Born and raised in somber and gloomy northern England, I began bashing away at my grandparent’s upright piano real young resulting in a subsequent enrollment in lessons. Countless hours were occupied slaving over sheet music and memorizing cheesy standards from 30’s crooner jazz up to 70’s prog rock. To this day, despite forgetting every tune I ever learned, my fingers instinctively shift into position wanting to play invisible keys whenever I hear one of those old songs, usually a nasty muzak rendition reserved for lobby or elevator.

At age 11, I traded keyboard for way cooler fretboard bringing the piano training to a close. Signed up for guitar lessons, the first of which involved watching a hippie shred for 30 minutes before sending me on my way with a tab book. Figuring I’d learn more from a tab book than a hippie, I never returned for the next lesson. The rudiments were duly hammered out jamming with friends, crappy high school bands and furiously studying tabs, learning stuff note by note.

Leaving the UK for the US in the winter of 93’, I landed in LA. Distracted by the enormity of change, music fell aside for a few years while I stumbled around wide eyed, jaw agape. The awareness of omission led me back to the guitar and eventually I resumed playing, initially with a few folks here and there and then started singing and playing guitar for The Dead Idols, a boozy, trashy, rock and roll train wreck. We got to make some records, do a bunch of touring, played with great bands, fell down A LOT and had a whole bunch of fun for a number of years but with the summer of 06’ came the stale whiff of stagnancy; it was very apparent the band had run its creative course and so we solemnly pulled the plug and soon after that Nate, who I’d known for a period prior, asked me if I’d play bass for Yes Dear. And so here we are today.