Bret Chambers (friend): I never knew Kevin as the music legend. To me, he was my brother from the 12-Step meetings in the Tempe/Scottsdale area. Although I had many years of sobriety, he invited me to come to his house, where he hosted a men’s newcomer meeting to back him up as proof that there’s life after drinking. When a motorcycle accident shattered my leg, Kevin was one of many in the fellowship who made sure I had a ride to meetings. Kevin took me to get a haircut during that time, and as we waited our turn, he suggested that we grow our hair out and style it like Conway Twitty’s. That posed the question, “What’s the name of Conway Twitty’s hairstyle?” The barbers didn’t even know. We scrubbed the mission, which was probably best for all parties involved. Michael Pistrui (Fat Gray Cat): I first started seeing Kevin in Hellfire, The Hoods and Grant & The Geezers, before our family had moved back to Arizona from Michigan. We were all scared of Chuck (Holder), the bass player, because he was a bit wild, but Kevin was super nice and friendly to us Chandler skateboarders. Fast forward to Flathead; Swanny (Flathead singer/guitar player Greg Swanholm), who is also a Chandler boy, so we had that connection. Then, (Daly) tried for a few years to get my current band, Fat Gray Cat, which has been around for over 25 years, an opening slot for Grave Danger, and it just never worked out, until one night. There was a club called “Cat Eye” or something like that. Somehow, Grave Danger and Fat Gray Cat got booked at this club, and we were so excited to play with them. I remember getting to the club and starting to unload gear, and so was Kevin. We stopped and began to chat and catch up when this big tour bus pulled into the parking lot. We both gave each other a weird look, and sure enough, the venue had double-booked, and this was a “big time” touring band that had a contract. So, the club started dictating how our show would have to end early and finish at a certain time, which was not what was initially booked for us. Kevin and I looked at each other again and moved away, and had a private conver- sation. Kevin said, “We are out of here, we don’t roll like this,” and Fat Gray Cat felt the same way. Kevin was a veteran of Arizona music, and so I was happy when he said this, as that is how I was feeling about the show. Kevin was like a big brother to so many Arizona bands and musicians, and how he handled that night has stayed with me ever since. No BS with Kevin! Tony Beram (Placebo Records): I got a call from Buddy Knox’s manager in the early ‘80s. He was looking for a hot, young rockabilly band to back up Buddy on a tour of the Northwestern US and Western Canada. Buddy had a particularly big, loyal following in those parts. I called Kevin, and we shook hands on a quick deal for me to represent him and the Hoods. We put together a bio, a good press photo and a tape recording. I pitched and advocated for them to get that job as hard as I could. I was 20 or 21 at the time, and I guess I wasn’t up to it because Buddy’s guy passed. Kevin was always good to me and was one of my go-to guys for my concert produc- tions in the 1980s. We stayed in touch, and he did a couple paint jobs for me, including my current office and storefront. He was a great guy. I can’t believe he’s gone, darn it. Gear head Carlsten: Kevin was also a serious gear- head, and it showed in his songs. He was inducted into one of the oldest car clubs in Phoenix, the Midnighters, which started in 1955. The club helped get his ‘57 wagon on the road, and he told us it was the nicest hot rod he had ever had. He was chosen for his passion in everything he did, music, life, cars, and work ethic. Kevin was the person who would always look out for the underdog, letting them know he was there to support them and that he saw them. He knew the heart of any hot rod or motor- cycle was the engine. “Money in the Motor” from his last perfor- mance in public with Kevin Daly’s Chicken and Waffles gets right to the point: “My money is in the motor your junk is in the shop/They say Chrome won’t get you home/well I have been there and back” Kevin had a few different Cadillacs that were the big slow cars where all your friends would fit and was also a way of giving the finger to society when gas mileage became the driving force in car manufacturing. Harleys were the way to be solo, fully exposed to the elements, with no protection. Riding is the most raw way to experience a machine, and Kevin did it with grace and style, much like his guitar playing and songwriting. A locals’ convo about Daly’s ultra coolness The thing about all of these conversations about Kevin Daly is that they all circle back to the fact that Kevin Daly was a good dude. More than that, he was a good human being who was a friend and mentor to many, a big brother, a bandmate, a boyfriend, a brother, a son and an Arizona music legend. - Tom Reardon Rob Locker (AZPX Skateboards): Kevin sucked at skateboarding. Al Penzone (Nova Boys drummer and producer of the excellent Kevin Daly tribute series, Tales from the Dogpile): He was a big thing with the (Arizona) skater crew, right? I think just because back in the old days it was never like rockabilly night or hardcore night or fucking reggae night or something. All those bands played together on the same bill. So, you see JFA and TSOL, then you get Grant and Geezers and/or Hellfire, and then you get a reggae band all on the same bill. That’s where I think the Daly connec- tion to the skaters was, because they played with JFA a lot and a lot of the Southern California punk bands. The way the Geezers and Hellfire played, it was that thing of pure aggression, pure fun and chaos, so the skaters just kinda gravitated to it. But then Kevin was always cool, and the 14-to-15-year-old skinhead skater kids, you know, just thought he was the fucking coolest. Locker: He would appreciate that 100%. Penzone: Kevin had that big fucking, giant, bright smile, and he had that goofy laugh. Drunk or sober, you know, he was just the sweetest guy, but then again, when shit hit the fan, he was gonna be there no matter what. He was just always approachable, but again, it just starts off with his playing and his style. No one comes close to the Daly style. He never went that traditional, you know, straight up rockabilly bullshit, twangy stuff. He always had that weird country, jazz, metal thing that was always infused into his playing, so everybody looked at him and went, “Holy God, this guy is light years ahead of anybody else. The whole thing. It was so fucking impressive. I mean, he and Chuck (Holder, his bandmate in Grant and the Geezers and Hellfire) were defi- nitely a force. Kevin Daly from Grant & the Geezers. (Grant Cleaver) Celebration of Kevin Daly flyer with art by Jimmy Smith. (Ron Carlsten) >> p 14
