Malcolm Dome R.I.P.

This page is in memory of Malcolm Dome 1955 -2021 – journalist, broadcaster and friend to all who made his acquaintance. In it some of those who knew him have set down their memories.

Dante Bonutto

In a world before the internet, without press releases or crystal ball, Malcolm worked (literally) around the clock to tell the story of the music we love…
You know those celebrated Kerrang! Newz pages from the 1980s? Well, that was all Malcolm. And if you go back and read them, as I sometimes do when the full moon takes me, it’s amazing just how accurate and prescient they are. A true archive.

I once had an unsuspecting guest visit me at Kerrang! HQ in Mornington Crescent. I left the office for a couple of minutes, and when I came back my friend was crouched under a desk, hiding from hurled drum-sticks and low-flying banter. And the music was loud, cranked to hell.

’Twas in the midst of this maelstrom that Malcolm, phone receiver cradled on shoulder, fingers tapping furiously on typewriter keys, lovingly produced not just the aforementioned Newz pages, but many of the finest features to appear in Kerrang! and, later, as times and locations changed, for a whole variety of other decibel-friendly outlets.

When I first met Malcolm, I suppose around 40 years ago, we were both working for Record Mirror, but he was putting words into print before that. Whether writing books, magazine articles or sleeve-notes, Malcolm brought his own special skills fully into play – a heady combination of deep passion and Rolodex knowledge, plus a way of seeing things that was very much his own; and when that way of seeing things just couldn’t be contained by convention, he became The Pear Drop Man.

I mean, Malcolm, was smart, right – letters-after-your-name smart, the one man answer to anyone ill-informed enough to believe that metalheads are lacking in mental dexterity. He knew everything about music, which meant that myself and my colleagues effectively had access to Google before, well, Google.

“Malcolm will know,” was the mantra, and know he did.

And he married this intellect to a work ethic and a drive that simply no-one could match. I’m not sure I ever saw Malcolm sleep, but I constantly saw him delivering news stories and features – generally put together without using a tape machine – at the sort of speed that, for a mere mortal like myself, was staggering to behold.

As fellow journos, I spent a lot of time with Malcolm during the ’80s; we sensed we were doing something meaningful for rock and metal fans around the world, fans just like ourselves. I’d say we felt we were doing god’s work, but of course that would be quite wrong… ha!.

We passed many hours in The Ship, the (old) Marquee, and the St Moritz, that legendary triangle of carousing, and on the other side of the coin, we spent equal amounts of time in a small non-descript room in Orpington Rock City, Kent, for it was here that the Kerrang! typesetter could be found.

I really enjoyed our fortnightly trips down to Orpington, because this was our last chance to scan the text for typos, to hone and craft the pages and to make sure that everything was as up-to-the-minute as it could be…

Had Dave Dickson actually mentioned the artist in his feature? Had Mick Wall delivered his copy from a pool-side in Rio? Had Xavier Russell used the phrases ‘Suvern Rock’ and ‘chicken-skratch geetars’? Had at least one background tone from designer Steve ‘Krusher’ Joule made us feel like we’d been surreptitiously medicine’d? Check, check, check, check. Oh, and had the regular ad from Shades Records invented yet another sub-sub-genre of the music (‘Extreme Death Metal Pomp-hem’ or the like). Check.

Only once all of these boxes had been ticked could we enjoy a fish ‘n’ chip supper on the train home, relaxing in the knowledge that another kopy of Kerrang! had been, if not politely put to bed, then smothered into submission with a pillow.

Simply, Malcolm was at the beating metal heart of everything, and when I moved on to the poisoned chalice that was German Metal Hammer, no relation to the great publication of today, and later RAW magazine, I could never have made these shifts without Malcolm being top man on the team, playing the role of both sweeper and striker and dishing out the (vodka and) oranges at half-time.

Without the industry and generosity of Malcolm, I would not have had the career I enjoyed in publishing. When a whole group of us, including Dave Ling and Mark Putterford, escaped from Metal Hammer to the welcome neutral territory of the Columbia Hotel bar, leaving a solitary Kinder Egg toy in our place (true!), it was calming to know that Malcolm was standing with us – the engine around which we could build a whole new vehicle and do our best to keep it on the road.

I don’t believe I ever told Malcolm just how much I owed him and how much I respected him. He would have hated this, of course, as he wasn’t one for fuss or faff, but it should have been said, so I’m happy to put the record straight here.

He was a hero, but happily not an unsung one, and I’ve been delighted and moved to see the many, many tributes paid to him from our industry, artists and fellow scribes alike.

I spent most of the 1980s working on Kerrang!, where I was lucky enough to share both office and pub space with a host of talented individuals, characters all – the likes of ‘Krusher’, Mick Wall, Ross Halfin, Dave Dickson, Paul Suter, Alan Lewis, Geoff Barton, Ray Palmer, Janice Issitt and many more, and Malcolm was the glue that bound all of it together, starting work with the lark and never downing tools until… well, just never downing tools.

He was intelligent, social, a legend, much loved and already much missed. There is no substitute, so I’m honoured – five KKKKK honoured – to have known and worked alongside the real thing.

Dante Bonnutto

Diamond Dave Thompson

I have always loved people with passion, whether it be Brian Blessed on the stage, Maradonna playing football, when someone who has a passion for what they do, I think that about Malcolm Dome had that passion and he had for music. I like so many, first came across Malc through the pages of Kerrang magazine and always loved reading his words on music, I then met him when I began to work for bands as a roadie and we were friends by the time we became colleagues first at the Rock Radio Network and then of course TotalRock.

Obviously it was his encyclopaedic knowledge of heavy music  that amazed me first but it was his kindness and ability to make people feel great that I really admired. Two examples of this were firstly back in 2012 when I suffered a heart attack and stroke. By coincidence , the band Therapy? with whom I had worked for had told Malc of my illness, Malcolm immediately phoned my mobile phone… I could not really speak at the time and very little memory of names etc but my Mum ended up answering the phone and had a good old chinwag with her for a good 10 minutes which I never forgot and showed the caring guy he was.

Secondly was the way Malc would give people nicknames or have little taglines for them… Mine was “Oh Diamond Dave..Was it? Would it? Will it?” I have absolutely no idea what it meant, where it started or anything. But I liked it… Malcolm, you will be missed Sir!

Diamond Dave