DJ Derek finally laid to rest

The DJ, dressed in a sharp suit and trilby, places a record onto the turntables next to the altar where the candles flicker beneath the stained glass.

After a crackle the reggae begins and soon after come the lyrics to one of DJ Derek’s favourite songs, On Revival Day: “Have you ever seen a church begin to rock?”

The bespectacled Reverend Liz Perry, sitting behind the alter in her gown and dangling tippet, nods her head from side to side.

The funeral of Derek Serpell-Morris started in the simple but mischievous style which came to define one of Bristol’s true musical legends.

But by the time it was in full swing the packed church was clapping and rocking all the way from the nave to the the porch where a small group had managed to find some space to dance and sing.

Derek’s body arrived in style at St Agnes Church on Friday morning in a hearse dressed with a floral tribute depicting a pair of record decks.

Reggae had been drifting across St Agnes Park since the early hours from the giant speakers rigged on the doorstep of the church.

“It was always important to his family that Derek came home to St Paul’s,” Rev Perry said as she began the service moments later inside.

“Home to the place that meant so much to him.”

Derek’s brother Gerald was the first of his family to pay tribute in front of the capacity crowd which had spilled out into a second room in the church where a screen was set up, into the corridors leading to the exit and into the park where about 100 people gathered in front of the giant speakers to pay their respects.

Gerald said he was always struck when he returned to Bristol by Derek’s celebrity status.

But he added that never mattered to his brother. “What mattered most to him was that it made more people share his love for music,” he said.

In a eulogy he gave a glimpse of the man behind the celebrity – a man you have to be reminded that was only reported missing three weeks after he was last seen back in June last year. His body was found in March this year.

“He had absolutely nothing of any value,” Gerald said as he described the scene when he went into Derek’s flat in St Paul’s. “Not even a working TV. I found his Lord Mayor’s medal under a pile of maps and Weatherspoon magazines and the certificate was still in its tube.”

Aiden Larkin, the DJ and a friend of Derek’s from the live music scene, recounted tales of Derek’s charm and uncanny knack to bring together people of all backgrounds across the country for a night of rhythm & blues, swing and reggae.

“He was an antidote to an industry that strives to take itself far too seriously,” he said. “He was a catalyst for joy and companionship, bringing people together for good time.

“You left inhibition and cynicism at the door when you went to see Derek. He was an old fashioned gentleman with a streak of mischief.”

In place of a traditional prayer came a version of What a Wonderful World by Rico Rodriguez before the congregation joined for a hymn, For the Beauty of the Earth.

As the service came to a close, the hundreds of people packed into the church shuffled out to One Love, a Bob Marley classic which was another favourite of Derek’s.

Outside, a hundred or so more waited for the coffin to return, greeting it with cheers as it was lowered back into the hearse to be taken away before the parties were due to begin at Pranji’s on Corn Street and later at the Star & Garter in Montpelier, two of the old stomping grounds of Bristol’s most unlikely reggae star.

Photos by Jelena Belec

Read more: Obituary: DJ Derek