Sax, Sunburn, and Surprises: Notes from TT Week

Every year, the TT descends on the Isle of Man like a revved-up whirlwind of leathers, lager, and legendary characters. For a gigging saxophonist like me, it’s a time when you never quite know what to expect—from the venue, the crowd, or even your own setlist.

This year was no different.

Soaking in some TT sun.

The Great Aussie Curveball

Let’s start with the Australians.

I’d just launched into what I thought was a crowd-pleasing smooth set—bit of Grover Washington, bit of Stevie Wonder. A group of sunburnt Aussies entered in full biker regalia with pints in hand, nodding along... or so I thought.

One of them wandered over, gave me a cheery thumbs-up and said in a thick Brisbane accent:

“Mate, you got anything slower? We're all old boys!”

Challenge accepted. Three minutes later I was looping "Never Tear Us Apart" on the fly, dodging a spilled pint and being offered a Vegemite sandwich out of someone’s jacket pocket. (Politely declined.)

The Czech Beat Drop

Then there was the Czech guy at a late-night bar set in Douglas.

He looked like someone who could rebuild a motorbike from scratch with a spoon, but turned out to be the most passionate country fan I’ve ever met. During a short break, he cornered me and said:

“Excuse me, can you do ‘Highwayman’”

I wasn’t sure if I was having my leg pulled or told to leave. Either way, we ended up with a moody version of Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, (et al.) which I’m fairly certain was the emotional highlight of his holiday. He cried. Twice.

The American Organiser Who Loved Jazz

And of course—no TT week would be complete without a last-minute curveball.

I was midway through setting up for a relaxed early evening set—something ambient, background, nice and easy—when an excitable American man in a linen shirt and sunglasses burst through the doors of the bar like he’d just won a game show.

“Hey man, I’ve got forty people outside and they love jazz. Like, real jazz. Bebop. Standards. Mingus, Coltrane, you name it. You ready?”

I blinked. I was very much not ready. I had planned for sunset soul and acoustic grooves, not a full-on jazz appreciation society walking into a pub in Ramsey.

But you don’t argue with that kind of enthusiasm.

Ten minutes later, I was deep into “All The Things You Are,” hoping no one would request anything in 5/4. The Americans clapped on two and four (bless them), the Guinness flowed, and I even got a standing ovation for a cheeky solo in “Autumn Leaves.”

It felt like New York met the Irish Sea. Loud, chaotic, brilliant.

Lessons Learned?

TT week taught me (again) that flexibility is the real secret weapon in any musician’s toolkit. You can prep your setlist, check your gear, even line up your backing tracks in military precision. But when a Czech synth enthusiast or an unexpected rainstorm comes knocking, it’s your ability to adapt that keeps the dance floor alive.

So here’s to the riders, the revellers, the randoms, and the requesters.

You make it weird.

You make it brilliant.

You make it worth it.

Catch you at the next one.

Chris 🎷