Mick Cooper’s homepage begins the old-fashioned way: here are the things I care about, here are some links, and if you care about any of them too, come in.
The subjects immediately start branching. Music. Portsmouth Football Club. Family history. British actors. MIDI files. Local schools. Songwriting. The Titanic. Banjo books. The Portsmouth music scene.
Cooper explains that he came to computers later in life and kept using an Atari 1040ST with Cubase 3.1 because he knew it well. He also mentions an Acorn RISC PC, a Roland G800 keyboard, and eventually a more conventional PC setup.
That detail tells you a lot about the site.
This is not a portfolio built to establish a brand. It is a personal filing cabinet that gradually became public history.
The local music pages are the real rabbit hole
Cooper performed around Portsmouth for decades under his own name and as Mickey Morgan. His music timeline records bands, venues, equipment, dates, and gigs stretching back into the 1960s. One page lists appearances almost date by date, including work with the band Heaven and shows during a period when the local live circuit intersected with much larger acts.
The larger Portsmouth material goes beyond autobiography. Cooper and collaborators gathered memories, photographs, venue histories, band information, newspaper research, and other fragments of the city’s music scene. The result preserves exactly the level of history that tends to evaporate first: not only famous performers, but local halls, resident bands, one-night bookings, old posters, and people who remember what happened there.
That kind of record is difficult to reconstruct after the participants are gone.
It is also a good example of why personal websites matter. A modern profile page might comfortably hold Cooper’s biography. It would be much worse at holding decades of unrelated research, family material, scanned ephemera, MIDI files, local history, and several enthusiastic side quests without demanding that everything be squeezed into one content format.
The old homepage had no such problem. Add another link.
For a researcher, the site is useful because the material remains in context with the person who collected it. For a webmaster, it demonstrates the underrated power of a hand-maintained index page: when the subject expands, the navigation expands with it.
CacheRat’s 1,967 Ancient Web Domains research list keeps turning up sites like this because local knowledge often survives on the web through one person’s refusal to throw anything away.
That is not bad information architecture.
Sometimes it is the archive.