HisStory

Why I Never Arrive on Time – I Arrive Early

There is one thing I never want a Steelasophical client to hear:

“Sorry, I’m running late.”

After years of performing at weddings, corporate events, private parties and special occasions across the UK, I have developed a very simple philosophy:

If you aim to arrive on time, you are effectively scheduling yourself to arrive late.

That might sound strange at first. Surely arriving on time is exactly what a professional supplier should do?

Not in my world.

When somebody books Steelasophical Steel Band & DJ, they are trusting me with part of an event that may have taken months—or even years—to organise. For a wedding, it could be one of the most important days of their lives. I don’t believe that “just on time” provides enough margin for everything that can happen between leaving home and arriving at a venue.

That is why I don’t aim to be on time.

I aim to be ridiculously early.

My Two-Hour Rule

For most Steelasophical bookings, I plan my journey around arriving approximately two hours before the agreed performance start time, where practical.

Interestingly, I will normally tell the client that I aim to arrive around an hour beforehand.

Why?

Because the additional time is my safety margin.

I don’t want a client watching the clock wondering where their steel drummer or DJ is. Equally, there is little benefit in telling them I intend to arrive extraordinarily early because they may then start worrying if I haven’t appeared at that earlier time.

The extra hour is therefore deliberately built into my planning.

It’s my buffer.

And that buffer can make an enormous difference.

Anything Can Happen on the Journey

Professional entertainment frequently involves travelling significant distances across the UK.

Motorways close.

Accidents happen.

Roadworks appear.

Diversions send you miles out of your way.

Traffic can suddenly grind to a halt.

There can be problems with parking, venue access or security. Occasionally, even a perfectly planned journey can be disrupted by something nobody could reasonably have predicted.

I cannot control any of those things.

What I can control is when I leave.

If my performance begins at 2pm and I calculate my journey based on arriving at 1:55pm, virtually any delay becomes an emergency.

A 20-minute traffic jam means I’m late.

A diversion means I’m late.

Difficulty finding the loading entrance means I’m late.

Parking problems mean I’m late.

That isn’t how I want to operate.

Instead, I build considerable tolerance into the journey.

If everything goes perfectly, fantastic—I arrive extremely early.

If something goes wrong, I have time to deal with it.

Early Arrival Is Part of Professional Event Entertainment

Being a professional entertainer isn’t simply about what happens once the first note is played.

The service begins much earlier.

When you book a professional steel band, steel drummer or wedding DJ, you are also paying for preparation, reliability, communication, equipment, experience and contingency planning.

You shouldn’t need to be telephoning your entertainer 30 minutes before your wedding ceremony asking:

“Where are you?”

You have far more important things to think about.

My objective is to remove that worry completely.

Ideally, while you’re preparing for your wedding, greeting guests or coordinating your event, Steelasophical is already at the venue—or extremely close to it.

What Happens If Something Serious Goes Wrong?

There is another important reason for my two-hour approach.

Contingency.

Most delays are relatively minor. Traffic clears. Diversions end. Parking spaces become available.

But what happens if something genuinely serious occurs?

A vehicle problem, for example, could potentially make continuing the journey impossible.

If I have planned to arrive only a few minutes before the performance, there is almost no time available to solve the problem.

However, if I have deliberately created a substantial time buffer, I have options.

I can assess the situation, contact the venue or client if necessary and start looking at alternatives.

That might involve arranging alternative transport, adjusting logistics or, in an extreme situation where I genuinely cannot attend, trying to locate a suitable replacement.

There are never guarantees when dealing with genuine emergencies, but time creates options.

That’s why I give myself as much of it as reasonably possible.

Arriving Early Helps Me Understand the Venue

Arriving early has another major advantage.

It gives me time to look around.

Every wedding venue, hotel, private house and corporate event space is different.

The entrance shown on a map may not be the supplier entrance. The performance area may have changed. Parking might be further away than expected. Power requirements might need checking. Guests may already be arriving.

By getting there early, these things become straightforward logistical matters rather than last-minute problems.

I can introduce myself to the venue team, establish exactly where I need to be and prepare without unnecessary pressure.

Then I can concentrate on what I’ve actually been booked to do:

create an amazing atmosphere.

Exceeding Expectations Is Part of Steelasophical

Arriving mega early isn’t an inconvenience to me.

I regard it as one of my “Exceeding Expectations” activities.

Steelasophical has never been about doing the absolute minimum necessary to complete a booking.

My aim is to provide considerably more than somebody might reasonably expect.

