I’m becoming fairly desensitised to celebrities passing, but when I received a text from my Mum to say that the DJ Steve Wright had died it stopped me in my tracks. Like the shock of hearing someone you’d just seen the other day is no longer with us (there’s a reason for this that I’ll get to).
Growing up and getting into music in the mid to late 90s, I knew Steve as the voice of Top of The Pops 2. Both TOTP and TOTP2 were pretty important to my musical education in a pre-internet home.
I liked TOTP2 and Steve’s tongue-in-cheek commentary because I was learning facts about the records and artists from before my time, without a patronising tone of “this is better than what youngsters are listening to today” to make me feel a need to rebel against what I was being taught.
During the pandemic, with less new music being released, I found myself leaning back into the pop and chart music of my childhood, as something of a comfort blanket I guess. I’ve not missed an episode of Fearne Cotton’s Sounds of the 90s since it debuted in March 2020. The disparate mix of genres took me back to sunny Saturdays, circa 1997.
From here I disappeared down a rabbit hole, watching each re-run of Top of The Pops (from 1990 onward) on BBC4 and listening to the 90s editions of ‘Pick of The Pops’. I hadn’t minded Paul Gambaccini as host of the latter show, but I welcomed Steve taking over in Autumn last year.
I’d been saving the episodes to listen to on a Sunday night while I did my weekly housework, the same time slot that I used to sit by my stereo and write down the latest charts in my ring binder (that really makes 25 years ago sound like the dark ages doesn’t it?). Steve was top form, cracking jokes and speaking so fondly of the same throwaway pop songs and one hit wonders I’ll die on a hill defending.
The last episode of his I listened to was on Sunday 4th February, the chart year was 1996. I was away from home on this particular weekend and travelling between Leicester and Southampton for nights 1 and 2 of back-to-back gigs. Steve was our soundtrack to a journey that included a nostalgic stop off in my partner Sam’s original hometown of Rugby. I told Sam how much I’d been enjoying these shows and how great a presenter I thought Steve was.
The day after the news that Steve had passed was Valentines Day. I switched to Radio 2 while driving in the rain and within a few minutes heard Jeremy Vine break down in tears, struggling to keep it together as he read tributes from listeners. It was a strange moment that I’ll never forget and yet easily might have missed had the timings of my day worked out slightly differently.
The last song I heard Steve play on Pick of The Pops was the number one single from the week in 1996, a perfectly weird track; Babylon Zoo’s Spaceman (I like it, come at me bro).
RIP Steve, thanks for being a reminder that while our music tastes are unique, to be a music fan is a universal experience.
Liam Toms 