My partner, Des de Moor, who has died aged 64 of a brain tumour, was the founder of Pirate Jenny’s, a long-running London cabaret club.
He set up the club in 1995, initially at the Vortex jazz club and later at the Drill Hall. Aside from organising everything there – engaging all the artists, doing the publicity and taking the door money – he also acted as emcee.
For many years Pirate Jenny’s was a haven for adventurous performers and audiences, who were supported by Des’s meticulous programming and fierce belief in the power of song as storytelling.
He was also a cabaret musician himself, and his most notable musical achievement was the creation, with Russell Churney, of the stage show Darkness and Disgrace, with an accompanying 2003 album that reinterpreted the songs of David Bowie. Bowie himself heard the live show and in the sleeve notes for the album said that “to hear these songs in such a personalised context is a real ear-opener. I listened as though someone else had written them.”
Aside from Des’s involvement in cabaret, from the early 2000s he became known as one of Britain’s leading beer writers, contributing to Campaign for Real Ale publications and writing The CAMRA Guide to London’s Best Beer, Pubs and Bars, first published in 2011 and followed by new editions in 2015 and 2022. He was also the author of Cask: The Real Story of Britain’s Unique Beer Culture (2023).
He approached beer as a matter of culture and community, rather than mere consumption.
Des was born in Ipswich to a Dutch father, Werner, and an English mother, Phyllis (nee Long). After leaving Richard Hale grammar school in Hertford he moved in 1985 to London, where he immersed himself in its alternative music and cabaret scenes.
For a number of years he worked as a sound engineer at the 100 Club on Oxford Street, and he was also a DJ there on Saturday nights. Though briefly involved in electronic music projects, he found his true voice in his solo work, with literate, emotionally direct songs delivered with theatrical poise and a deep understanding of European chanson and art rock traditions.
Whether on a cabaret stage, behind a DJ console, or at a pub table deep in conversation, he brought intensity, warmth and intelligence to everything he did.
Des’s political commitments also ran deep. During the Aids crisis he was one of the Wombourne 12, jailed for a week in 1986 after being charged with threatening and abusive behaviour during a protest against homophobic comments made by local councillors in Staffordshire. He and several others were later compensated for wrongful arrest and prosecution, as well as for false imprisonment.
At home, our life together was built on shared passions: music in all its forms, leftwing politics argued late into the night, and a love of Doctor Who. He was knowledgable, principled, occasionally stubborn, and always generous.
Des is survived by me, a sister, Adele, and a nephew, Sunil.
