Bo­bie-lee Dixon

Many are lovers of our na­tion­al in­stru­ment, the steel­pan. But for pan­nist Trevor Stubbs it's more than just love–there isn't re­al­ly a word he can use to de­scribe his pas­sion for the in­stru­ment that came out of the bo­som of T&T. First falling in love with pan at the ten­der age of sev­en, Stubbs is back home for the first time in more than two decades, af­ter trav­el­ling the world ex­pos­ing dif­fer­ent cul­tures to "sweet pan." "It all be­gan when my un­cle, who was a lover of pan as well, be­gan tak­ing me in the yard of the pan side, In­vaders," Stubbs rem­i­nisced. "It was there I be­gan learn­ing how to play pan. "I re­alised I had the tal­ent to play and things just blos­somed from there." How­ev­er, af­ter spend­ing 13 years with In­vaders, Stubbs took a brave step and moved on, hook­ing up with a more pop­u­lar band–Phase II Pan Groove. He said: "One day, while at pan prac­tice in In­vaders pa­n­yard, I heard this sweet mu­sic com­ing from a pan side that passed right in front of our pa­n­yard. Their mu­sic was dif­fer­ent and in­fec­tious. The mu­sic, I dis­cov­ered, was com­ing from Phase II. Af­ter hear­ing them, I left In­vaders–they nev­er saw me again," said Stubbs.

A new Phase

While his mem­o­ries of his In­vaders days were bit­ter­sweet, Stubbs en­joyed find­ing "new­ness" with Phase II, dom­i­nat­ing the Na­tion­al Panora­ma when they placed first in 1987, with Dis Feel­ing Nice, and in 1988, with Woman is Boss.Both com­po­si­tions and arrange­ments were done by pan­man ex­troad­i­naire, Len "Boogsie" Sharpe, and sung by ca­lyp­son­ian Denyse Plum­mer. Stubbs said he was just hap­py to have been a part of it all. But in 1989, he ex­it­ed Phase II, tak­ing up an op­por­tu­ni­ty to mi­grate to the US to join a pan band and fur­ther his stud­ies in mu­sic. But when the band broke up, Stubbs be­gan work­ing so­lo, play­ing at var­i­ous ho­tels, schools and clubs. This brought recog­ni­tion to him and he land­ed a gig at the Sands Ho­tel in At­lantic City–the biggest gig at the time, he said. Stubbs would go on to play with oth­er pan groups through­out the US but, be­cause of mis­man­age­ment, he said, they too, col­lapsed.

Mak­ing his way

Af­ter bounc­ing around for a while, Stubbs found what he said was the most im­por­tant thing he learned since be­com­ing a pan­nist–mak­ing pans. "It was re­al­ly by ac­ci­dent," he said. "I got a gig with a band on a cruise line called The Ocean Majesty and on the first day, when we set up to play, my pan fell. When I picked it up, I no­ticed one of the notes was out." Stubbs said at the time he didn't know much about tun­ing pan but de­cid­ed to "try a ting." Us­ing a beer bot­tle, he brought back the note. This is when he de­cid­ed he should learn how to make pans. Stubbs met with pan great Rudy King, who took pan to the US in the 1940's. King taught him how to make and tune pans. To­day, Stubbs can boast of mak­ing every­thing from the base pan straight up to the tenor.

Pan needs love

Asked if he thought pan had reached the full­ness of its glo­ry, Stubbs said he is very dis­ap­point­ed with the way in which the pow­ers-that-1be have seemed to turn a blind eye to what he feels is the demise of our na­tion­al in­stru­ment. "Un­til our kids can have pan as com­pul­so­ry on the schools' cur­ricu­lum for mu­sic; un­til pan is not just seen as a 'Car­ni­val ting' and when we could love pan more than the tourists, pan would nev­er reach the full­ness of its glo­ry," he de­clared.