Andy Kershaw

It feels utterly impossible to write this, to put into words the enormity of losing Andy. He died on April 18th, 2026, after a brave battle with cancer, but honestly, the sadness feels far bigger than any illness. I met Andy back in the late 80s, a nervous student volunteering at a local radio station, and he immediately took me under his wing. He had this incredible ability to make you feel like the most important person in the room, and he genuinely cared about everyone he met. I remember one time, he spent an entire afternoon tracking down a rare record for a listener – a tiny thing, really, but it perfectly encapsulated his spirit: utterly devoted to music and to the people who loved it. He wasn’t just a DJ; he was a connector, a champion of voices that often went unheard. Andy’s life was built on a ferocious love of music, a passion that stretched across continents and genres. From the dusty blues of the American South to the vibrant rhythms of Africa, he unearthed sounds that captivated and challenged listeners. He wasn’t interested in the hits; he wanted to introduce you to the stories behind the music, to the artists and the cultures that birthed them. He’d spend hours researching, travelling, and talking to musicians, always with that infectious enthusiasm. And let’s be honest, he was gloriously, wonderfully awkward – a charmingly stumbling, slightly bewildered explorer of the world, armed with a microphone and an unwavering belief in the power of music to connect us all. He was a huge part of my family, always making us laugh and encouraging us to embrace the unusual. His work on BBC Radio 1, particularly his groundbreaking shows, opened so many doors for artists and genres that were previously overlooked. And of course, who could forget his electrifying contribution to the Live Aid coverage? He brought a raw energy and genuine excitement that was utterly infectious. But beyond the broadcasting, beyond the accolades, Andy was a deeply loving husband to Sarah and a devoted father to his children, always prioritizing their happiness above all else. He instilled in them a love of learning, a curiosity about the world, and a fierce sense of empathy – qualities he championed in everyone he encountered. Andy’s legacy isn’t just in the music he played, but in the way he made people *feel*. He reminded us that the world is a vast and beautiful place, full of incredible stories waiting to be discovered. He leaves behind a void that can never be filled, but also a treasure trove of memories and a soundtrack to a life lived with passion, kindness, and an unshakeable belief in the power of a good song. We’ll miss you terribly, Andy.