2 years on and I’m reposting this in memory of Jack. This was recorded days after his passing and the weeks that followed were pretty surreal. His funeral was easily one of the best days in recent memory, a genuine celebration of a life that was lived to the absolute fullest. It left a lasting impact on me, renewing my gratitude for the people I’ve been fortunate enough to have in my life and reminding me why I got involved in the music scene in the first place. Real human connections that fell back into place as if no time had passed and was a reminder of what has been lost through the passage of turbulent times.
It felt like a risk to express some of these feelings publicly at the time. As many also felt similarly, I’ve been curious about why we felt so unable to do so when it mattered..
Jack has been on my mind lately, I recently revisited his old flat to help his brother move, which was a surreal experience packing up memories. Moving in more ways than one! At the same time, I have also been thinking about the work of Darren McGarvey around masculinity and also the vulnerabilities of those in the public eye. While conversations around sobriety and mental health initiatives have increased in recent years, I haven’t seen too much of this type of conversation happening within the music world itself.
Jack was elevated to a position of influence because of his ability and magnetic personality. He was well equipped for the emerging age of social media and following him was entertaining - long before content making was even a thing. He often laid bare his insecurities as much as his cocky bravado and as a result, was more accessible and engaged across a variety of scenes than the generations of DJ’s that came before him. With as many hot takes as the proverbial hot dinners, the music media loved him too and had great fun sharing his various antics, cheering on and elevating the same behaviour that they would soon go on to decry.
While I don’t wish to minimise or relitigate his actions from the summer of 2018 - something Jack copped to and attempted to make his amends - it is worth looking back on that particular era and what was else was going on in the background. At the time of Trump’s first term, Weinstein, Epstein, Time’s Up!, #metoo, there was a great deal of collective anger and frustration sweeping through the world at large and the idea of being cancelled was still a relatively new concept to grapple with. The worldwide 24/7 football phone-in as we now know it, was only just beginning to hit its stride. Comment is free and incentivised.
At the same time, a needed push for female representation meant that the lad culture long upheld by the male-dominated music press suddenly became toxic overnight. And so, Jack was quickly cast aside as an emblem of the straight white privileged male menace by the same press, fans and friends who once adored him and felt betrayed for his inability to be a pillar of virtue and the life and soul of any party.
I’ve felt conflicted about this zero-sum framing, as despite his visible success story and his fair share of blame, there was clearly a lot of vulnerability going on, a side of Jack that also made him so endearing in the first place. For better or worse, he displayed his authenticity long before it became a requirement. He seemed to be in awe at my comfort speaking to female friends, which seemed strange as he struck me as being more than socially capable. I realise on reflection, that in many ways he was just a wee guy trying to figure out his way in the world, seeking validation and approval and no less equipped to handle fame, relationships, friendships, substances or life than anyone else.
It’s unfashionable to consider complexities and nuance these days, but there is another side to his story that gets overlooked. Jack was a working-class school dropout who lost his mother early and largely grew up relying on the support of his friends. He built his career the old-fashioned way, propelled by emerging technology, raw talent, a gift for networking, boundless enthusiasm, and impeccable timing. He was elevated to the headiest of heights in a scene which glamourised partying and adored one of their own to make it.
Yet the unwritten rules were impossible: Don’t f**k it up. Get on a plane and detach yourself from reality, with people you’ve never met to look out for you. Don’t f**k it up. We haven’t booked you to be the sober guy. Don’t f**k it up. You’ve got a platform now. Don’t f**k it up. Don’t f**k it up - if you do, there will be no redemption for the likes of you.
Some of this can by summed up in an anecdote I have around the filming of a short documentary for a London based platform, made for the 10th anniversary of H+P. A camera guy went round to Jack’s flat to record some questions about how we knew each other, his support of the label, etc. Jack recorded about 40 minutes heaping praise in my direction - only for the finished cut to be reduced to one jokey line ‘What does Huntleys + Palmers mean to me? F**k all!’ An opener that was clearly a strain of Glaswegian humour that required a bit of grounding before being earnest. Without the ensuing sincerity included, this remark presents him as being reductive and snide. Unfortunately my efforts to address this misrepresentation fell on deaf ears. It was already awkies enough having people take part in something that was full of flattery, but I still feel Jack was done dirty, as the saying goes. I’ve often thought about this portrayal, I’m sure there were other instances like this, and what effect it has on the individual when they are reduced to one dimensional caricatures of themselves.
