9.39°C In this interview, Al Sharp of The SKBs says he’s nearly 60.
“Surely I should know better than trying to make a rock and roll album and promote it around the world at nearly 60,” he laughs. That’s where The SKBs name comes from – The Should Know Betters – although what began as a bucket-list idea has taken on a life of its own.
The first album was only ever meant to tick a box. Record the songs properly. Do it once. Move on. Instead, it’s closing in on 600,000 streams across 166 countries, with over 2,000 radio plays worldwide and a second album in the finishing stages.
The First Spark
It starts in March 1981 at Hammersmith Odeon. Status Quo. Al was 14.
They arrived at midday, back when there were no barriers and artists could step out of a Mercedes into full view of the queue. Alan Lancaster, climbing out of the car, was enough to plant the seed. When the lights dropped, and Caroline kicked in, Rick Parfitt stood centre stage, telecaster raised, and Al remembers thinking simply that he wanted to do that.
Music followed – school band, early groups, pink flares, smoke bombs that didn’t always go to plan. It was noisy, chaotic and fun.
The Beavers and the Break
In the 90s and early 2000s, he played with The Beavers, a busy Halstead-based function band run by Neil Hardy. Al recruited good friend Ian Robinson to the lineup. Corporate gigs, festivals, packed nights – proper working musician life. When Al left the band in 2002, a “Rock and Roll fall out” ensued, and the remaining members and Al didn’t speak for around 20 years.
Music drifted away, too. He assumed that chapter had closed.
The Restart
The restart happened in the toilets at the tennis club. Al bumped into Ian after two decades of silence, and the two embraced as if nothing had happened. A drink followed, then conversations, then the idea of finally recording the songs Al had been sitting on for years.
He remembered there was a studio in Rowhedge, but didn’t know who ran it. In 2024, at the Level 42 Castle Park gig, a man had asked if he’d been the bass player in The Beavers.
Later, when he dug out an old Beavers photo and asked who the long-haired bloke near the sound desk was, he realised it was the same man – Tom Donovan. That’s when the penny dropped. The songs would be recorded at Tom Donovan Studio in Rowhedge.
The connections, he says, kept circling back.
Ronnie From the Train
One of those connections began on a train from London. Slightly hungover, Al was playing a music quiz on his phone when an American voice asked if her husband could join in. The husband turned out to be Ronnie Miller, a steel guitarist who had spent more than 20 years playing for Charlie Pride and had worked around Johnny Cash and Dolly Parton.
Ronnie and Al swapped stories, and in yet another coincidence, it turned out Ian Robinson and Ronnie had a mutual friend. At the end of the journey, details were exchanged.
Some two years later, Tom suggested “Everything Must Change”, a track from the first album, could benefit from a steel guitar. A message to Ronnie resulted in a series of calls to the US, and a great steel guitar part was delivered to Tom.
Finally meeting in Colchester at the end of 2025, Ronnie asked about the Colchester gigs. Al told him he couldn’t even afford his airport parking, but Ronnie brushed that off – he simply loved the music and wanted to take part. Sadly, it won’t happen due to Ronnie’s other commitments, but it will for sure happen in the future.
The coincidences continued. Leon Cave, drummer with Status Quo (remember Al in 1981?), had just started a remote recording business and agreed to play on the first album. The relationship continued, and Leon is now a core part of the SKB sound. When Leon says he’s honoured to play live with the SKBs, Al admits he still feels that’s the wrong way round.
When It Travelled
The first album wasn’t built for scale. It was built because he wanted to. But it travelled anyway.
When it passed 100,000 streams, friends stopped joking about how many contacts he must have. It’s now approaching 600,000 streams across 166 countries.
Uruguay and Poland, he says, have become surprising hotspots – small but incredibly warm and engaged. Holland has been strong. Canada too. In the United States, there are now around six-and-a-half thousand followers. He laughs about the difference in audiences: the British are cautious and then loyal, Americans are either fully in from day one or brutally direct, and he’s learned not to take the occasional online swipe personally. “God invented the off button,” he says. “Just move on.”
Through the promotion platform Groover, a message arrived from Canadian broadcaster Alan Cross describing one of Al’s tracks, Dust in the Light, as “very good”. Allan initially didn’t grasp the significance until Canadian friends explained that Cross is a major syndicated radio figure across Canada – the kind of broadcaster mainstream media turns to for comment when global artists pass away.
Al asked if he could use the quote. Cross told him yes. They’ve stayed in touch since. Al was even in Canada before Christmas, and they nearly met, but timing didn’t quite line up.
It hasn’t made him rich, far from it! – streaming rarely does – but he approaches it seriously. He calls himself his own record label and treats the whole thing like a business. You don’t just release a product and hope people find it. You create demand. You engage. Watching the numbers move is part of the motivation as much as writing the songs.
The Hour Glass
The new single, Hourglass, feels like a natural next step. Allan describes it as poppy, rocky and distinctly SKB-ish, driven predominantly by Sara’s vocal, but it’s also reflective of where he is in life.
Approaching 60 has sharpened his perspective. Losing his mum last year did too. He jokes that he’s officially an orphan and that Barnardo’s haven’t been in touch, but he also talks about being near the top of the elevator and making the most of the time left.
The hourglass is turning.
He only wants to spend time with the people he wants to spend time with.
The first album happened because it was on the bucket list. The second is happening because he enjoyed the first so much.
The Collective
The SKBs aren’t a fixed band so much as a collective. Leon Cave. Sara Davey. Neville Martin. Ben Porteous-Butler. Jim Kirkpatrick. Ronnie Miller. Local and international players working side by side.
Writing changes when you know who’s going to perform a part. Songs are shaped with specific voices and styles in mind. It’s collaborative without being competitive.
Colchester Then and Now
He points out how much the local scene has evolved. When he was younger, the options were limited: Piccolo Padre, Oliver Twist, Colne Lodge, and The Town House. Now there’s Colchester Arts Centre, Three Wise Monkeys, Queen Street Brewhouse, Coda and more. A thriving, interconnected scene.
“We don’t see music as competition,” he says. “It’s a celebration.”
He also reflects on Alan Wareham, who has since passed away. “I used to work with Al, and he was always there to support whatever I did. “His spirit lives on with me and many other local people on the music scene”. When Al didn’t have the money for an amp for his first-ever gig, Paul Rutterford, of the Fabs and Judith Charmers fame, lent him one. Without that, he says, he might never have played live at all – and this album might never have happened.
Three Wise Monkeys
For all the international radio plays, overseas streams and unexpected global connections, it comes back to Colchester and two nights at Three Wise Monkeys.
The live line-up reflects the collective approach that’s shaped the albums. Leon Cave is on drums, Sara Davey leads the vocals, with Lincoln Grounds on guitar, Ben Porteous-Butler on keys and Ryan Davies on bass. Saturday’s show also features Chloe Bartlett, while Sunday includes Sisters of Mersea, and Ben Howard on DJ duties.
Allan says he’s never really suffered from stage fright, even in front of large crowds, but performing his own material carries a different uncertainty. A familiar cover will always land. An original song asks people to lean in.
If someone starts singing along – even just one line – that, he says, would be enough.
The SKBs play Three Wise Monkeys on 18th and 19th April.
If you want to hear the songs live, see the collective in full flow and be part of whatever this second act becomes next, tickets are available now via www.theskb.com.
