For me, the last 24 hours has been dominated by a single twitter hashtag, a curiously contemporary phenomenon that didn't exist during the life of the man it is referring to. 25th October marks the 7th anniversary of the death of British broadcasting legend John Peel and fans have celebrated his legacy by posting clips from Peel sessions and programmes on facebook and twitter, sharing his witty and memorable quotes, and creating podcasts and blogposts showing his influence.
The Keeping It Peel blog has been keeping track of most of these all day, and although I'm sure his self-deprecating sense of humour would have allowed him a smirk at the #keepingitpeel hashtag, I wonder what he would have thought about this rise in social media.
This kind of media barely existed when the great man passed away. Youtube launched in February 2005, and Twitter and Facebook didn't properly open to everyone until 2006. Of course there were blogs and online communities with bulletin boards for sharing and debating new music, but nothing like there is today.
We discover music differently now, and for me, the act of seeking out new music on the radio stopped abruptly when John Peel died. I posted a blog two days after he died and wondered how they could ever replace him, the answer is that no-one could and effectively no-one has.
In the first few years after his death, John Peel day was commemorated by local tribute gigs and radio broadcasts, but by 2011 it appears people are keener to create Peel-influenced mixes for sites like Mixcloud or to share playlists via services like Spotify.
Peel once said he might meet his end driving along the A14 on his long commute from Suffolk to London, distracted whilst trying to read a demo tape inlay by holding it up to catch the light from the car behind. Nowadays we just have to click a link in an email to hear a new bands demo.
This is how we listen now, and I like the fact that while this is how we discover new music, it's also how we are celebrating his legacy. In another time we could have been listening to his shows every evening and chatting about them using a hashtag.
For now, we can revisit the times he unapologetically played Wham, as well as reminiscing about the many occurrences of records at the wrong speed and of those that he cued too early. "Fades in slowly," was one of my favourite phrases of his.
Seven years gone and still very fondly remembered by thousands. Not a bad legacy for the self-styled "most boring man in the world".