05/09/2026
Sad news from the Velvet Elvis camp. From guitarist Dan Trisko, "As many of you know by now, our bassist Scott Stoess passed away last month, and as recently as today I had inquiries about it, so the news is trickling out slowly. That's because he wanted no fanfare, tributes, etc and I wanted to respect his privacy.
And to be honest , I'm still processing his passing. He was a huge part of my life for over 40 years. But I do want to share my history and feelings about him, because his impact upon me was so profound.
It started, of course, with music. I was driving one day in 1983 and out of my car radio WKQQ DJ Ross Martin played a cut by a Lexington band called "The N." A few seconds in, I pull my car over because my mind is being blown. A local band is getting radio play?!? On a commercial radio station?
Everything -the song, the players, the vocals, the sound and production- was phenomenal. I literally could not believe what I was hearing.I needed to check these guys out, because I had just begun writing songs the year before and was looking to form a band. And here was a band a step ahead of me, so I had questions!
So I went to their next gig, at a UK frat house. It was packed, hot and sweaty, and people were dancing to this band doing originals! I made my way upfront, positioned myself right in front the first band member I came across.
It was Scott. I've told people this story many times, but I'll never forget that first impression of him. For some reason, I was looking down and noticed his cool shoes first, then looked up at this dude who looked like Sting's cousin, with swagger to spare. And playing a Fender bass with bass lines I wished I could've come up with. He was the real deal. This guy was a rock star, and it was only a matter of time before everyone else found out.
As he's singing, he makes eye contact with me, and gives me a look, like he wanted to tell me something. So I stick around, and when the set ends, he comes over-and says my name, as he introduces himself. WHAT? He knows who I am? How is this possible? I was just a local schmoe playing Stones covers in bars, how could he possibly be aware of me? But he was, and we were thick as thieves in short order as we bonded over music.
So I went for it. I tried my best pitch - I was writing songs that had a unique interplay between the guitar and bass, and he was the only man for the job, and I rattle off my influences.
It didn't work. He was content where he was, so I moved on and formed Velvet Elvis with Doug Carman, John Clark, and Sherri McGee. The N disbanded a little while later, and Scott joined Jil Thorpe & the Beat Boys, and I followed his career. But in 1985 I had the opportunity to try again to get him in the band, and this time it worked! We recruited Jeff Yurkoski as our 4th member, and we were off to the races.
By the time Scott joined, I had a couple dozen or so songs, so the template/sound was already established, and it's not easy to add your own mojo to a band that already has a "sound." But he did. To keep this tribute from getting even longer than it is, I'll try to just summarize it- he was the guy in the band with the best taste and instincts. He was very confident in us. That allowed him to make a mark on the band that most folks perhaps could not see or recognize. He pushed us to go harder, farther, to not be afraid. And he wasn't afraid to tell me what songs were better than others, so the live shows leaned in that direction, and as always, he was right.
We didn't see eye-to-eye when we compared our record collections, but it didn't seem to matter. (But it did seep in eventually. One of my great little victories was about 5 years ago, when I came upon him listening to "Surf's Up" in his garage. "You were right about the Beach Boys, Mr.Trisko!" I was thrilled.)
Scott guided us through the Mitch Easter/Enigma records era when we toured the country, acting as a co-manager in effect with our real manager, who was often sidetracked with his primary business concern, Cut Corner Records. Scott talked me off the ledge more than a few times, as our career did not play out as planned.
But he stuck with me until it was all over and we disbanded. But he continued to be a major influence over me, helping me get a job more than once over the next few decades, and as always, giving advice when I asked for it (a lot). The beauty of it was that we were able to work together for many of those years, so our bond remained strong.
He was an amazing musician, likely the best I ever played with. One time, I was hired to play a solo acoustic show at a private party, and he was there unexpectedly. When I play these type of shows, I'm playing guitars that are in alternate tunings, lower pitch tunings, etc., making it difficult to sit in, and I warned him it would not be easy-looking at my hands wouldn't tell him a thing. "No worry, my friend" - and he does it anyway, and he's perfect. Between songs, half of which he does not know, I'm leaning over to him. "How are you doing this!?!" He just smiled and shrugged.
Last year, hanging out in his garage servicing our cars (or more accurately, me spouting off a lot while he did the heavy lifting-he could probably build a car from scratch) we observed that the 40th anniversary of "What in the World" was approaching. We both had a soft spot for that record, we thought it was our best. We talked about maybe playing those songs again, someway,somehow. It got as far as a re-union with the 4 of us at Jeff's house, and afterwards we kicked around the idea of a one-time only show. Always the optimist, he encouraged us to carry on with that idea, but declined, for reasons he didn't have to say, to join us.
I could go on and on with Scott stories, but the other thing I want to emphasize is how smart he was. He was smarter than me, and he knew it I suppose, but he was always Mr. Modest, with a sly wink at times. But I always felt humbled to be in his orbit, like I was lucky. You could talk to him about anything, with insights I'd not considered. I was amazed by not only his expertise, but complete lack of arrogance. You know the expression "What would Dolly do?" For me, in times of struggle or doubt, it was "What would Scott do?"
He was ailing the last few years. The dignity in which he faced the inevitable is something I will never forget. When I'm in that position, I can only hope to show as much patience, kindness, and grace as he did.
Love and peace to you, my brother. You were one of the greats, and you'll be with me the rest of my life."
