I wrote a bit of a depressing post last time, so want to follow it up with something a whole lot lovlier. With trips to the cinema no longer happening in my neck of the woods I have gone old-school and am hosting a socially-distanced weekly soiree at the holiday hideaway (now sitting empty for obvious reasons) where we take turns in picking a DVD to watch. With so much choice out there nowadays via the various streaming services, it’s sometimes more satisfying to just pick a single film and run with it, a bit like when we all went to the local arts centre on the last Thursday of the month to watch whatever was on at 8.30pm. (Made some amazing new discoveries that would otherwise have been missed.)
It was my turn to pick and as the only customer in our local HMV last Saturday I felt duty bound to buy something, so started looking at the section for films starting with the letters A-D (I’m a great fan of alphabetisation). I know he’s not for everyone, but I am also a great fan of Richard Curtis movies so went for this one, About Time from 2013. Mr WIAA is not and never has been a member of Film Club, so the fact it was a very girly movie didn’t matter as he could stay home and watch Movies For Men. Despite finding common ground most of the time, we do occasionally like to veer off to the extremes of the genre spectrum.
As it turned out, the film was not vintage Richard Curtis, and seemed to have been written to a very familiar formula. Plenty of posh middle class Englishmen and smart American women, but somehow not as funny as the other films I’ve written about here and a basic premise that was slightly ridiculous – Time travel effected by standing in a wardrobe and clenching your fists (not quite the Tardis or a DeLorean). One aspect that did work for me however was the soundtrack, and I have been afflicted by yet another earworm this week because of one particular song choice. In the film it was sung by a group of tube station buskers (played by Jon Boden & Friends), who also provided the version for the end credits, but for me, the best version is still the original – How Long Will I Love You by The Waterboys.
It’s a love song, but a low key and not overly sentimental one. A simple proclamation of undying love written by band member Mike Scott for their 1990 album, Room to Roam. I am a great fan of The Waterboys and they have appeared around here before as I shared their 1985 masterpiece The Whole Of The Moon as part of my Full Moon Calendar in Song series. Back then they were proponents of “The Big Music”, anthemic rock popularised by many Scottish and Irish bands of the time, but by 1990 they were more of a folk rock band. Surprisingly this song was never released by them as a single, which is a shame, as 23 years later Ellie Goulding reached the No. 3 spot in the UK Singles Chart with it, no doubt because of the publicity it received from its connection to the film.
Not sure why this song has affected me quite so much this week – Touch wood Mr WIAA and I are still good, despite his occasional foray into the world of Movies For Men and my fondness for the odd rom-com. With DD back living at home I am once again involved in the lives of her friends, and really feel for them trying to navigate this brave new world filled with anxiety, and hurdles to be overcome. Finding love has never been tougher, and I doubt very much if Mike Scott considered a global pandemic when he wrote his beautiful lyrics back in 1990. No, I doubt it very much indeed.
Until next time….
How Long Will I Love You Lyrics (Song by Mike Scott)
How long will I love you As long as there are stars above you And longer if I can
How long will I need you As long as the seasons need to Follow their plan
How long will I be with you As long as the sea is bound to wash upon the sand
How long will I want you As long as you want me to And longer by far
How long will I hold you As long as your father told you As long as you are
How long will I give to you As long as I live to you However long it you say
How long will I love you As long as are stars above you And longer if I may
I think I’ve mentioned around here before that I have another blog set up as an homage to my favourite Scottish author, Jane Duncan. I’ve not updated it for a while but today decided to check if anyone had visited recently. Turns out they had, and all because I’d included a recipe for Girdle Scones a fair while back. In these days of staying at home, it seems more and more of us are trying our hands at baking, and girdle scones couldn’t be easier to make. Just to be clear, I’ve not made a typo there, I do mean girdle and not griddle, as that’s just what it’s called around here.
I had included that recipe after paying a visit to MacDonald’s Hardware in Dingwall (click on the link to see what their very Scottish best-selling item is), where I’d spotted a girdle just like the one my granny used to have. Most mornings, especially during the long summer holidays when her grandchildren were around, she would mix together a few ingredients and make some pancakes or scones. I absolutely had to buy one for myself, and soon found the perfect recipe, ironically on a website set up by a lady in Dunedin, New Zealand. Considering Dunedin (Dùn Èideann) is the Scottish Gaelic name for Edinburgh, and considering the fact that New Zealand is awash with the offspring of former Scottish immigrants, I thought it was quite fitting.