The outpouring after Jack’s passing clearly showed that there was a great deal of good will and nuanced thinking that was withheld from him during the latter years of his life. What a difference it would have made to him, to know that - in spite of everything - lots of us still felt affection, gratitude and joy towards him. I suspect many have felt conflicted and affected about how all this played out too. There is a bitter irony in how the same social platforms that accelerated his rise ultimately fuelled his downfall. With more incentives than ever to be seen in the public eye, perhaps now is a good time to reflect on the vulnerability and the unreasonable expectations we put on those who seem to have ‘made it’ and what we can do to prevent future instances. Despite the abundance of talent in Glasgow, very few have soared as high, as fast and as accomplished. The higher you climb, there are fewer paths to follow and the more perilous they become.
Do I think Jack should have lived a life without consequences? Of course not. I didn’t really connect with the laddy side of his character, but I also knew that wasn’t the full story. During this period of shifting cultural norms, his success at times felt like an inconvenience that others sought to define. He unashamedly loved TOWIE, Love Island, Rebecca Black, and Carly Rae Jepsen and various other low brow curiosities typically met with some snootiness from his detractors. He was dragged by the language police before we knew the term. Classic tall poppy syndrome, with a large slice of moralising. Yet, no one was interested in defining what should happen afterwards. Unsurprising when the discourse about dismantling, destroying and abolishing offers little in the way of building or repairing.
Another element that isn’t mentioned in these scenarios, is the uncomfortable feelings of envy. Especially the compare and despair ones we all are familiar with through the social media lens. The life of Jackmaster was a desirable one to many. He was living the life and had a career that people would pay for if they could. Conversely, few others would come out of the same experience unchanged and unscathed. I also wonder if he could cut through in the same way today? With more participants competing for fewer opportunities, the arts have became increasingly populated by those who can afford it. I can’t help but feel this was also a contributing factor as those who resented and sought to emulate his success had no issue with him being removed from polite society.
Equally the group-performing conditions of the past decade, meant that it was impossible to speak publicly about the messiness and contradictions we all share. While these conditions also affect those who live in fear of their own status being impacted, there’s something about proximity and access I’ve been thinking over lately. Jack wasn’t out of reach by any stretch, his success can be attributed to this. He looked and sounded like one of us, we wanted him to succeed, yet few wanted anything to do with him at his lowest. How prepared are we to put someone’s wellbeing ahead of our own preservation? When does personal responsibility become a collective one?
Why does all this matter? Since our first week of running Clyde Built Radio, we’ve had to consider a range of accusations about various community members which all feel downstream from what began with Jack. On a social level, ‘There’s no such thing as cancel culture’ doesn’t hold up when it comes to the devastating impact of ostracism - both on the individual and on those doing the shunning. It has divided friend groups and families. It has created a far more fearful environment for the next generation, stifling creativity and weakening a sense of community.
Are we in a better place since 2018? Judging by current conversations around 50/50 line ups, male DJ’s hosting female-only parties, it all feels very familiar. For a DJ faced with similar accusations in 2026, the management strategy would be straight out of the Trump playbook - ignore, deny, move on. Year after year, the same festivals announce the same line ups. Besides a few symbolic improvements for some, it all feels business as usual.
This is in part down to a collective failure where complex issues have been outsourced to algorithms and reduced to slogans. If we truly care about building a healthier culture, we need to foster space for genuine rehabilitation, empathy, and honest conversation - rather than quick disposability - so we don’t keep losing people before we learn to support them.
It feels in Jack’s case no one wanted to confront these difficult conversations until it was too late. We owe it to the next Jackmaster to do better.
As mentioned Darren’s work is very good on this, his vivid description about experiencing fame for the first time is really insightful and his social commentary usually has a different perspective to offer. I’ve also included these pics from a Rolling Stone feature.
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