I never did get a good photo of Justin Jay drumming. He moved too fast.
The last time I spoke to Justin was the day I found out I got my new job. Ran into him at the back bar of the Casbah after The Thermal’s show, and even though it had been awhile since I’d last seen him, we fell right away into a great conversation. As the bar shut down, he invited me to join him at Turf Club for a drink. I declined, saying that I had to go home to buy my plane tickets for South Africa. He told me that I was amazing for going literally halfway around the world on a whim.
And that was Justin in a nutshell. He always told you exactly what he thought of you, and it was always better than what you thought of yourself.
He was the really amazing one.
I can’t believe he’s gone.
I loved him, as I know so many people did, and I hope we can all keep a little piece of his spirit with us – hug our loved ones harder, love our friends a little bit more, make our acquaintances into friends. And if you want to wear a fucking ridiculous outfit out to a show, DO IT.
I’ll miss the hell out of you, Justin. I already do.
(Panoramic photo taken in the Klein Karoo, South Africa.)