Sometimes exceeding expectations is highly visible—the music, interaction, presentation and atmosphere.

Other times, the most important things happen completely behind the scenes.

Leaving home ridiculously early isn’t glamorous.

Sitting near a venue because I’ve arrived far earlier than necessary isn’t something guests will ever see.

But that’s exactly the point.

Good preparation often means the client never knows how much preparation took place.

Everything simply works.

Peace of Mind Has Real Value

When people compare entertainment suppliers, it’s very easy to compare prices.

Supplier A costs £X.

Supplier B costs £Y.

But price alone doesn’t tell you what you’re actually buying.

Reliability has value.

Experience has value.

Professional equipment has value.

Contingency planning has value.

Communication has value.

And peace of mind has enormous value.

When you book Steelasophical, I want you to feel confident that I have thought about the things that could potentially go wrong long before you need to think about them.

That is particularly important for weddings.

You shouldn’t spend the morning of your wedding tracking your entertainment supplier’s journey.

That’s my responsibility—not yours.

Why Reliability Matters When Hiring Wedding Entertainment

Whether Steelasophical is providing a solo steel drummer, steel band, ambient background music, DJ entertainment or a combination of services, timing matters.

Imagine booking a steel drummer to welcome guests to your wedding ceremony.

The guests arrive at 1pm.

The ceremony begins at 2pm.

If the musician arrives at 1:50pm, technically they may still be “on time” for the ceremony.

But they’ve missed the opportunity to welcome your guests and create the atmosphere you booked them to provide.

For me, punctuality isn’t simply about avoiding being late.

It’s about being sufficiently early to be ready.

Equipment prepared.

Instrument positioned.

Sound checked where appropriate.

Venue team introduced.

Music ready.

And me relaxed, focused and prepared to perform.

There’s a huge difference between arriving before the start time and being ready before the start time.

Professionalism Starts Before I Arrive

My approach to timing is really an extension of how I believe professional entertainment should work.

Prepare early.

Leave early.

Arrive early.

Set up early.

Be ready early.

Then, when the client and their guests need you, everything appears effortless.

So when somebody asks:

“Gary, why do you arrive so early?”

The answer is simple.

Because I don’t believe in aiming to arrive on time.

If you aim to arrive on time, one unexpected problem can make you late. If you aim to arrive two hours early, that same problem may simply make you slightly less early.

For me, that’s not wasted time.

It’s insurance.

It’s preparation.

It’s professionalism.

And most importantly, it’s another way Steelasophical Steel Band & DJ helps remove unnecessary stress from your wedding, corporate event or special celebration.

Because when you’re organising an important event, the entertainer shouldn’t be somebody you’re worrying about.

We should already be there.

The Night Every Single Guest Walked Out on Me!

Every. Single. Guest. Walked. Out.

Not one person stayed.

Twenty-plus years performing as a professional musician and entertainer, and this remains the only occasion I can remember where every guest left the venue before I did.

Was the music really that bad?

Had I cleared the dance floor?

Had somebody finally decided that one steel pan solo was one too many?

Thankfully, no.

In fact, it was quite the opposite.

This happened more than 20 years ago, but it’s one of those wonderfully strange gigs that has stuck in my memory ever since.

I had been booked to provide music for a young lady’s birthday celebration. It was a relatively small gathering of family and friends, with a drinks reception taking place in the back garden of a private residence at Hampton Court Palace, close to the River Thames.

Yes…

Hampton Court Palace.

Not a bad address for a birthday party!

The plan was simple. Everyone would enjoy drinks and music in the garden for approximately an hour before heading off together to a nearby restaurant for the birthday meal.

My job was to provide the soundtrack to the drinks reception.

Nice and straightforward.

Or so I thought.

And Then They Started Leaving…

Everything was going brilliantly.

Drinks were flowing, people were chatting, the atmosphere was relaxed and the music was doing exactly what it was supposed to do.

Then came the moment for everyone to leave for the restaurant.

I could have simply finished playing, packed up and waved goodbye.

But where’s the fun in that?

Instead, I started playing the final song.

And that’s when something rather wonderful happened.

The guests began dancing their way out of the garden.

Not just one or two people.

Everybody.

People were laughing, dancing and gradually disappearing through the exit as I continued playing.

It was almost like a musical evacuation.

One minute I had an audience.

Then half an audience.

Then a handful of people.

Then…

Nobody.

I looked around.

They’d all gone!

Hello? Anyone?

There I was.

Gary Trotman.

Professional steel pan musician.

