Paul Gorman remembers Charlie Gillett

Yesterday proved to be some sort of red letter day as far as the grim reaper goes. In a small bit of comfort I take from recognizing symmetry, I realized that both Ron Lundy & Charlie Gillett probably played & enjoyed Alex Chilton records at some point. At the very least when Chilton fronted the Box Tops and had a hit with "The Letter."

My friend Paul Gorman, accomplished writer & blogger, and one knowledgeable dude, left the following comment in response to the passing of Charlie Gillett. I thought it too good to hide away in the comments, and have decided to run it here. Thanks for sharing Paul.

Charlie was a very important figure in music and also an incredible footballer - that's how I first got to know the silver fox (skinny as a rake, swift down the wing) 25 years ago kicking around on Thursday evenings on Clapham Common.

Out walking the dog, my wife and I bumped into him last year; he'd fought like a bastard against his condition in his determination to return to match fitness.
Charlie removed his timeless herringbone coat (which some believe he wore back when managing the Kilburns) and trotted off for a kick around with some Sierra Leone-ians. Charlie was the epitome of (much overused this but entirely appropriate here) cool.

When Johnnie Allan's The Promised Land came out on Oval-Stiff in 1978 I'd buy copies and give them as presents - he inspired that kind of zeal. Honky Tonk was way ahead of the game as was Another Saturday Night - he made landmark moves in record compilation and broadcasting effortlessly. He also used to tell the story about how he visited Lennon in LA during the Lost Weekend phase for a Radio One series he was working on.
The crew pulled up outside this mansion and even Charlie confessed to feeling nervous. Then the door burst open and Lennon cried: "Aha! The famous Charlie Gillett!"

Remember watching Dr John play Clapham Bandstand in the early 80s just knowing that this wouldn't have happened without him and his gasp of glee and surprise when Denise Roudette took the stage during the Brixton Academy Ian Dury tribute gig.

He told me that my book In Their Own Write was OK but I should have written it as a narrative rather than oral history. "I wanted to hear what you thought," he said. I was momentarily incensed and then realised: Dammit! He's right!

One final thing: I DJed for an aftershow last May and he came over and told me how much he loved my set. Then he mailed me the next day and repeated the accolade. No higher praise can I ever expect. And when I played Delroy Wilson's I'm In A Dancing Mood he leapt up and raved about how it was one of the first songs he got into when he moved to London in the mid-60s. That was Charlie; he never lost his passion and love for music and that informed and enriched the lives of, I'd say, millions...Sayonara Charlie.