In case you want to try them out for yourself (a heavy frying pan can be substituted for a girdle), here is that recipe. Very easy indeed, and quick to make. I took some pictures last time I made some and you must admit, they do look tasty, especially if spread with homemade strawberry jam.
1 cup plain flour
2 tspns baking powder
1/2 oz butter
pinch of salt
1/2 cup currants
1/2 cup milk
Sift the dry ingredients into a bowl.
Rub in the butter until it resembles fine breadcrumbs.
Stir in the currants (or sultanas if you prefer) and then add just enough milk to make a soft dough. Don’t add all the milk at once though, in case you don’t need all of it. If your dough looks a little sticky don’t be afraid to add a little more flour.
Roll out to roughly 1/2 an inch thick and cut into six wedges.
Grease the girdle then place on a hob until hot. Carefully transfer the “snuggled up” wedges onto the girdle and wait until golden brown and cooked in the middle. Takes roughly 5 minutes on either side. When turning your wedges, be careful to place them gently on the hot surface, and try to turn them only once.
Transfer to a cooling rack and enjoy.
But of course this is supposed to be a music blog, so where’s the song? At first I was a bit stumped, as not many songs about baking out there and I’ve already exhausted my stash of kitchen songs for an earlier post. All seemed lost, then a light bulb moment, and I was reminded of this classic from 1978, Baker Street by Gerry Rafferty.
Baker Street by Gerry Rafferty:
Named after a street in London which had no doubt housed bakeries centuries earlier, the song was included on Gerry’s album, City to City. It came along during my last year at senior school and although it didn’t make it to the No.1 spot, it certainly did hang around the charts for an awful long time. The song had apparently been written when he was commuting between his home in Glasgow and his lawyers in London, trying to disentangle himself from the contract he’d had with his previous band Stealers Wheel. “I knew a guy who lived in a little flat off Baker Street,” he said. “We’d sit and chat or play guitar there through the night.” Of course for most of us, the most memorable part of the song is the prominent eight-bar saxophone riff played as a break between verses.
So, “What’s It All About?” – It’s a funny old business being on lockdown isn’t it, and although I’ve been on a real roller-coaster of emotions over the last few weeks (as can be seem from the material in my blog posts), today I think I just let it go. It’s been lovely and sunny, so our morning walk (for exercise) took in a really picturesque part of town and I made a little film when I came home with the shots taken on my phone. In the afternoon I rearranged the furniture to create a comforting little nook in the now redundant dining room that overlooks the garden. No-one will be coming to visit for some time, so we can live just how we want at the moment. I think we are all appreciating our food a lot more, and valuing where it comes from, so spending time in the kitchen is less of a chore and more of a joy.
Having said all that, if you are a frontline or key worker, or indeed trying to work from home whilst home-schooling children, I know your experience of lockdown will be a totally different one. I do feel guilty that the way things have landed, neither Mr WIAA or myself are currently of much use to anyone, but hopefully our time will come. Tomorrow I might fall to pieces again, but until then, I will enjoy Gerry and enjoy my scones. Should you choose to accept the mission of making them, you will not be disappointed.
Until Next time….
Baker Street Lyrics (Song by Gerry Rafferty)
Winding your way down on Baker Street Light in your head and dead on your feet Well, another crazy day You’ll drink the night away And forget about everything This city desert makes you feel so cold It’s got so many people, but it’s got no soul And it’s taken you so long To find out you were wrong When you thought it held everything
You used to think that it was so easy You used to say that it was so easy But you’re trying, you’re trying now Another year and then you’d be happy Just one more year and then you’d be happy But you’re crying, you’re crying now
Way down the street there’s a light in his place He opens the door, he’s got that look on his face And he asks you where you’ve been You tell him who you’ve seen And you talk about anything He’s got this dream about buying some land He’s gonna give up the booze and the one-night stands And then he’ll settle down In some quiet little town And forget about everything
But you know he’ll always keep moving You know he’s never gonna stop moving ‘Cause he’s rolling, he’s the rolling stone And when you wake up, it’s a new morning The sun is shining, it’s a new morning And you’re going, you’re going home
When I was young, and worked in offices, I couldn’t wait for the weekend to come. From this end of the telescope I really want time to slow down a bit more, as the weekend comes round just too quickly (although always a treat to have another edition of Rol’sSaturday Snapshots). Last year I dashed off a quick poem about this phenomenon for my writing class and it made reference to three songs. As I was the most mature (chronologically) of all the students in my group, no-one recognised the songs, but I’m pretty sure regular visitors to this place will pick them out easily.
