The Rev. Carl Roberts, left, Alan Hirano, on bass, right. Photo: Sherri MirandaBass player and friend of Mr. and Mrs. ShellHawk, Alan Hirano, passed away in his sleep on January 14th, 2009, after a long struggle with numerous health issues. On his MySpace page, he claimed to have been 102. If so, he looked fabulous for his age.
You have probably never heard of Alan Hirano, but chances are, you have heard him. Alan played bass since childhood, and had his first paid recording gig at Capitol records when he was 16 years old. Alan has played with many of the greats, such as B.B. King, Isaac Hayes, Billy Preston, John Mayall and Ronnie Mack.
Alan and I met when I was at a pub in Santa Monica and he was playing bass with his soul band, The Samurai Homeboys. Alan found out I had managed an Irish band he knew and asked if I could help with booking his band. I agreed, and we developed a partnership and a friendship that I will treasure always.
When I mentioned to Alan I was getting married to Mr. ShellHawk, and asked for his help in writing a song as a gift for him, Alan agreed. Over the next few months we worked together on the project, The Waterfall and the Man, eventually bringing the Homeboys in to record their various parts. Alan and The Homeboys really internalized the feeling I wanted this song to convey to Mr. ShellHawk, and it showed on the final recording.
Alan treated the song as his baby from the moment I placed the words in his hands, and although I had no experience in songwriting, he always made me feel as though my song was as important as any on the Top 10 at Rolling Stone. Sometimes it didn't seem like the inanimate objects we worked with wanted to cooperate, but Alan's legendary sense of humor kept all of us going. My friend Nancy and Mr. ShellHawk's best man, Brian, recorded their vocals at the Samurai Village Studios in Chatsworth, California. All the while, the project was kept secret from Mr. ShellHawk until its unveiling as his wedding present at our wedding reception. The Samurai Homeboys played it for the first time in front of an audience, Alan's bass keeping time. It was a moment I'll never forget.
Alan and I maintained contact, even after I moved away and was no longer able to give The Samurai Homeboys the attention they deserved. As I ran across different avenues to promote his band, I'd email him or call, and he was always glad to hear from me and find out I still had him and his brainchild on my mind. Alan was also a producer on other bands' albums, and would sometimes send me a song or two to get some outside input. I don't mention this to aggrandize myself; Alan lived and breathed music, and strived to make every song its absolute best.
Alan is survived by the people whose lives he touched so deeply, and I am proud to call myself one of them. He will be deeply missed by us all.
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