The death this week of musician and comedian Chris Sievey sees the passing also of his beloved alter-ego Frank Sidebottom. LEAGUES O'TOOLEremembers the madcap entertainer and one of his trips to Dublin

LATER THIS year, two of Manchester’s greatest cult stars, punk-poet John Cooper Clarke and semi-fictional pop entertainer Frank Sidebottom were due to perform in Dublin. That was before the passing of Sidebottom creator Chris Sievey this week.

Frank Sidebottom holds a special place in the heart of music fans and anyone with a penchant for the surreal. Talented musician and comedian Sievey created Sidebottom as a one-off gimmick in 1984. People became so fond of this strange aspiring pop star with the huge papier-mâché head (it was later remade with fiberglass) that he became a regular fixture on the indie circuit.

He performed hilarious Casio-cabaret versions of Manchester standards (The Smiths, Joy Division, The Fall) and pop hits of the day (Kylie Minogue, Madonna, etc) adjusted with references to football and his hometown of Timperley, all sung with a nasally Mancunian twang as if he was pinching his nose.

Through the years, Sidebottom’s band has included writer Jon Ronson and BBC DJ Mark Radcliffe. Chris Evans was also his driver for a time. Caroline Ahern’s Mrs Merton first appeared as Sidebottom’s radio sidekick and it is said he was the inspiration for Graham Fellows’s John Shuttleworth character.

Despite all the famous careers generated around him, Sidebottom remained a cult figure whose career hit occasional highs – he once opened for Bros at Wembley in front of 54,000 people. When interest dwindled, Sievey became an animator on children's show Pingu.

Sidebottom was enjoying a resurgence in popularity when news of his cancer broke last month. Whatever struggle Sievey was enduring, Frank Sidebottom carried on optimistically, cheerfully updating fans on Twitter, apologising for cancelled dates and even illustrating a portrait of himself after chemotherapy (basically the perrennial Sidebottom face, but with no hair). It was auctioned on eBay for a cancer research charity. He also recorded a 2010 World Cup anthem, Three Shirts On My Line!

Chris Sievey died on Monday, aged 54, after collapsing at his home in Hale, Greater Manchester, where he was recovering from surgery for a tumour on his chest.

My most enduring memory of Sidebottom, and Sievey himself, dates back to 1993 when he played in Barnstormers on Capel Street, in Dublin, a biker bar popular for punk-rock gigs. I didn't know much about him but I had seen his hilarious cameos on Tony Wilson's Remote ControlTV show and I'd heard a story that he had been banned from playing for his football club Timperley Big Shorts because he wore his head on the pitch. He was also an ardent Subutteo enthusiast, as was I at the time.

The show was predictably hilarious, with Sidebottom performing accompanied by Little Frank – a sort minature ventriloquist dummy version of himself. He was staying in my friend – and the promoter – Timo’s house, where I often stayed myself. I couldn’t miss this opportunity to find out about the real person under the head.

After the show, we brought Sievey to Fibber Magees bar where he soon gave us the slip. Looking back, maybe he wanted to avoid any Sidebottom/Sievey confusion. At the end of the night he reappeared, a whiskey glass in each hand, and a facial expression that suggested he was ready to be taken home.

On the walk back, he collapsed in a heap on the street and rolled up his trouser leg, mumbling about a war wound as he adjusted a bandage. I have no idea if he had a genuine military career, though I did notice he carried his head, Little Frank dummy and Casio keyboard in an army style duffle bag.

"You go on without me lads," he insisted but of course we couldn't leave him stranded. The next day I awoke in Timo's house to the sound of I Should Be So Luckysung in that familiar Manc whine. I went downstairs to find Sidebottom – not Sievey – on the couch, Little Frank at his side, Casio on his lap, wearing a Santa Claus robe, performing to a bunch of young fans who had camped out in Timo's garden.

It’s hard to believe Frank Sidebottom is gone. It’s hard to believe he ever existed in the first place.