this is hard news. I will tell you a story
in 2001 a friend said he'd been talking with some label dudes about music and they were interested in the Mountain Goats and it was 4AD
the first 4AD release I ever heard was the Birthday Party's "Junkyard," which changed my life
probably the next one was when Rozz Williams asked me "Do you like the Cocteau Twins?" and I said "nah" (I was posing, I didn't wanna not have a take) and he played me "Garlands." Late one summer night, 1985.
I bought the Aikea-Guinea EP and was converted. There was no music like it. The cover was like a dream of the late 19th century filtered through a whole range of emotions. It coexisted with the music, placed it in context, gave a way of understanding it.
By spring of '86 I am a walking disaster area. Atthe Ooze in Portland I buy the new Cocteaus album, "Victorialand." It is my constant companion during some very hard months that year. The cover feels like a world in which I live my better moments:
a surface of ripples, something orange glowing underneath, submerged, hidden, obscure -- arcs and angles -- gestures of a kindred spirit, maybe
back home in California in '88 and there's a new act called the Pixies, I'm going nuts, everybody's going nuts. Their covers are also Vaughan's work. "Surfer Rosa," a forever-vivid totem of that summer.
as more 4AD records become common touchstone, the Vaughan Oliver aesthetic becomes an indispensable part of the label's identity. You can't mistake it. It holds a disparate roster together, asserts a shared vision. To know about this back thenn is to belong to a secret society.
so years later when 4AD wants to talk to me, I call Peter Hughes, and I say, hey dude, wanna make music together, you'll never believe what label wants to do something
and when I tell him he says "do you think we can ask for Vaughan Oliver?"
We could, and we did. We had dinner at his house the week we debuted as a 4AD act. He told us stories, showed us the original of the Modern English sleeve -- inches thick with layers of tissue lovingly glued -- and we became friends
we worked together over six albums and an EP or two. The matte sleeve UK edition of "We Shall All Be Healed," the original printing, with the printed inner sleeve, remains my favorite: he understood the texture of the stories I was telling
we remained in touch after the Mountain Goats had moved on. He was a great soccer fan -- whenever England had a big match, I'd send him word
I became a father, his children grew up, we would occasionally exchange pictures and share with each other how good it is to still be here
for Peter and I, to have met Vaughan at all was a sort of "if somebody pulls the rug out from under us before this really gets started, at least we can say this happened" moment
to dine at his house, asking for and getting stories about albums that had shaped our worlds? unimaginably rich. Vaughan was a man of great generous spirit, a joyous presence in this world.
He's gone now. He was a big part of an important story in the world of music, for me and for many of us. He brought to his work his love & his vision & his patience, a gift.
this is the last picture he sent me, I hope I do not intrude on his eldest son's privacy by sharing it. 
goodbye, Vaughan, it was an immense honor to have known you. I will see you in the stars.
