I have often wondered what would have happened if I hadn’t turned up, uninvited as I was, to the Billiard Room (Ince’s Hall) back in the Summer of ’97. Fresh back from the UK, armed with a Roland XP-50, I trod down past Cool Blues and walked into a rehearsal. The first person to meet me at the door was a dark-haired, slim, trendy looking chap, definitely older than me. In truth, I had no idea who he was nor what he’d done. He asked me who I was and what I was doing there. I said, “Chris Cortés, here to play keyboards.” I remember he smiled and welcomed me in. I suppose now, looking back, he knew well enough I hadn’t been invited to the rehearsal. In a sense, that was Phillip Valverde through and through, always expecting the unexpected and welcoming anyone baring goodwill.
We spent the Summer of ’97 rehearsing every night in preparation for the National Day concert. (It was my first of four.) Back then, keyboard players were in short supply, so I landed over 40 songs to play. It was a great time, before the Melons were famous, before the music band revival, before the modern-day Gib gig scene. Live music was live music. And it was good.
Over the years, Phillip introduced me to many exciting and wonderful musicians. But perhaps the ones I am most fond of are Francis Pecino, Pepe Pou and Ernesto Revagliatte. I treasure the memory of playing alongside Phillip and Ernesto, Pepe and Francis. They were, after all, the members of my first function band. As the youngest member, I took the brunt of many jokes! However, on stage, I kept up pretty well and was able to hold my own. I have fond memories of countless gigs and hours of fun with the band. Phillip knew how to keep up our spirits. He knew how to keep a crowd going. And boy could he play and sing.
I also had the good fortune to accompany Phillip’s brother, Hubert, in a few gigs. Working with Hubert was always great fun, “Life is beautiful”, as he often said! He would join us whenever he was back from the USA. Arturo Bonich also played with us on many occasions. He would bring his conga set and percussion instrument bag and add some spice to our sound.
Perhaps the fondest memory I have of Phill (I have many) is him intentionally kicking my music stand halfway through a concert through a solo yelling: “play from the heart, not the head. [add expletive here]” I can tell you it did me a world of good. Sometimes, we classically trained musicians keep to the score too much. Thanks to the endless gigs and constant song changes and improvs, I started playing away from the dots and staves. There was an occasion it didn’t work so well! One of the hotel gigs. I’d practised jazz for a few weeks (for another project), and I remember starting up Billy Joel’s “Just the way you are.” Only, I didn’t play Billy Joel’s notes. Instead, I played the chords from “a Night in Tunisia” to the rhythm of “Just the way you are.” Phillip laughed through the song, and the incident became a long-standing joke with the band! And what a band we were. The great times we had. The fun, the laughs, the discussions. So many memories. So many great things I learned from them.
We played countless gigs together in Gibraltar and Spain. Some places that come to mind are The Old Casino, Caleta Hotel, Rock Hotel, The ICC, La Rotunda, La Piazza, Naval Ground, Prince of Wales Cinema (our rehearsal room!), The Marina, San Roque Club, Sotogrande, San Martin, Central Hall, and many more I forget.
After about three and something years, we parted company. I wanted to invest more time into writing and had grown tired of the endless gigs. They carried on the fun and music and kept playing weddings and parties and bars and clubs. It was lovely to coincide when we did at events. I would pop into the shop a lot too. I thought there would always be time to organise the “next” gig with them. I always thought I’d be “back in ten minutes” to use Phill’s phrase. Sadly, time passed by, and it never materialised.
Still, I playback memories in my mind and hear the music fresh as if it had been yesterday: I’m always next to Francis to the left of Philip and behind Ernesto. Pepe is over on the right, still in my eye line. We start with “Volare”, and we are away in the moment… Phillip is always smiling in my imaginary gigs, just as he always was. Oh, and Ernesto still has a moustache, Francis long hair and Pepe sports a longer beard.
It is times like this I am thankful to God. Grateful that one summers day in ’97, I left the beech early and took the courage to turn up as an uninvited guest. I am still humbled that these great musicians took someone half their age (or more!) into their band. And thankful that, before the end, I was able to spend a little more time with Phillip. Unfortunately, extra time is never enough. Nevertheless, he shared something extraordinary at our last meeting, something that will remain with me always. It is with that hope that I look back, remember him, and look forward to seeing him again, please God, someday.
