Brian Blain: 05/12/1929 – 09/10/2022

A tireless advocate for UK jazz and its musicians, the promoter, writer, and activist Brian Blain has died aged 92. Latterly prominent as the programmer of the yearly jazz series at Lauderdale House, the arts centre in Highgate, London, Brian had previously chaired the Jazz Centre Society, been a director of Jazz Services and a valued contributor to Melody Maker and Jazz UK magazine.

Born in Salford, he taught at a junior school in Lancashire before moving to London, re-training as a PE teacher and working in the East End. He then became an official of the Musicians Union staying in post for the rest of his career. He helped launch the union’s ‘Keep Music Live’ programme, travelling the length of the UK organising big band and rock workshops, with Val Wilmer as the scheme’s supporting photographer. Alert to newer and more adventurous forms of jazz and always open-minded, he saw to it that jazz and rock musicians joined the Union and pushed to ensure that women musicians and non-white players received their proper due. Brian also edited the Union’s magazine for several decades, continuing to do so well into his retirement.

Brian Blain (left) pictured in 2017 at the Swanage Jazz Festival (Photo by Peter Vacher)

A habitué at Ronnie Scott’s – they hosted a party for his retirement – he was known at every other London venue, however small, where jazz was happening. Left-leaning, an ardent Manchester City fan, loquacious – no conversation with Brian was ever short – and always questioning, Brian’s love of jazz modernism dated from his schooldays when he first heard the youthful Tubby Hayes with Kenny Baker in a local dancehall. Once in London he wrote reviews for Melody Maker as ‘Christopher Bird’, also contributing to other outlets, one highlight being his memoir of legendary drummer Phil Seamen, ‘I Remember Phil’, this widely reproduced. More recently, he reviewed for Jazz UK, first under John Fordham’s editorship, then for Roger Thomas, Fordham often driven to distraction as he sought to decipher Brian’s rather ramshackle copy. Although self-deprecating about his journalism, Brian didn’t need to be. He knew what he was about, loved the music and its practitioners and thought deeply about its future. A regular at Swanage where his concert introductions were often anecdotal yet always illuminating, Brian was the most convivial of companions. It was just a joy to be in his company.

Away from jazz, Brian, and his wife Maureen (known as Mo) were keen fell-walkers and travellers, devoted to their family and grandchildren and it is to Mo, their children Sarah and Matthew, and the four grandchildren that we offer our heartfelt condolences. As Richard Williams said, “He was the best friend jazz in London could have had.” Amen to that.