Paul Wilson… not your run-of-the-mill rock ‘n roll

O NE of my enduring questions in this life, when it comes to the ways and the things of God, is “why do the good sometimes die young?”

I have no answers.

Just an ever-increasing pile of questions, which I pray about often.

I’ve been praying for Paul Wilson’s family. He died last night.

Paul was the drummer for South African rock ‘n roll band Southern Gypsey Queen, and he was one of the most inspirational musicians and people I have ever had the privilege of knowing personally.

Paul and I first met in July 2008. We connected instantly. Both of us, along with his older brother Gareth, were sons of pastors. Both of us loved the old school rock ‘n roll and the gentler grooves of artists like John Mayer, Jack Johnson and Missy Higgins.

It was an easy friendship. SGQ and the RCB all got on very well.

So much so, that only two months after we had met, we travelled up to Gauteng to perform with SGQ in Pretoria…

To introduce us, Paulie stood up and said: “These are mates of ours we’ve known for a couple of years…”

Backstage at our first gig together, mid-2008.

Backstage at our first gig together, mid-2008.

Ah yes. It certainly felt that way. He was instantly likeable.

Paul wasn’t your run-of-the-mill rock ‘n roll. That is to say, he was the antithesis of Keith Richards. He was impeccably fit and healthy. I remember inviting the band around to lunch on one occasion, and as we chatted I found myself really¬†appreciating the discipline with which he conducted his life. Textbook-style on how to get into the Men’s Health Top 10.

Lunch. The Calders & the Wilsons.

Lunch. The Calders & the Wilsons.

But he wasn’t only a healthy eater and fitness guru. He’d saved up and bought a house with his wife in Molteno. He was being wise, planning for the future, and it spoke of a depth of character that I really admired.

Paul was not your run-of-the-mill rock ‘n roll. He was always smiling. Always. Except when he was banging the drumkit. Then he was ecstatic. Otherwise, he was smiling. Always. To me, he seemed content within himself, which made him a pleasure to be around.

Of all the tattoos he could have got, he chose a set of praying hands. Splayed majestically in black across his back. I asked him about it once. “I’m a rocker. I always need to pray.”

He was a beautiful soul. Not your run-of-the-mill rock ‘n roll.

At 29 years old, Paul made a big impression with his life. He touched many lives.

I will miss him. But am thankful to the Lord that I got to know him here on Earth before He took him home. Paulie has inspired me deeply.

Tags: , ,

No comments yet.

Leave a Reply

What We Need To Be Free From

HAVE you ever woken up on any particular day and think that life is just too much? There’s just too […]

What’s your instinctive view of God?


UNDER pressure, we reveal our true belief of ourselves and our true belief of God. There’s no hiding it. If […]

What’s going on in your head?

I often go running with playlists of music that keep me moving faster than I would ordinarily, and listening to […]

A story about Graeme Pope-Ellis

So in the midst of the my fitness programme, I try and keep some additional cardio going on. I generally […]