Daniel Lovell picked up his first guitar as a toddler, coincidentally the same year he was commissioned to work for a family of European royals as a bodyguard. His infinite loneliness, brought about by years of living in forced silence, gave rise to a catalogue of music, which he wrote to soothe his desperate soul. After Dan was unceremoniously removed from his government post following an alleged incident involving Greek olives, toaster strudel and an Opel T-1, he joined forces with the other members of Nightlite Mary and taught himself to play mandolin, Irish tin whistle, concertina, bagpipes and banjo in attempt to mask his true identity.
Paul Luisi’s bass playing career began when he broke the “g” and high “e” on his six string electric guitar. For his punishment, he practiced in the woodshed for years, efficiently using the four strings that remained. In that time, he became one with his melodic universe. When he is not playing with Nightlite Mary, he can be found fighting evil in the seedy parts of town. To him it’s not about vengeance… it’s not about glory… it’s about strapping into his rubber mask and suit, and finally getting to use all those expensive gadgets he bought over the years.
Paul Nolan is a third level druid, magician, and healer. In his spare time he whittles corndogs into drumsticks and contacts beings on neighboring planets using an interstellar chant of his own creation. Granted a boon when he was young for feeding a wayward Brahmin chilled cucumber soup, Paul received an electric guitar, which he smashed to pieces while watching Tommy after drinking a two liter of cola in one sitting. Learning his lesson, Paul plays the same American made Fender he’s had since high school, though he lost the tremolo bar the same year he lost his langostino. He hasn’t had a pet since.
Ben Lovell has been mercilessly obsessing over a particular singer since early childhood. The obsession caused him to alter his looks, learn a plethora of instruments and even adopt the same last name as his idol. When Nightlite Mary found Ben at the studio door, there was no other choice but to let him join the band. He’s been drinking Dan’s bourbon and smiling ever since. He also enjoys cookies.
Much of what is known about Dave Saville is shrouded in mystery. Conspiracy theorist belonging to the group, Percussion Invasion Theory (PIT), believe that clues to his existence can be traced back to 6,000BC. Modern science argues that if Dave has survived for so long, then drum kit technologies would have advanced beyond human understanding. “It’s the classic drummer keeps the beat, but the keeper beats the drummer paradox,” said Rory Buckleknob, official spokesperson for modern science. Members of PIT could not be reached for comment. A message on PIT’s old MySpace page simply reads: It is clear that Dave’s true origins have been covertly hidden by governments of the world, as their lust for a drum-free society (Die Trommelreinigungs) shimmers throughout history like a tarnished Zildjian.