I Don’t Like Fridays
Always used to have Friday on my mind Start of the weekend The promise (often unfulfilled) of exciting times ahead
Now it comes round too quickly Another hundred and sixty eight hours gone Whoa time, slow down, you move too fast
Boomtown Bob didn’t like Mondays Now I want Mondays to last forever So much left to do
So little time…
Friday On My Mind by the Easybeats:
Back then I realised I knew very little about Australian group the Easybeats who had a big hit in 1966 with Friday On My Mind, so I did a little research, and as often happens around here, I discovered a fascinating rock and pop family tree.
This winter has been quite mild here in Scotland but back in 1962-63 we had what was called The Big Freeze, the worst winter on record with snow lying eight feet deep. A TV advert at the time offered assisted travel to families who fancied a new life in Australia, and 15 members of the Young family from Glasgow moved there in June 1963. One of their sons was George Young who went on to form the Easybeats. His younger brothers Malcolm and Angus went on to form AC/DC a decade later. The Easybeats disbanded in 1969 but then in 1976 George got together with his old bandmate Harry Vanda to form new wave group Flash and the Pan.
Had the winter of 1962-63 been a mild one none of these bands might ever have existed. The family initially stayed at Villawood Immigration Detention Centre on the outskirts of Sydney which was where George Young met and became friends with another migrant, Dutchman Harry Vanda, and together they formed the Easybeats. Malcolm and Angus Young then developed the idea for their band. The name came about after their sister Margaret saw the initials “AC/DC” on her sewing machine. The brothers felt this name symbolised the raw energy and power-driven performances of their music. It was she who also came up with the very memorable schoolboy outfit for Angus Young.
I can’t pretend to be a fan of AC/DC but of course I know of their musical output, although probably attributed more to having watched the film School of Rock several times. I can’t pretend to be a fan of Jack Black either, as he always comes across as just a bit too manic for my liking, but that kind of characterisation was just what was needed for this film. (Fast forward to 2:30 for the best bit in this clip.)
The song Waiting For A Train by Flash and the Pan (George and Harry’s new wave band) was the one that did best in the UK Singles Chart. It reached the No. 7 spot in 1983.
So, “What’s It All About? – I know there are lots of you who still long for the weekend but trust me, once you get to my age, you do want the week to slow down a bit more.
As for the song Friday On My Mind, Harry Vanda described it as reminiscent of the days when the band members lived in hostels in Sydney as “new Australians”. They longed for the end of the week because that’s when the fun began. The song has quite a build-up and after the opening cymbal crash, its just a staccato guitar for the next 20 seconds where the lead vocalist runs through the days of the week, explaining why Monday to Thursday doesn’t excite him. The bass finally comes in as he gets closer to the weekend. 30 seconds into the song we hit Friday, and the drums come in to play.
Well, that’s Saturday Snapshots played and my Saturday blogpost written. Better head off now and achieve meaningful things, as before we know it, it’ll be Friday again. Argh.
Until next time….
Friday On My Mind Lyrics (Song by George Young/Harry Vanda)
Monday mornin’ feels so bad Ev’rybody seems to nag me Comin’ Tuesday I feel better Even my old man looks good Wed’sday just don’t go Thursday goes too slow I’ve got Friday on my mind
Gonna have fun in the city Be with my girl, she’s so pretty She looks fine tonight She is out of sight to me Tonight I’ll spend my bread, tonight I’ll lose my head, tonight I’ve got to get to night Monday I’ll have Friday on my mind
Do the five day grind once more I know of nothin’ else that bugs me More than workin’ for the rich man Hey! I’ll change that scene one day Today I might be mad, tomorrow I’ll be glad ‘Cause I’ll have Friday on my mind
This week I watched the BRIT Awards. It’s a big night for those in the music industry as a large clutch of awards can really raise sales to stratospheric levels – But enough about “The Suits” from the record companies, it is also a big night for the artists who have worked hard on their craft and been allowed to shine over the last 12 months. For many, all their dreams have come true, but for others, they may crash and burn – Lets hope most will fall into the former camp.
The big winner at the Grammys this year was American Billie Eilish, who is only 18 years old. She was also a big winner at the BRITs and performed the new Bond theme song No Time To Die written by her brother, who simply goes by the name Finneas.Billie certainly doesn’t follow any of the normal rules associated with pop princesses, and eschews make-up, hair extensions and skimpy clothing. With her lime green hair, she is a breath of fresh air in an increasingly plasticised world. What upset me however was that when she received her award she became quite emotional, as she’d been feeling “hated” of late on social media, but the reception she got from the crowd on Tuesday night had made her feel “loved”. Regulars around here will know my last post was about the #BeKind movement, and for Billie’s sake, I hope those who hide behind their keyboards spouting hatred take heed, and start being kinder.
