a phone. He went to Ireland in the summer of 2005, to make a new start. His ‘romance’ failed and he could not live with what he had done. I visited him in December 2005, and in February 2006 I had to make that phone call to his mother. He simply dropped dead. It wasn’t until the following May that I got the results of the post mortem. Massive glioma (brain tumour),
Wolf, rest in peace. None of it matters when we are in spirit. |