Comedy

Hardee: giant buoyancy aids, not pictured (© Barry J Holmes)

He had various foibles, for which he was forgiven. He used to steal: cats frequently, anything from bathrooms. Once, he and Jane dropped by my flat in Stoke Newington. Malcolm was drunk, of course. We chatted for a bit. Malcolm went to the toilet. He took ages. We could hear him making exaggerated crashing-around noises. When he finally came back and sat down, I said: ‘All right, what have you nicked?’ Sheepishly, he pulled a tiny bottle of my girlfriend’s essential oils from his coat and placed it on the table. Too quick. ‘Yes. And what else?’ Another tiny bottle was produced. We repeated this procedure, over and over, until 40 minutes later the entire contents of the bathroom was arrayed in front of us – soap, shampoo, flannels, everything – Jane made him swear there was nothing else. When it was time to go, we were helping him down the stairs when I noticed an overwhelming smell. Malcolm had emptied a bottle of perfume over his coat. Feature continues

Malcolm was a philosopher. His philosophy can be stated in two words: ‘Fuck it’. What does that mean? Forget about it, what’s done is done, let’s move on. As two-word philosophies go, it’s hard to beat. ‘Moan moan moan,’ he’d say, just at the right moment, when someone had slipped into complaining mode.

He wrote an autobiography entitled ‘I Stole Freddy Mercury’s Birthday Cake’. If ever I write one, it will be called ‘Malcolm Hardee Broke My Glasses’. The incident occurred after a gig in Greenwich. As usual, we all piled back to his place for boozy shenanigans. ‘Oi oi Simon, give us your glasses,’ he said, and I complied. He tried to do a trick where you pop the lens out, but they were old frames and the glasses snapped. So there I was, stuck on the wrong side of London in the middle of the night, blind drunk and now blind. A slow rage started bubbling in my gut. It was instantly calmed when Malcolm said, ‘Fuck it’, pulled his own glasses off and snapped them in two as well. Of course, he didn’t have as far to travel to get to bed.

Malcolm’s importance to the alternative comedy scene cannot be overstated. Oh yes, it can. I did it just then. He helped many acts when they were starting out, myself included. We loved him dearly. He touched a lot of people in the Greenwich and Blackheath areas – something to do with the overcrowding and poor street lighting. He loved a drink, and he loved the river. His demise taught me to be careful when combining your passions. God bless you, Malcolm; may you rest in peace.

Malcolm Hardee drowned in the Thames on Jan 31 2005. A star-studded Malcolm Hardee Charity Cabaret takes place at the Hackney Empire (020 8985 2424) on Jan 28.