Another big winner on Tuesday night was Scotland’s own Lewis Capaldi who won both the award for Best New Artist and also for Song of the Year. Like Billie he is no conventional pop idol, which is great, and as is his way, his acceptance speech was peppered with the kind of language not allowed on pre-watershed telly, so we didn’t get to hear any of it. He is so typically Glaswegian however and has that knack of not taking himself too seriously which I love. His Italian surname is the same as that of fellow Glaswegian Peter Capaldi, and yes, it turns out they are related, sharing a great-grandfather. Peter even appeared in the video for Lewis’ song of the year, Someone You Loved.
Another family connection that surprised me when watching Tuesday night’s show, was that Mabel, winner of Best British Female Solo Artist, has a mum who herself is the proud owner of three BRIT awards. Who could this be I wondered and did a quick google search – Her mum turns out to be Neneh Cherry and frighteningly, her awards were all received on the show exactly 30 years ago to the day. I remember watching that show well and honest to goodness, it feels like only about 10 years ago! Mabel also put in a great performance of her big hit Don’t Call Me Up on the night which reminded me a lot of Dua Lipa’s New Rules from two year’s ago. More stories of strong women taking control – A regular theme for the 21st century it seems.
But here is a clip of the most powerful performance of the night. Dave, from Streatham in South London, won the award for British Album of the Year which is apparently “the big one”. As a woman of a certain age living in the Scottish Highlands, I could not be culturally more different from Dave and his “brothers”, but listening to his Brits’ version of Black which had an incredibly moving verse added at the end encompassing a tribute to London Bridge terror attack victim Jack Merritt, it does make me understand their world a little more. Two years ago Stormzy blew me away at the Brits, but this year it was Dave. I urge you to watch until the end, and also, to admire the very clever graphics on the piano.
But getting back to Neneh Cherry, in case anyone has forgotten just how good she was back in the day, here is one of my all-time favourite songs – 7 Seconds by Youssou N’Dour featuring Neneh Cherry. It was released in 1994 as a single, and reached the No. 1 spot in numerous countries. In France it stayed at No. 1 for a record 16 weeks and it also won the MTV Europe Music Award for Best Song of 1994. 7 Seconds is apparently about the first positive 7 seconds in the life of a newborn child, a child who does not know about the problems and violence in our world. Three different languages were used in the song: English, French and Wolof, which is a language spoken in Senegal, Gambia, and Mauritania. Also very apt I think for today’s post.
7 Seconds by Youssou N’Dour and Neneh Cherry:
Until next time….
7 Seconds Lyrics (Song by Neneh Cherry/Youssou N’Dour/Cameron McVey/Jonathan Sharp)
Boul ma sene, boul ma guiss madi re nga fokni mane Khamouma li neka thi sama souf ak thi guinaw Beugouma kouma khol oaldine yaw li neka si yaw mo ne si man, li ne si mane moye dilene diapale
Roughneck and rudeness, We should be using On the ones who practice wicked charms For the sword and the stone Bad to the bone Battle is not over Even when it’s won
And when a child is born Into this world It has no concept Of the tone the skin is living in
It’s not a second Seven seconds away Just as long as I stay I’ll be waiting It’s not a second Seven seconds away Just as long as I stay I’ll be waiting I’ll be waiting I’ll be waiting
J’assume les raisons qui nous poussent de changer tout, J’aimerais qu’on oublie leur couleur pour qu’ils esperent Beaucoup de sentiments de races qui font qu’ils desesperent Je veux les deux mains ouvertes, Des amis pour parler de leur peine, de leur joie Pour qu’ils leur filent des infos qui ne divisent pas Changer
Seven seconds away Just as long as I stay I’ll be waiting It’s not a second Seven seconds away Just as long as I stay I’ll be waiting I’ll be waiting I’ll be waiting
And when a child is born Into this world It has no concept Of the tone the skin it’s living in
And there’s a million voices And there’s a million voices To tell you what you should be thinking So you better sober up for just a second
We’re seven seconds away Just as long as I stay I’ll be waiting It’s not a second We’re seven seconds away For just as long as I stay I’ll be waiting It’s not a second Seven seconds away Just as long as I stay I’ll be waiting
Didn’t intend this to be the third post in what has turned out to be a trilogy, but still in shock over the tragic loss of my friend’s daughter, and on Friday the funeral took place in a church right in the centre of our town. An emotional event as expected, which threw our highly efficient local undertakers into a spin, as they’d never before had to try and seat so many people at one service. It was standing room only, which again makes me question what on earth we are doing to our young people. How is it they can feel just so alone, yet have so many people who care about them? Far too complex an issue to go into here but it has left many of us fearful for our own brood.
