It took me a while to discover the real Mel Galley, writes John Ogden.

See also: Pals in harmony as Mel slips away

I’d thrilled to his playing in Finders Keepers and Trapeze – even more so when I often played congas with the latter band, and nightly appreciated his technique, originality, and above all the emotion in his music.

But it wasn’t until the band seemed doomed, with the departure of Glenn Hughes to Deep Purple, that I truly appreciated his qualities as a man.

Likeable, modest, and shy, Mel stepped up to become the leader of the band, forcing himself to take on the responsibilities of that role, making the decisions, taking charge on the road, and succeeding beyond everyone’s expectations.

But this act of courage was dwarfed by his struggles against a series of misfortunes in his later life, not least his reaction to the shock news that he had only a few weeks left to live. He instantly determined to celebrate his life by saying a personal farewell to all his pals, but was astonished by the number of stars and well-wishers who phoned him up or made a pilgrimage to his two HQs in Cannock, the Park Gate and the Talbot. Here, cared for and supported by his wife Annette, he cheerfully held court as the stories and reminiscences flowed.

Mel’s versatility and virtuosity truly came to the fore in the three-piece Trapeze. To the heavy, riff-laden rock which came scorching from their first album, Medusa, he produced an irresistible funkiness for the follow-up, You Are The Music, We’re Just The Band, and also proved he could play sweetly enough to tempt the Sirens from their rock, given half a chance. When Glenn quit, Mel not only kept Trapeze together, recruiting Pete Wright on bass and Rob Elcock on guitar, to join him and drummer Dave Holland, he also replaced the man dubbed “The Voice Of Rock,” as a singer – a task way beyond most – and did it ably enough to please old-established fans and see the band through several more albums.

Record success eluded the band, however, and Mel, Dave, and Trapeze founder member Terry Rowley became Justin Hayward and John Lodge’s Blue Jays for their only tour, before Dave joined Judas Priest and Mel was recruited into Whitesnake by long-time admirer David Coverdale.

It was Mel’s great regret that Trapeze missed out on fame in their own right. All three musicians went on to world renown, and Mel’s playing and song writing (at first in tandem with his brother Tom, and later with Coverdale) helped make Whitesnake one of the top five bands of the 1980s.

Soon after the band headlined the Donington Monsters of Rock Festival, he was larking about in a street in Germany, and badly smashed his left arm, and back in England he contracted a virus which rapidly ate away the nerves in the injured limb. He battled back with the help of prosthetics specialist Andrew Collins, of Walsall Manor Hospital, who devised a special brace – referred to as The Claw.

Mel told me: “Going to the Manor did me good in another way, because I was feeling so sorry for myself. Then I saw two young kids; one had lost one leg and the other two legs, and they were really putting an effort into walking again. It was a lovely wake-up call.’”

But there was a new blow when he returned to Whitesnake: he was fired because, he was told, the brace went against the band’s image. He teamed up with fellow ex-Whitesnakers Bernie Marsden and Neil Murray to form MGM, and the brace, highlighted on TV, led to other injured musicians getting help and inspiration to play again.

When MGM split, Mel guested on several people’s albums. Sadly he returned to Cannock disillusioned with the industry.

Apart from a Trapeze reunion which saw two acclaimed sell-out gigs at the Robin R&B Club, Brierley Hill, in 1994, followed by a short American tour to mark the re-release of their Threshhold albums, Mel did very little playing, and later lost confidence altogether. But last year, in the small hours of the morning, he picked up a guitar and began to play again, and later did two numbers to a sell-out audience at the Tackeroo Club near his home.

He leaves Annette, drummer Mark, his son by his first wife Jane, and another son Lucas, a fine guitarist.