There are moments in life that defy logic—when youthful curiosity, deep friendship, and a spark of talent come together to create something timeless. For those who lived it, the story of Ultrasonics is one of those moments. For those hearing it for the first time, it’s a gentle invitation to remember how beautiful beginnings can be when driven by passion and purpose.
It began in 1973, not in a fancy studio or under the glare of stage lights, but in the humble classrooms of Bishop’s High School. There, amid the chalk dust and the sound of clanging lab equipment, a few physics students were dreaming beyond formulas. Garth and I were budding guitarists. Collin was a promising pianist. We weren’t virtuosos, but we had heart—and more importantly, we had each other.
The name came as if destined. While discussing the topic of Sound in class, Ricky Job shouted, “Let’s call the band Ultrasonics!” It was perfect. Not just because it meant the highest level of sound, but because it symbolized how high we hoped our music—and friendship—could soar.
We weren’t alone for long. Norton, with a voice as steady as the tide, became our lead singer. Robert, ever the engineer, took care of the technicals. Harold joined us from the class below, giving us rhythm. And Nichel—drawn in by the vibe—rounded us out on percussion. Together, we weren’t just a band. We were a brotherhood.
Our first public gig was the 1974 PTA Carnival Fete. The crowd danced, laughed, cheered—it was magic. The high from that night pushed us to host our own fete, which, to our astonishment, turned a profit. But money was never the goal. It was the joy. The shared purpose. The thrill of being part of something larger than ourselves.
Every Christmas from 1973 to 1977, we carolled from house to house, lighting up the hearts of our classmates’ parents and our neighbours. Music had become our gift, and we gave it generously.
Time, as it does, carried us forward. By 1976, life tugged us in different directions. University, work, responsibilities—Ultrasonics went quiet. Garth and I remained in Trinidad and Tobago and sang at weddings, funerals, and in hotels, holding onto the flame. Eventually, I too left for studies in Canada and India. Music, for a time, took a backseat to engineering.
But true harmony never dies. In 2017, I called the brothers back together. We returned not for fame, but for something deeper—a reunion of souls.
 In 2017, when we purchased instruments to donate to the school, we invited Marcia Miranda to join the band. Marcia had spent her early years at Bishop’s with us before transferring to a school in Trinidad at the end of third form, where she completed her secondary education. We saw her inclusion as an opportunity to bring new colour to the band’s vocal soundscape, and she graciously accepted. Since then, she has performed with us at every occasion, embracing her role wholeheartedly. Marcia considers herself an authentic member of the class of 1974, and so do we.
That same day, when the musical instruments and equipment were presented to the school, we were able to invite two talented students to perform alongside us. Carressa Ruiz, a gifted vocalist, and Daniel Attz, an accomplished saxophonist, joined us for that memorable performance. Their presence struck a chord with their fellow students. Carressa, in particular, has since become a fixture in the band, lending her voice to our continued journey and bridging the generations with grace and spirit.
The response was electric. It was as if time folded into itself and we were Ultrasonics again—only now, wiser and full of gratitude.
In 2024, we celebrated our 50th anniversary with another performance. Once again, the school roared with applause, students wide-eyed and inspired. And now, as the school approaches its centennial in 2025, we are tuning up for a performance we hope will be remembered for the next hundred years.
Ultrasonics isn’t just a band. It’s a legacy. A testament to what’s possible when passion meets purpose, and when friendship refuses to fade. Ours is a sound that began in the heart of Tobago, and one that still echoes in every strum, every beat, every voice lifted in song.
On September 12th, 2025, we will take the stage again—not for glory, but to remind the world that beautiful things never truly end. They just keep playing, one note at a time.