After a heartfelt poem written by and read out by a family friend, a reading by her sister, and the eulogy covering all the amazing achievements racked up during her brief 18 years, it was time for Holly’s wicker coffin to leave the church. Once outside, the town’s pipe band of which she had been a member, marched in front of the hearse to the cemetery for a private burial. People who didn’t know her or her family came out of their homes and shops to pay respect to this local girl who’d had just far too short a time on the planet. None of us noticed it at the time, but because of the rain that was falling, a rainbow had formed in the sky.
But as I always say around here this is a music blog and amongst all this sadness I have made a new musical discovery. I have been tardy as ever, but Gerry Cinnamon, a Scottish singer-songwriter and acoustic guitarist, has been slowly building up a following over the last few years and tickets for his latest stadium concert apparently sold out on Friday in three minutes. Like TheProclaimersbefore him, he sings using his local accent and has come to prominence purely on the back of word of mouth and social media, his first album “Erratic Cinematic” funded via the PledgeMusic platform.
My friend’s daughter and her buddies were fans of Mr Cinnamon and I have no doubt, had things turned out differently, they would all have been heading to Hampden next summer to see him. For this reason, his song Belter was the one her family chose to accompany that wicker coffin leaving the church. A moment of levity amongst all the sadness. The song was apparently written about that moment at the start of a relationship when things can go either way, trying-to-be-cool and not wanting to let your guard down for fear of rejection, but your heart doing exactly what it wants to do. A realistic, tongue-in-cheek love song.
Belter by Gerry Cinnamon:
Sorry to have written yet another really sad post around here but this is the place where I can share my thoughts anonymously without the real world getting involved or having an opinion, so a great outlet really. As for Mr Cinnamon, he is very unhappy at how those tickets got sold to “corporate goons” just so quickly and are now appearing online at highly inflated prices. He also however realises that if the biggest bands in the world can’t stop it happening or do anything about it, he is likewise stymied.
I hope my friend and her family will be able to come to terms with what has happened in time, but it’s not going to be easy. Listening to the song shared here will never be the same again, that’s for sure, but it will certainly always hold a special place in their hearts.
Until next time….
Belter Lyrics (Song by Gerry Cinnamon)
She is a belter, different from the rest Diamonds oan’ her finger and she always looks her best She is a gangster, with a hundred-mile stare When she walks her feet don’t touch the flare
She is a belter
She plays wae’ lightning I’m a hundred miles high Dishing out the thunder like a god inside the sky She is a dancer and she dances in my dreams Reminds me that the world is not as evil as it seems
She is a belter
No happy endings; unless fairytales come true But she looks like a princess and there’s not much else to do I think I love her She gets underneath my skin But I’ve been stung a few times, so I don’t let no one in No even belters!
She is a belter She is a belter She is a belter
How can she reach me when I’m high above the shelf? Lost inside a smoke ring While I ponder tae’ myself Is she the answer, to the question in my mind? Is happiness an option, or has love just turned me blind?
Is she a belter?
No happy endings; unless fairytales come true But she looks like a princess and there’s not much else to do I think I love her She gets underneath my skin But I’ve been stung a few times, so I don’t let no one in No even belters
A couple of Saturdays ago I got up at the crack of dawn and caught the first train south to Edinburgh. An ex-flatmate from student days had recently been back in touch – inevitably via Facebook – and she was keen to have a bit of a reunion. As one of the other girls from the flat (we’ll always be girls however old we get) was coming up to Edinburgh for the Fringe Festival, a meet-up there seemed to make sense as the rest of us all still live in Scotland. As an aside, another thing that precipitated this reunion was that one of our number has recently been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease, which came as a massive shock to all of us. It’s too easy to put off these kind of reunions as it can be tricky finding dates that work for everyone, but this news certainly galvanised us into action, for obvious reasons.
There certainly was a lot going on in Edinburgh the Saturday I arrived at Waverley Station. We knew however that much of our time would be spent just catching up, as we hadn’t actually met up with the instigator of this reunion for 37 years. She’d left a year earlier than the rest of us to coincide with her student boyfriend’s departure, as he was a year older. They got married within 12 months, and wait for it, are still together! I suppose I shouldn’t be so shocked, but it just didn’t work out that way for the rest of us, so full of admiration for anyone who has gone the distance so to speak.
