I got my first wedding at a train station.

I was practising violin on the platform at Warwick, five years into learning, and a bride walked past and asked if I’d play at her wedding. I said yes before I really understood what I was agreeing to.

That was almost thirty years ago. I’ve been doing it ever since.

Somewhere along the way I picked up piano, guitar and singing, which means one person can cover your ceremony, your cocktail hour and your reception witout you having to book three of us. It also means I can play almost anything you ask for. Your favourite song, the classics everyone expects, and the occasional strange request that turns out to be the highlight of the night.

I’m also a high school music teacher, which is more relevant than it souds. Teaching teenagers means very little rattles me, and I’ve spent my working life learning how to read a room and adjust.

Here’s what that actually looks like on your day. I show up early. I soundcheck properly. Your processional ends when you reach the front, not four bars later. The volume during canapes lets people talk to each other. And if something goes sideways, which occasionally it does, I sort it out quietly and you never find out.

Being part of someone’s wedding still feels like a big deal to me. It did at that first one, and it does now.