Shelley

The piano player turns 30 today and I thought it would be a good chance to look back over his time with us, now totalling 8 years. None of us can really remember the beginnings too well. Myself and the guitar player started the band at the tail end of 2010, initially as a duo, but that format quickly became boring and it was suggested that perhaps we trial my young cousin, someone I had long earmarked as a future bandmate but someone I was unconvinced was quite ready. He shuffled into the room with a keyboard under his arm, a mop of unbrushed, unwashed hair sprouting up like broccoli. He mumbled a little, something he still does to this day as he set up his piano stand and tripped over the wire. We played through our repertoire of 5 songs and tried to coax the shy boy into singing harmonies, which he only did with his eyes closed. "He's pretty good" said the guitar player, after he'd gone home leaving his piano leads behind. "lets sign him up!"
"I'm not sure he's quite ready" I countered, "he doesn't drive and he lives in the middle of nowhere, and I'm not even sure he owns that keyboard?".
"Sign him up" he said again with a wry smile, "it'll be more fun this way. Keep us on our toes!"

And it certainly has. But it would be wrong of me to start this tribute with a list of misdemeanours and all the trials and tribulations that come with having such a maverick member in the ranks. So instead i'll start with the positives, of which there are many. Blessed with a wonderful ability to create music; he can pluck the most exquisite melody from the air, that's never been a problem, it's his ability to remember it that has! He's a world musician, a true musician. And yes he can't read a single note, give him a page of music and he'd probably use it to wrap his lunch in, but hum him a tune and he'll write you a song. From the ear, from the heart, like the best of the them. When it comes to 'jamming' he's in a league of his own; blessed with a speed of thought and a change of pace, unmatched. Rhythmically he's exceptional, far better than many professional drummers I know. He's got groove and stamina but most of all he's got feeling; whether creating some uplifting solo or just simply laying two chords together in such a way that you well up inside. His playing is at times inspired, evocative and infectious. I've said it before, immortalised forever in the film How NOT to be in a Band; but 'out of all of us he is the true musician'. And a few people have bought me up on this since, as though perhaps it has irked them that I have put him above even myself. But what I mean is this; he is somebody that lives and breathes music, his life is a song and a dance, it is all he has ever wanted to do, and when playing, it brings out the very best in him. 

It's the parts before and after playing where he can sometimes come unstuck, often with hilarious consequences. It's easy to laugh about it now but every time he's turned up to a gig without his piano leads it's like being smacked in the gut. And there's been 7 of them. We should have known it on that very first day in my kitchen when he shuffled off leaving them neatly plugged in next to the toaster. Leads aren't the only thing he forgets. Plastic bags containing clothes, bananas, his passport, a bankcard. He's left coats and jumpers and piano stands, he even left his shoes at one venue, and once famously left my chainsaw on the Edinburgh train, instead arriving at the station with a lady's bag full of makeup and toiletries. He's messy and untidy and was even mistaken for a tramp at one gig. He's clumsy and

disorganised and at times utterly infuriating. But he's charming too and cheeky and charismatic and people love him. He has an innate ability to get a 'little extra' out of everybody; whether it's a free meal or an extra drink, or a second chance. He is the 'odd' to our folk, he has shaped our trajectory, lost us a few key battles but won us many admirers. 

And it's worth mentioning his journey and growth over the years. From that tousled haired young boy that couldn't sing in public and could't play out front. Who'd disappear at the end of every gig to avoid pack-down. Who'd forget structures to songs and even his own lyrics. Who was shy but desperate for the limelight, a fierce contradiction of wanting it but not knowing how to get it, and attempting it in all the wrong ways. I realised how far he'd come when at Merry Folking Christmas last year, in front of 300 people he stepped out onto the stage and played 3 of his own compositions, sang from the heart and bought the house down. And although he still hasn't learnt to drive and is as reliant as ever on the lifts of others; at least he's left home, moved house, changed job, gone traveling, found love. He's been knocked down countless times, mostly from his own doing, but he's always picked himself up, brushed himself down and come again. Like a terrier. He's adapted. Reinvented himself. And yes, he can still go awol and his diction is terrible, he still forgets piano leads and turns up late, but at the end of the day, when all is said and done, I have no regrets about hiring him. He's flamboyant and funny and mischievous, he embodies the spontaneity of this band. He's enthusiastic and eager; the dreamer, the believer. Head in the clouds, feet in the clouds, the melody maker, the mover, the shaker, the inspiration for this blog, he's the one that makes us 'odd', with a different velvet jacket for everyday of the week. With a dancing smile and dancing feet and a pirouette like a ballerina.

So raise your glass, and raise it high. To Shelley!