Alan was a great man in every sense of the word. Not ‘great’ in the lofty way we often mean when someone is admired, but great in the way that touches lives deeply and profoundly. He was a towering intellect but he always carried that brilliance with a disarming humility. He shared his intelligence as a gift, making the world around him richer, sharper—and much funnier. Alan had that rare ability to take the mundanity of the everyday and find the absurdity, joy, and humour in it. Whether it was driving Liam and I to the airport at some ungodly hour (as we indulged our Vegas fight weekend habits) or an encouraging word about the percussive efforts of me and Jack, Alan infused it with warmth and wit. He didn’t just make you feel welcome; he made you feel valued, as he did anyone attempting to navigate life with a bit of creativity and ambition. An encourager of others, he was an advocate of my writing and, later, my own teaching at Liverpool University. His loss is enormous. The world was brighter with Alan in it, and I’ll try to carry that light forward.