After the mid-morning coffee and the boozy lunch, it had been suggested we head along to the National Museum, as the much-publicised exhibition entitled Rip It Up, The Story of Scottish Pop was currently running. It certainly did chronicle the music we Scots have been responsible for inflicting on an unsuspecting nation (world?) over the last 60 years or so, taking us right back to Lonnie Donegan and ending up with the Chvrches by way of Lulu, The Rollers, Deacon Blue, the Soup Dragons and Franz Ferdinand to name but a few.
Only the previous week however I had finally caught up with all three episodes of the BBC 2 documentary series also called Rip It Up (link here), so I was already familiar with “the story” and had seen most of the audio-visual material used as part of the exhibition. Also, there was a strict no taking pictures policy in operation so that kind of ruined my chances of creating a blog post out of my visit (but I’m still going to try). What was great however was to see all that rock and pop memorabilia, donated both by fans and the pop sensations themselves, which had been pulled together for the exhibition.
My last blog post before this visit was as a result of having been set the challenge of writing about James Yorkston (link here) which is when I found out about Fence Records, set up by Kenny Anderson (aka King Creosote). One of the items on display was the actual fence used as inspiration for the artwork for Kenny’s album, still boldly displaying the words KC RULES OK.
Display cabinet with that very fence
There were of course an awful lot of guitars, records and sheet music filling up the glass cases but for me it was the clothes I enjoyed looking at most. Considering I was meandering around these displays with people I had shared a flat with in 1980/81, a few memories invariably came to mind. Both myself and the instigator of the reunion had been lucky enough to receive little black and white portable tellies from Santa that academic year, so from January 1981 onward we took turns in hosting the viewing of TOTP on Thursdays at 7.30pm. That was of course the era of New Romanticism and the charts were littered with acts who were very prone to dressing up in elaborate frills and falderals.
A band who will always be remembered for producing a highly pretentious, airy fairy video at that time was Ultravox, headed up by Scottish singer Midge Ure. The song it accompanied was of course Vienna, which became infamous for losing out on the UK Singles Chart’s top spot (for weeks on end) to an Australian called Joe Dolce with his novelty song Shaddap You Face. Along with many other iconic outfits in the exhibition, there was the very raincoat Midge wore for the video.
Vienna by Ultravox:
Other panels of interest contained a display of some of the many albums made by Scottish acts over the years – I can only identify a few of the less obvious ones, but I’m sure a fair few of the blogging buddies could identify many more. Some interesting snippets of info up there too – Did you know that in 1975, the Average White Band was the first Scottish band to get to No. 1 in both the US Singles and Album Charts simultaneously? No, me neither, but I do now courtesy of the exhibition.
Last stop was of course the gift shop, and although I didn’t actually buy this Bay City Rollers badge (because I already have one!), it was worthy of a picture. Plenty of nice new T-shirts on offer as well for those of us whose originals have perhaps seen better days (or perhaps that’s the point).
I will leave you with a link to the playlists of songs inspired by the exhibition – From Scottish pop classics to the tracks that mean the most to the people involved in creating the exhibition. Also, one last image, this time of the iconic outfit worn by Annie Lennox during her Eurythmics partnership with Dave Stewart. Considering our little reunion was the result of having once-upon-a-time shared a student flat in Aberdeen, where Annie was born and brought up, it would be fitting to include something by her. I used to find it quite amusing that during my decade of living in Aberdeen, just about every female I encountered had either been to school with her or knew her – Looking back, if you were 5 years older or 5 years younger you probably did attend school at the same time, but highly unlikely you will still be in touch. Just sayin’.
Here Comes The Rain Again by the Eurythmics:
So, “What’s It All About?” – First and foremost, if the chance comes up to reconnect with old friends, don’t keep putting it off as to my cost I have found that some of my old friendship groups are now reduced in number. Not something you really want to think about, but now that people are starting to retire, it should mean get-togethers are logistically a bit easier to organise, but it also means we are all getting older. Enough said.
As for the Rip It Up exhibition, it is on until November, and well worth a visit if you have any interest at all in the history of Scottish Pop. If like me you have already watched the Rip It Up documentary, there is a big overlap, but still lots of memorabilia to bring on a dose of nostalgia. We are used to our museum artefacts from ancient cultures presented to us in the form of pottery, jewellery and crafts. In the future, the artefacts attributed to our time on the planet will be vinyl, trousers with tartan down the sides and button badges. What will they make of us as a culture I wonder, in the year 3000AD?