Standing in a garden at Hampton Court Palace.

Completely alone.

I’d successfully played so well that I’d managed to empty the entire venue!

Of course, they hadn’t actually abandoned me. They were doing exactly what had been planned all along—heading to the restaurant.

But from where I was standing, it was a very strange sight.

Normally, when you’re an entertainer, you’re the one who leaves first.

You finish the performance, pack away your equipment, say your goodbyes and head home while everyone else carries on celebrating.

Not this time.

They had all gone off to eat.

And I was left behind to pack away.

On my own.

In somebody else’s garden.

At Hampton Court Palace.

It was wonderfully surreal.

The Gig Where Everybody Walked Out Happy

More than 20 years later, I still remember that afternoon.

And that’s one of the wonderful things about performing at weddings, birthdays and special events.

It’s not always the biggest event, the largest audience or the grandest performance that creates the strongest memory.

Sometimes it’s something completely unexpected.

On this occasion, it was watching an entire birthday party dance their way out of a garden while I played their finale.

They weren’t walking out because the entertainment had gone horribly wrong.

They were walking out smiling, laughing and dancing because the entertainment had gone exactly right.

I’ve performed at hundreds of events since then, but I still don’t think I’ve managed to repeat it.

So, technically…

Steelasophical can proudly claim to have provided entertainment so good that 100% of the audience walked out.

And I’ve got absolutely no complaints about that review!

No Legs to Stand On!

Sometimes in life, you literally have no legs to stand on.

And back in 1998, neither did my steel pans.

This particular adventure happened while I was working on my first album at Bread Dead TMR Music Recording Studio in London.

I’d arrived at the studio in the morning and spent most of the day recording. It had been a long but productive session and, as it happened, I also had a performance booked at a pub in London that evening.

No problem.

Finish recording. Pack the car. Drive to the gig. Set up. Perform.

What could possibly go wrong?

Quite a lot, apparently.

Something Seems to Be Missing…

At the end of the recording session, Marc helped me load everything into the car and off I went to my evening booking.

I arrived at the pub, started unloading and then had one of those horrible moments when your brain suddenly tells you:

“Gary… something isn’t quite right here.”

Steel pans?

Yep.

Pan sticks?

Yep.

Equipment?

Yep.

Stands?

…

STANDS?!

My steel pan stands were still sitting comfortably back at the recording studio!

Excellent.

I had successfully transported my instruments across London but had absolutely nothing to put them on.

In other words, my steel pans genuinely had no legs to stand on.

Time for Plan B

There wasn’t enough time to drive back to the studio, collect the stands and return before I was due to perform.

So I had two choices.

Panic…

…or improvise.

And panicking wasn’t going to magically make two steel pan stands appear.

Then I had a brainwave.

Tables!

I managed to find two small tables, placed the steel pans carefully on top and suddenly we were back in business.

Was it my normal professional setup?

Absolutely not.

Would I recommend two random pub tables as specialist steel pan stands?

Probably not.

Did they work?

Absolutely!

The performance went ahead, the audience enjoyed themselves and I survived to tell the tale.

Problem solved.

Lesson learned.

And I suspect I checked the car rather more carefully before leaving for the next booking!

Then My Percussionist Did It…

Years later, I discovered that forgetting important pieces of equipment wasn’t exclusively a Gary problem.

My percussionist managed to take things to another level.

We travelled to a booking together, arrived at the venue and began unloading.

Steel pans?

Yes.

PA?

Yes.

Cases?

Yes.

Percussion?

Err…

No.

He’d forgotten to put his bongos and the stand in his car.

Not ideal when your job for the evening is…

playing the bongos.

We looked at each other.

There was no point getting stressed.

We were already at the booking and had a performance to deliver.

So once again, it was time for a little Steelasophical improvisation.

I had a spare set of pan sticks.

We had one of our wheelie equipment cases.

Put the two together and…

Congratulations! We have invented a percussion instrument.

My percussionist used the pan sticks to play rhythms on the top of the wheelie case.

Was it a set of bongos?

No.

Did anybody need to know that?

Also no!

We performed, made music and got on with the job.

Things Will Go Wrong

After decades of performing, I’ve learned something very important:

Things will occasionally go wrong.

You can prepare.

You can make lists.

You can double-check your equipment.

You can leave ridiculously early.

You can have backup plans.

And you should do all of those things.

But we’re human.

Equipment can fail. Something can be forgotten. Traffic can cause problems. Plans can change. Venues can suddenly move your performance area.

