“Acker” Bilk MBE 28 January 1929 – 2 November 2014
Many homes of my parents generation had a copy of the “Stranger On The Shore” EP in their record collection. Like many in my generation our first forays into music was scouring our parent’s stash of records. For me it was an eclectic bag… everything from from Viennese waltzes to light jazz to skiffle to 60’s Malay pop to the “easy listening” sounds of Mantovanni.
In the process of growing up and developing my own somewhat harder and more contemporary edge to musical taste, what I sat in wonder listening to at a much younger age faded away. Though some stayed. “Stranger On The Shore” was one of those.
Though I would never cop to it to my friends in my teen years… I actually saw Mr. Bilk in concert… and met him briefly after.
Mum had bought tickets to a “tea-time” concert that was held at the Hilton ballroom. Even though I was 14 then and listening to the likes of Deep Purple and Led Zepplin at the time, I still enjoyed the frenetic joy of Dixieland.
I remember sitting, watching and listening that afternoon… amazed at the lyrical ease his band played. How he commanded the stage with an easy charm. How the songs came one after the other with short witty introductions… always seeming spontaneous but never detracting from the reason we were there – the music. It was the first time I began to understand the concept of a show as a well honed package. The tones of his playing… full, warm and playful.
I also remember my Aunty Theo and her husband Jack were there at the next table. She was thrilled to be there but disappointed that dancing was not encouraged. And she said so on several occasions between songs. It is a known fact that members of the Nunis clan will get up and dance at the drop of a hat.
And when the show was done he came out to the audience for a brief meet and greet. He looked at me as he shook my hand.
“You’re a young un to be here. Did you enjoy the show?”
“Yes… very much. I’ve loved your music since I was born.”
He smiled and went on to shake the next hand… my Aunty Theo’s… who went on to tell him she wanted to dance but couldn’t. I cannot tell you what flashed through his mind when he smiled… but I’d like to think he was pleased that the then generational gap could be bridged by music.