Until next time…. , Shang-a-Lang!
Vienna Lyrics (Song by Warren Cann/Chris Cross/Billy Currie/Midge Ure)
Walked in the cold air Freezing breath on a window pane Lying and waiting A man in the dark in a picture frame So mystic and soulful A voice reaching out in a piercing cry It stays with you until
The feeling has gone only you and I It means nothing to me This means nothing to me Oh, Vienna
The music is weaving Haunting notes, pizzicato strings The rhythm is calling Alone in the night as the daylight brings A cool empty silence The warmth of your hand and a cold grey sky It fades to the distance
The image has gone only you and I It means nothing to me This means nothing to me Oh, Vienna
This means nothing to me This means nothing to me Oh, Vienna
A few weeks ago, I threw down the gauntlet and asked followers to come up with ideas for future posts. Whenever I’ve done this in the past it’s been quite easy to come up with something reasonably entertaining, as a fairly mainstream song has been suggested. This time…., not quite so easy. This third reply post was always going to be tricky, as I hadn’t actually heard of the artist or song when it was first suggested by Mr Medd, whose Are We There Yet? blog is one I visit often. My proviso for this challenge was that I had to have heard of the artist, so by rights I could have wriggled out of it, but that would be a bit lame so here goes:
Woozy With Cider by James Yorkston:
Woozy With Cider was recorded by singer/songwriter James Yorkston in 2007. It’s a spoken word kind of affair and apparently falls into the electronic/folk rock camp. As I said above, both James and his “song” were new to me, so before hitting the keyboard I was going to have to do a bit of serious listening. Lots of imagery in this song but what comes across loud and clear is that Mr Yorkston is neither a fan of big cities nor city folk and their sometimes patronising attitude towards those of a more countrified nature. He kind of yearns to be back in the place he feels most comfortable, “a village the size of a teacup”. There has been a wedding though (oh no, another wedding post – I can’t get away from them), which is the reason for the trip to the big smoke, but it is now the day after where there is time for reflection, relaxation and just enough cider to cause a bit of “wooziness”.
I really liked this spoken word song right from the off, and I think I worked out why pretty early on. Once I’d done a bit of research into James Yorkston, I discovered he came from the Kingdom of Fife in Scotland, which is a peninsula situated between the Firth of Tay and Firth of Forth (and home to the ancient Pictish kings). He became part of something called the Fence Collective set up by Kenny Anderson (aka King Creosote) where a group of Fife-based musicians got together and released music on their own record label with little more than a CD burner and the use of a local bar’s unused “back room”.
Looking at a map of Fife it looks remarkably like the Black Isle peninsula where I reside. From experience, these are beautiful places to live – Great scenery (water on three sides), picturesque villages, clean air and not too many people or cars. Like James, I would find life in a big city nowadays nigh impossible and find the best mix for me is kind of what is implied in the first line of the lyrics, “I hear you softly sleep amongst the cars and saluting songbirds”. It is now evening and the sound of the traffic has died down so the birds can be heard in equal measure. That’s my ideal – To be near enough civilisation to hear the sound of cars in the distance, but also to be able to hear the sound of birds (as I type I am listening to a hooting owl). It’s not for me the cacophony of city life with only the odd squawking seagull – I know where I’m supposed to “be” and like James Yorkston, I very fortuitously found it when I was relatively young, in my late twenties.
So, I only found out about James Yorkston when the suggestion for this post came in but since then I have been bombarded by references to Fife and Fence Records. There is a name for this phenomenon (more than just coincidence) which currently eludes me, but we all experience it from time to time – In our house, whenever it happens it’s always accompanied by a quick burst of the Twilight Zone music.
First of all, as per my previous post, we ended up having a spontaneous wee break last week in the city of Dundee, which is just on the other side of the Tay Bridge from Fife. It was a no brainer therefore that we would head across for a visit. By this time I knew all about the Fence Collective based in the East Neuk of Fife, so what better place to visit in order to get “woozy with cider”?
The East Neuk
Me getting woozy on cider!
Secondly, a couple of night’s ago I caught the final episode of the BBC2 documentary series Rip It Up which was ostensibly about how Scots have had to overcome obstacles, and blaze a trail, in order to make the music they love. This episode featured those independent labels such as Fence Records who decided to follow a different path and not head to London, but to remain in Scotland and be inspired by their surroundings – They would make music primarily for the love of it and not just to make lots of money. We even had a lengthy interview with Mr Yorkston (whom I warmed to greatly) and I’ll no doubt look out for him now that I know the background to his, and the Collective’s, aims.
