Singing to God

When the news broke on July 22 that Tim Smith, legendary founder and leader of Cardiacs, had passed away, social media of a certain persuasion was awash with single white flowers and expressions of undying love. He would have rather liked that.

Tim Smith’s music was about joy. Despite being a bit hazy on exactly when it happened, I will never forget the greatest gig I have ever witnessed: Cardiacs, at Glastonbury, in some godforsaken tent at the top of a giant hill. Virtually no one knew that the band were playing when we all arrived at the festival site, but thanks to the fact that giant crowd has a small number of secret and not-so-secret Cardiacs fans lurking in it, news swiftly spread about the show. By the along with the triumphant crescendo at the end of . Everywhere I looked, there were tear-streaked but beatific faces: the faces of Cardiacs fans, firmly in The Pond (the official name for a gathering of Cardiacs fans) where they belonged, and utterly consumed by wonderful, sizzling, spiralling, kaleidoscopic joy. As ever, Tim Smith surveyed the bouncing rapture before him and grinned, like a mischievous schoolboy.