Born in South Shields, Brymer one of the finest clarinettists of our times, shared his birthday with Mozart, a composer of particular significance to him. He recalled buying his first pair of Boosey & Hawkes 1010s for £19, handing over his old battered instruments in part exchange, together with all his savings and £2 extracted from the gas meter.
Brymer was unusual in that he came from the world of amateur music and jazz, and brought to his orchestral playing a particularly warm and flexible tone. He considered it essential to be a musician first and a clarinettist second, and it was his outstanding musicianship, as well as his rich sound, that made his playing so memorable.
His professional career started when Sir Thomas Beecham appointed him principal clarinet of the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, and it went on to include extensive concerto, chamber music and recital work. These years with Beecham were his golden period, packed with outstanding musical experiences, some of them far from comfortable, as he recounted in his autobiography From Where I Sit (1979). After Beecham's death in 1961, he became co-principal clarinet in the BBC Symphony Orchestra (1963-71), and principal in the London Symphony Orchestra (1971-86).
Brymer recorded all the wind music of Mozart, including the Clarinet Concerto three times. The version he remembered with the most pleasure was the first, made in one session in 1958 under Beecham. Several works were written for him, including Three Pieces and a Clarinet Quintet by Armstrong Gibbs; Roundelay by Alan Richardson; and Guy Woolfenden's Clarinet Concerto.
In his later years, Brymer broadened his musical activities, describing himself as a 'soloist, chamber music player, teacher, orchestral player, broadcaster, quizzer, lecturer, disc jockey, jazz fan, saxophone quartet leader, transport organiser and map-reader, agent, accountant and tax-gatherer for HM government'. He relished the humorous moments thrown up by musical life, as once when he was late for a concert and hailed a taxi driver. 'Albert Hall,' he yelled, "as quick as you can, or quicker!" The driver didn't seem impressed. 'How many in yer outfit?' he asked. 'Ninety,' he was told. 'Blimey, mate,' he said, 'they won't 'arf miss yer!' He spoke truer than he knew.