David Ferguson died he was 56

David Ferguson died he was 56:

David Ferguson defended the moral rights of musicians, composers and creators. After the advent of the digital world and at a time when ideas about ownership, piracy and copyright started to be tested, he sought to make musicians aware of their rights and help them to speak to government with a coherent voice.

Underpinning all his political lobbying was a lifelong commitment to social justice and a passionate, often fiery belief in the importance of songwriters and composers to the multibillion-pound music industry.

David Ferguson was born in South London in 1953 and grew up in a fiercely political household. A love of debate ran in the family. Both his parents were Labour Party activists, although the most enduring influence on his beliefs was his maternal grandmother, Constance Lewcock. One of the original suffragettes, she had been imprisoned for plotting to blow up a railway arch at Durham in 1914. On her release she became a well-loved Labour Party councillor for Newcastle upon Tyne. Ferguson kept a picture of her with him until he died.

After attending Bessemer Grange school in Southwark, Ferguson was given a scholarship to Dulwich College in 1964. It was during this particularly liberal period in the school’s history that his interests in music, drama and political ideology really took shape.

On leaving Dulwich he took a degree in Slavonic studies at London University before taking a job with the Traverse Company in Edinburgh creating sound collages to accompany the plays. He then moved to the Victoria Theatre in Stoke-on-Trent, where his soundscapes with guitars, tapes and a modified Rolf Harris stylophone became integral to many of their productions of the early 1970s. Although lacking any formal musical training Ferguson began to explore early sound design through the use of synthesisers, keyboards, drones and tape effects. It was an imaginative approach that formed the basis of much of his later professional work.

It was a chance meeting with an old school friend, David Rhodes, at a concert by Brian Eno’s experimental rock troupe, the 801, in the autumn of 1976, that changed the course of his professional life.

The two shared a love of the esoteric sounds of Amon Düül, Neu!, Kraftwerk, Can and experimental French operatic rockers Magma. Their first band Manscheinen quickly morphed into Random Hold (named after Ferguson’s love of fruit machines) with the addition of Bill MacCormick of the 801, the singer Simon Ainsley and Michael Phips — the ex-drummer with the Glitter Band.

Early shows were edgy and exciting. At one, when he was supporting Adam and the Ants at the Rock Garden, a group of neo-Nazis stormed the stage. Ferguson emerged from behind his keyboards and invited them all to take him on one by one.

Word about Random Hold spread. A double-page spread in the Melody Maker in which he told the interviewer Allan Jones that they made “dark music for swinging suicides”, and the patronage of Peter Gabriel, ensured that the band soon became the subject of a bidding war among record companies.

The band signed to Polydor and recorded their debut album with Peter Hammill of Van der Graaf Generator at John Lennon’s former home, Tittenhurst Park. The subsequent album was not as commercial as Polydor would have liked but the band got good reviews and toured to support its release with Peter Gabriel, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark and XTC. During this period Ferguson also contributed keyboards to Peter Gabriel’s worldwide hit, Biko.

After three commercially disappointing albums, Random Hold disbanded. Rhodes joined Peter Gabriel’s band and Ferguson went into music for television. He built his own studio at his house in Waterloo and was taken on by the BBC Radiophonic workshop, which added him to its list of freelancers. His first big TV music assignment was for the 1987 Emmy and Baftawinning Granada documentary The Sword of Islam. Soon his haunting mood pieces were in demand. His work appeared on everything from thrillers to hard-hitting documentaries including Black Box, X Cars, Fire in the Blood and Under the Sun. Inspector Rebus, the much loved Auf Wiedersehen Pet and the cult Granada drama Cracker were his most notable successes.

It was while working on one high-profile commission that Ferguson took on the cause that would dominate the last 20 years of his life. He received a late-night call from an American lawyer who told him that he would “never work in this industry again” if he didn’t sign the publishing rights in his music over to the TV production company. The bullying practice of coercive publishing, where large media companies demand all rights in music compositions, including any future royalties, would become widespread.

Throughout it all, Ferguson’s passionate, often uncompromising advocacy won him the respect of even his fiercest adversaries,

In 2007 Ferguson had pancreatic cancer diagnosed. He underwent treatment and briefly entered remission. When the cancer returned late in 2008 he withdrew from public life, dedicating his remaining months to travel, gastronomy and working with his son Sam on a final music project. Recorded at Peter Gabriel’s Real World studios in Bath, the album features ex-members of Random Hold, Roxy Music and Peter Gabriel’s touring band.

In February 2009 he married Silvana, a fellow music rights activist whom he met while lobbying in France.

David Ferguson’s final public appearance was at the Ivor Novello Awards in May 2009, where he received Basca’s highest accolade, the Academy Fellowship. Typically, he chose this final platform to attempt to galvanise the industry one last time, “Get your bloody act together you lot,” he said, shaking a defiant hand at the audience.

He is survived by Sara, his formerpartner, their son Sam, and his wife Silvana.

David Ferguson, musician, composer and rights activist, was born on May 24, 1953. He died of pancreatic cancer on July 5, 2009, aged 56