
It is with deep sadness that the Scottish jazz community has bade farewell to one of the scene’s leading lights, piano colossus Brian Kellock. In the words of trumpeter Colin Steele, used here with his kind permission:
“Along with the rest of the Scottish jazz scene, I was heartbroken to hear of Brian Kellock’s passing.
I was lucky to have played with Brian throughout my entire career – Brian was in the first band I played with, the John Rae Collective, and over the past few years we performed many duo shows in the Edinburgh Fringe – playing the music of Glenn Miller, Duke and Louis, Mary Poppins, Oliver, Some Like it Hot, My Fair Lady. It was always such an honour to be on the stage with Brian, you had to be at the top of your game to be able to keep up with him, the only thing that was sure was that each tune was going to be different from how you’d played it before, Brian was always searching, never happy to take the easy route. But more than anything, it had to be fun. He would have you laughing your head off 1 minute, then the next play something heartachingly beautiful, bringing you to tears. He was the archetypal ‘old school’ jazz musician – he loved playing the great American songbook, he didn’t want to play more modern stuff, even though he ripped the sh*t out of everything he was given! To play with him, you needed to have a good selection of standards ready, as he would often turn down your 1st and 2nd choice of tune, leaving you a nervous wreck if you didn’t have more at the ready!
Brian picked up the mantle from the great Edinburgh pianist Alex Shaw, and he ran with it, inspiring a load of phenomenally talented Scottish jazz pianists – I really believe Brian set the bar high, and in his wake came Steve Hamilton, Dave Milligan, Paul Harrison, Pete Johnstone, Alan Benzie, Euan Stevenson, Fraser Urquhart and Tom Gibbs right through to Fergus McCreadie to name just a few – a staggering amount of world class piano players for a country the size of Scotland.
Brian really found his his true home when he was playing with American jazz masters like Scott Hamilton, Harry Allen or Warren Vache – he was absolutely their equal and should have joined them across the water, but Brian was a quiet, gentle man, a life of hustling and international travel was never going to be for him.
Brian was an intellectual, I often wondered if he drank to bring himself down a bit closer to us mere mortals. He was a private person too, he didn’t like to give much away. On the couple of times I met his bar friends, people he’d drank with for years, they were surprised to hear Brian played the piano! And he was so funny, he always had a sharp one liner, whatever the situation. He was a beautiful man.
He will be sorely missed by so many of us, but at the same time I am just so thankful for having known him, for having him as a friend, and for having heard him play so much beautiful, inspired music.
What gifts you gave us Gadge, thank you.
xxx”