We all have a guide. We all have someone who guided us through that difficult and painful process of growing up. Mine was Adrian Borland. Not because he possessed role model qualities. Not even because his band, The Sound, was my favourite band during my late teens. It was just that his music appealed most to my darkly poetic and slightly sinister soul. It was pure symbiosis. Adrian was me, I was Adrian.

By the time I hit my teenage years Ian Curtis was already dead, David Bowie was just too much of an icon of the past, and with every line of make up Robert Smith applied The Cure got more commercial. So was there really an alternative? I’m sorry Adrian, phrasing it like this doesn’t do you justice, I’m only trying to explain to the reader, it doesn’t mean you were second choice.

‘Jeopardy’ and ‘From the Lion’s Mouth’ I stole from a friend. Or rather, he lend me those and I gave him ‘In the Court of the Crimson King’ and my father’s ‘White Album’. Quite a good deal, don’t you think? Do you see now how important you were? Critics never loved ‘All Fall Down’, but I did, I loved it, and I still love it 30 years later. I saw you playing with your new band in 1992. The gig was in Para, in beautiful Breda. As many as 70 people were there apparently, so me and my girlfriend were 3% of your audience that night. It made me feel special. Breda was really far away for me. That night in 1992 was the first and only time I travelled to Breda for a concert.

And then you committed suicide. It was April 1999, shortly before my 30th birthday. Sometimes it snows in April. I can’t blame you, you were suffering from severe depression. My brother is schizophrenic. I know a bit what mental illness does to a person.

My soul misses you, especially when I need a little guidance. It’s quiet without your voice.