New Zealand hip-hop soul artist Ladi6 remembers a revolutionary
"Gil Scott-Heron, who's that?"
I ignorantly remember thinking that, when we were told we were support for his tour around the UK and parts of Europe.
"Google him." I was told.
So I did, and woah! What did I find?
Whitey on the moon... the revolution will not be televised ... cocaine addiction... a prison sentence ... and a picture of a striking and handsome black man in the 70s. Perfecting the look of the Black Panther/mod movement, with a fro and a black skivvy.
So this is the image I had before meeting the great American revolutionary, Gil Scott-Heron.
We walked into London's Royal festival hall, three "'nobody" musicians from New Zealand feeling instinctively like we were in the wrong place.
At showtime we got up and did our thing, still feeling every inch out of place in this expensive, expansive room that was now filled with people. Afterwards, we'd wait backstage hoping we didn't disappoint.
Then we hear the audience applauding over the intercom. We head out to watch a tall lanky, weather-beaten, but still a very handsome man as he walked into the spotlight holding a microphone.
He stood alone on the very big stage, looking small and fragile. But looks can be deceiving.
He spoke with a deep rich American drawl that belonged to a man of wisdom untold, a voice that soothed, healed and educated all in the same breath.
He was slow and meticulous in his words, speaking about his past days that led him to that very same stage.
He transfixes those who are listening and holds their attention for what seemed like an age.
He was magnetic.
He was the moon and the audience was the ocean being pulled in and out by his words and that voice... if he never reached his Rhodes piano I wouldn't have been disappointed.
I watched in a trance like the rest, listening, straining on every word.
This was the man, Gil Scott-Heron.
We had the amazing opportunity to actually talk and hang out in petrol stations, hotel lobbies and soundchecks with this very same man.
He nick-named our son Philli-harmonic.
He spoke about Philli in his opening conversation, called him, "my little man Philli".
He was generous and kind with his time, he delighted in Philli. He loved talking to him and being in his presence.
He was a kind and caring soul, someone who you immediately knew had seen the world for a very long time, and perhaps even other worlds too. He wasn't afraid of himself or others, and he wasn't scared to make you feel at ease.
I wish I could say I knew him better, but what I knew of him was inspiring enough for me to truly believe and understand that no matter what happens in life, you can do and be whatever you like at what ever time, no matter the time.
There are so many more stories that I was told about Gil by his friends in his entourage who ended up feeling like one big family by the end of the tour, but those are their stories to share, not mine.
It is a shame that the world doesn't get to be a part of this man's life anymore, luckily he left us enough behind so we can all visit him whenever we like.
His final album was titled I'm New Here, and the feeling you got after hanging with him was that perhaps, even after all this time, that's exactly how he felt.
