Bren's friend and performing cohort Matt Recardo organised the tour and is pleased he could pay tribute to his late friend in a way that was fitting for a man like Brendan Higgins.  

He wishes to say a big thank you for all who came to witness the entertainment and all those who performed. It was a send off we all think he would have greatly appreciated.   He closes with a poem he wrote about Bren, called "The Punk Poet Of Birmingham."

The Punk Poet of Birmingham is gone, and life won’t be the same. An emptiness felt in the second city when nature snuffed out his flame.   No more curry on our ironing boards, no more Greek kebabs dropping, no more Bang! Bang! Bang... No more Shopping! Shopping! Shopping!   I can’t imagine a Digbeth pub without him propping up the bar.

Or an open mic night without him yelling out his repertoire!   He turned offensive language into an art form, vulgarity was just his way, of expressing his views of the world he sees every day!  I was never a fan of poetry, until I met The Punk Poet of Brum, “A poet for people who don’t like poetry” a worthy nickname given by some.  

He inspired me to write my own poetry, and listen to poetry too... Benjamin Zephaniah, Tom Leonard, Pam Ayres to name but a few.   He is inspired musicians to put melody to his musings, and rhythm to his rhyme... From Jazz and Blues to Punk Rock, from the ridiculous to the sublime.  

His poems, whilst sometimes funny, could highlight some ugly facts... And the world we live in, human nature, people and their heinous acts!   He could go from miserable people to world cup people to war and children dying. His style, whether you loved it or not, you have to admit there is no denying...   He was a one and only, stood out from the crowd without even trying! There will never be another like him, and that is why we’re crying...   The Punk Poet of Birmingham is gone and life won’t be the same.

But why should that mean, that WE can’t carry on the flame?   Why can’t there be curry on our ironing boards, why can’t kebabs keep on dropping? Why can’t there be any more Bang! Bang! Bang... Or Shopping! Shopping! Shopping!?   No one lives forever, but the moments they create do. Etched forever in time as long as they’re remembered by me and you.  

So let’s all make some noise right now, and raise our fists up high... HERE’S FOR THE PUNK POET OF BIRMINGHAM... Let’s keep the flame alive!"