In The Beginning
I was born in Hammersmith, which is in West London, that is, in England, and I was swiftly moved abroad and raised in Barbados, which is (for any geography-phobes) in the Caribbean. Apart from singing in school plays and church choirs, I never did any solo singing or prestigious performances. My musical education wasn't substantial enough to make an impression on me. Well, I went on to study Law at university, so you can get the picture!
I moved back to London shortly before my 13th birthday and the following year I received a present that would change my future. My very own stereo! It was a fairly cheap, black hi-fi, but it had a cassette tape player and a record button! I would get home after school and turn the dial on the radio to listen to different stations. And so, at the ripe old age of 14, I was introduced to jazz. I would tune into Jazz FM and lie down and listen to Bill Evans, Ella Fitzgerald, Jason Rebello and Herbie Hancock. And I fell in love with Sarah Vaughan and the sounds that floated out of those very small speakers into my very small room.
My affair with jazz remained secretly confined to after school broadcasts in the late hours with Helen Mayhew and others. That was until I went to college at 16 and met Femi Temowo, Michael Olatuja, Jonathan Idiagbonya and Jo Caleb. These guys would hang out in the music department and jam for hours! And, as was my custom, I would lie down and listen to them play Naima, Giant Steps, Stella By Starlight and many other great songs.
Alas, I would only listen! I later duly went to university and fortuitously stumbled upon the music store Fopp. I happily used part of my student loan to increase my embarrassing record collection, which up until that point consisted mostly of homemade cassette compilations courtesy of my black stereo and Helen Mayhew's broadcasts. Lady in Satin (Billie Holiday), Sketches of Spain (Miles Davis), Timeless (John Abercrombie), Everybody Digs Bill Evans - these were historic albums that lit a flame in my soul and still continue to burn there. Here was my music education.
Lost and Found
My legal education came to an abrupt halt when I was diagnosed with breast cancer in my second year. Moving back to London to receive treatment and be with my family was a comfort. I took two years out of my studies and was told by Sheffield University that I would have start my Law degree from scratch. SCRATCH! Scratch that! I knew I didn't want to be a lawyer, but I didn't know what I wanted to do!
My illness made me realise that life is too short to spend unhappily. It also made me think about God and all the philosophical questions that so many of us suppress until we brush shoulders with death or encounter intense pain or loss. Morbid, right? Could God exist? Could I find him?
With my career path thrown wide open, I thought I'd temp for a bit to see if that lightbulb would go off over my head. My best friend Jo and I became Christians in 2002 and got married a year later. While I was still waiting for that lightbulb, I decided to do a degree in Theology and BANG! Well, actually, it was more of a pokey nudge...
The Pokey Nudge
In August of 2005, Jo and I went down to the 606 Club in Chelsea because Jo and a few of our friends wanted to sit in on the top jam session run by Tim Whitehead. The clipboard was passed round so that all the musicians could register their jamming interest. That night the standard of musicians was high. And with so many great jazz musicians turning up there just to hang out and listen to music, the atmosphere was buzzing. One by one I listened to my friends play over the Jazz Standards I met when I was 14. That's when it happened.
Tim called up the next musician. I was really very curious as I had only met one other person who shared my name. Poke, poke, nudge, nudge - as Jo alerted me to Tim's invitation. I gaped as I could feel the blood running out of my body. Nudge, nudge...PUSH! - as Jo propped me onto my feet. I stood there, deathly cold in front of Tim who handed me the microphone. My knees turned to jelly and I thought I would black out! Should I turn around and run out? 'How could he do it?' I asked myself as the whole room stared at me in silence. I called a Standard that the band knew and they gave me an introduction. So I just listened. In my mind, I was 14 and lying on my bed - it was just me and the music. Then I started to sing.
My affair with jazz was now public. That old flame lit up my whole being and I sang. When the song ended, Tim asked me to do another and we continued to play. It was electric! This is it! There was that lightbulb!
To be continued...