A Tribute
A Tribute to Saxophonist Steve Main
It was around two weeks ago that I was contacted by Paul Thomas, an ex-Head of Music in the county I grew up in: a generous man who passed me various performing opportunities during my school years. Sitting alongside me at many of these rehearsals and events was the talented saxophonist Steve Main. (In his school days many will have known him as Steve Pemberton.)
Paul had sadly brought news that Steve had passed away, 10th February 2021.
Steve Main was around the same age as me, and his grandfather, jazz tenor player Bobby Main, led the local ‘Opus 18 Big Band’ which met to rehearse every week without fail. Thanks to pandemic free, more musically appreciative and affluent times, we had a gig or two most weekends. Steve and I spent a lot of time armed with saxophones, learning to sight-read charts with fluency, transcribe solos and point at scary chord progressions. While remaining loyal to both the band and our rehearsal/gig duties, being the two ‘kid’ sax players in the band, we affectionately referred to the dance band operation as ‘Opeless 18.
Now, I didn’t know it at the time, but this little big band had a profound influence on me. Steve was playing a Dearman horn back then, and even at the age of sixteen was making a remarkable sound. Under the guidance of his hugely supportive grandfather on first tenor, Steve played lead alto fearlessly, and with humility and integrity. Every week in our naivety and eagerness to learn, we’d chat all sorts of things… maybe arrangements of McArthur Park, or about some Pete King solo we’d heard on the radio.
I sat next to Steve playing second tenor between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, so we became contemporaries and somewhat shy, cautious and mildly competitive friends. There was an air of healthy musical reckoning between us back then, but while I had the chops for devouring repertoire, Steve terrified me with his improvisational ability. I remember going to his house to work on solos and transcriptions once, but Steve jumped right over my head with all of it- he was the jazz player as far as I was concerned, and this is probably why at that time I trod the mainly ‘classical’ route to the Royal Northern College of Music, while he won a place on a jazz course at one of the top London music colleges.
Even as a teen, Steve was just a natural musician. He loved the saxophone and jazz was second nature to him. I did try to look him up on social media a couple of times over the years following college to see what he was up to, but he didn’t seem easy to find, if he bothered with social media at all. I found out from one of his family members a number of years ago that he was still very much playing saxophone which was gratifying to know, but I didn’t take the opportunity for making contact further. Why didn’t I just ask for an email address? ? I’m not sure. Maybe I was feeling the same shyness that musical contemporaries have when they are sixteen, seventeen? I don’t know.
I am indebted to Steve’s grandfather Bobby for his generous nature, relentless encouragement and his lifetime of experience that he so selflessly gave away. When Bobby passed away a number of years ago, I found out quite some time after it happened, having lost a certain amount of contact with the area we grew up in and the musicians who were around back then. Imagine my shock when I heard that Steve too, had very sadly passed away in February of this year. I had no idea.
Perhaps the moral of the story is that we should always try to keep in touch with the important people, no matter how tentatively. Steve was an outstanding, inspirational saxophonist, loved by many. I can’t write about Steve’s career, his gigs or his life in London because I wasn’t a part of that…
…but I do remember when we were children.
Lara James
Photo copyright Lara James