Breaking type here. Not one for eulogies. And if this has nothing to do with the band then that's on me. But I owe it to Scotty to pen some words to him. And anyway, it does have a link, he was the first drummer we ever recruited, and though he never played a gig, he was courted for years, rehearsed a bunch of times but life always got in the way, of both of us.
He was a good soul with a wicked smile, a man of ideas, a man who fed off positivity although he always had a grumbling nature, which made him almost more endearing. A keen surfer, actor, writer but he most excelled at music, he was an amazing percussionist, with impeccable rhythm and a huge knowledge of world music, a big pioneer for bringing Latin and African influences down here to the end of the land.
We're a close bunch down here, and though many of us move away and pursue other things, we stay connected, it's a small place, full of big characters, a little cut adrift from the mainland. It's always been a creative hub. And if our parents grew up with art then perhaps, as the decades shifted, we grew up with music and dancing. And Scotty was at the forefront of that, whether banging drums, congas, pots and pans, or perhaps more fervently as a DJ broadening our minds to yet more new and exciting grooves.
He was someone that was always there when it mattered, you might not see him for months but he always popped up in the right places, at the right times. Lazy tones, softly spoken, worldly, he traveled, chasing the waves, collecting music, coming home with new ideas. Eager to make things happen and when they didn't he could grumble, more than most, and we'll miss that too, that low growl like the warning of a dog. He loved setting the world to rights, having a good old moan. But he loved his home, despite the lack of opportunity, for all the art and culture, we can be a narrow bunch at times, we're dreamers more than doers. And that can be frustrating.
It's strange to think we never played with him, the one that got away, we rehearsed for weeks in prep for a summer of gigs but somehow it didn't happen. Pity that, he'd have added such a flare and flavour. Pity a lot. I'll miss that winning smile, the bullet wink, the crooked nose, the tousled hair, the dulcet tones. I'll miss the next idea, the next big thing. I'll miss the moaning, taking pride in being middle aged, old before his time.
Life is short. Be sweet to each other.
RIP Scotty - see you on the other side my friend