The important thing isn’t pretending that nothing will ever go wrong.

It’s how you react when it does.

Panic rarely solves anything.

Getting angry doesn’t make forgotten bongos suddenly materialise in the boot of the car.

Instead, stop.

Look at what you’ve actually got.

Understand the problem.

Then ask yourself:

“What can I do, right now, to make this work?”

Two small tables became steel pan stands.

A wheelie case became a percussion instrument.

And two potentially disastrous situations became funny stories that I’m still telling decades later.

That’s one of the great lessons live entertainment has taught me.

You don’t always need Plan A to work.

You just need to be good enough at finding Plan B.

Although these days…

I still recommend checking you’ve actually put the stands in the car!

You’re the One That I Want… You’re the Only One I Want!

Now, before anyone gets carried away, this isn’t a love story.

Well… not exactly.

It’s the story of the evening when I was booked to perform alongside a DJ—and somehow ended up being asked to replace him while he was still there!

Awkward?

Just a little.

The event was a fundraiser being held in memory of a young lad who had sadly lost his life following medical issues. Family, friends and supporters had come together for what was obviously a very meaningful occasion.

My role was straightforward.

I had been booked to perform two sets on steel pan.

My first set would be at the beginning of the evening, creating a relaxed atmosphere as guests arrived, met each other, grabbed their drinks and settled in.

After that, the DJ would take over.

Then later in the evening, I would return for my second and final set before handing things back to the DJ to finish the night.

Simple.

Everyone knew their job.

What could possibly go wrong?

Well…

Why Are They Both Looking at Me?

My first set went well, the DJ took over and everything continued as planned.

Eventually it was time for me to play my second set.

I was probably about halfway through when I noticed something happening on the other side of the room.

The organiser was talking to the DJ.

Nothing particularly unusual about that.

Except…

They both kept looking over at me.

You know that feeling when two people are having a conversation, occasionally looking in your direction, and you immediately start wondering:

“What have I done?”

Was I playing too loudly?

Was there a problem with the schedule?

Had I accidentally played something I shouldn’t have?

I carried on performing while trying not to look as though I was watching them watching me.

Then the organiser started walking towards me.

Here we go…

“Can You Keep Playing?”

She came over and explained that she’d like me to continue playing until the end of the evening.

Wow.

I certainly wasn’t expecting that.

Apparently, the guests were enjoying the live steel pan music so much that they wanted me to carry on rather than return to the DJ.

Now, that’s an incredibly flattering thing for any musician to hear.

But there was one tiny problem.

The DJ was still standing there!

Had the organiser quietly taken me to one side and asked, it would already have been slightly awkward.

But no.

Why make things easy?

She asked to borrow my microphone.

I handed it over, wondering what was about to happen.

She then made the request publicly…

OVER MY PA SYSTEM!

There was absolutely nowhere to hide.

She effectively asked the room whether they wanted me to carry on playing.

And judging by the reaction from her family, friends and guests, the answer was fairly conclusive.

YES!

At that point, what was I supposed to say?

“Sorry everyone, Gary has decided against popular demand!”

Not really an option.

So I carried on.

And carried on.

And carried on…

right through until the end.

The DJ Took It Well!

I should add that this wasn’t about trying to compete with another entertainer.

The DJ had been booked to do his job, and I’d been booked to do mine.

Sometimes, however, live events develop their own personality.

You can plan a running order perfectly, but once people are in the room, enjoying themselves, things can change.

On this particular evening, the guests simply connected with the live steel pan music and wanted more of it.

A lot more, apparently!

It remains one of the biggest compliments I’ve received during a performance.

Not because somebody quietly came over afterwards and said:

“We really enjoyed your music.”

That’s always lovely.

This was slightly different.

The organiser effectively conducted an instant audience vote while the other option was standing in the room!

Thankfully, I lived to tell the tale.

And hopefully the DJ has forgiven me.

When the Audience Decides the Running Order

After all these years performing with Steelasophical, I’ve learned that you can never completely predict what will happen at a live event.

Sometimes the best moments aren’t planned.

They’re spontaneous.

The atmosphere changes, the guests respond and suddenly the carefully prepared running order goes straight out of the window.

On this occasion, I arrived expecting to perform two sets.

Instead, halfway through my second set, I was publicly asked to just…

keep going.

So perhaps the title really does fit.

“You’re the one that I want…”

“You’re the only one I want…”

Although, if I’m completely truthful, I suspect the DJ would have preferred a slightly different song choice.

Sorry, mate!