Before I go, here is something I found when trying to find out a bit more about the man. It was from an interview he gave after having written his second book (yes it seems he’s multi-talented, also being an author – not jealous honest, grrr…).
Interviewer: James, what’s your guiltiest music pleasure?
James: I think I’ve grown out of that stuff now. When I was a kid, I was very much involved in genre, so I’d only like punk rock or dub reggae, say. Fortunately, as I’ve aged, I’ve thrown off such daft shackles and I no longer feel guilty about anything I like. I feel guiltier disliking things, especially if it’s music by people who I like as people. Guilty Music Displeasure, perhaps.
A great place to end, as since starting this blog I have had massive crises of confidence after writing about songs from my collection that others may well class as “a guilty pleasure”. I know everyone is usually very kind about it, but when James Yorkston also comes out and admits to now feeling more guilty about disliking music, I think I’m ok.
Until next time…
Woozy with Cider Lyrics
(Song by James Yorkston)
I watch the park quieten from the hotel window, I hear you softly sleep amongst the cars and saluting songbirds, For a city whose size had scared me for years right now it’s a feeble evening row, not un-similar to a beach evening ending. On the table to my left there’s a magazine with a picture of dead money, making a mockery of what I’d call art But what would I know about the scene in the city that has swallowed up friends lovers and family, Just give me a village the size of a teacup
You’re happier here spread out with your eyes closed, I feel I should order a drink in celebration to welcome the summer, whose first day is ending Should you wake you’d catch me of course and ask me the wisdom of drinking once more I cast my mind back to yesterdays wedding where we got drunk and fell over I did my best to be polite to a family I’d never met, but on numerous occasions, I guess, I could have tried harder Of course by the end of the night I was a best friend with everyone and every ones wife but right now I couldn’t remember their names no matter how hard I try
As the sun glares through the hotel window I wonder of our future and where it will lead to, I wonder if you’ll be laying there 10 years 20 years 30 years down the line I’ll still be staring out at the street confused about love and life, It’ll be interesting to see if anyone every bought those songs of mine if anyone heard those words that I never got quite right, I think I can be honest in presuming the world is not exactly going to be leaping out of its bed to make me rich using my songs in adverts selling oranges or lemons
Who knows I may end up owning the whole street, or more likely sleeping under tree in the park opposite Would the runners keep me awake or would I keep them asleep I’d hope I have the sense to move back home, as lovely as today is, I‘d imagine the winter would be rather cold
I’d been told for years that the devil had the best tunes and that the devil lived down here whereas us country folk weren’t worth the salt from the road Ex pat magazine editors who choose to loose their temper on the easily persuaded northern town dwellers And sure enough 99 percent of the people I meet have scant regard for entertaining me, it seems I’m too old too slow too quiet and just wrong And I’m glad. In their cocaine fuelled electronic cabarets I’ll be the man at the bar drinking overpriced whiskey from a bar maid who’s too good to catch my eye She only works here two nights a week, the rest of the time she’s a singer in a rock and roll band I bet she’d change her tune if I told her my album had peaked at number 172 and that I also had friends who worked in bars and that didn’t define who they are Though it certainly helps their capacity to drink.
But I’ve strayed off the subject Now I’ll be leaning over and waking you up, and you’ll squint at me through the cracks between your eyelids, woozy with cider As if you’re asking exactly where we are and exactly what I wanted. And I’ll be happy because we won’t be taking anything too seriously.
Well, I have a feeling this is going to be another one of my travelogue style posts but there will be a musical connection by the time I get to the end of it, I promise.
First of all, a word to the wise – If your other half decides to do a bit of browsing on your computer, forewarn them you might have set up a faster payment method on some sites, otherwise you could end up seriously out of pocket. This happened to me a fortnight ago. We didn’t really have any holiday plans for this summer, but I had mentioned I would quite like to visit the Scottish city of Dundee at some point as with the new V&A about to open, along with all the other established attractions, it does seem to be a city on the up. So, whilst I was busy watching some very worthy television (not Love Island, honest…), unbeknownst to me Mr WIAA started to scour Airbnb for accommodation in Dundee. He liked the look of one particular apartment in a converted grand old house on the Perth Road, and tested the booking system to find out its availability. Quick as a flash they came back and said yes, it was available the following week, and the payment promptly came off my account.
It was at this point he decided (very sheepishly) to tell me what he had done – “A lavish apartment…, in Dundee…, next week…,” said I, dubiously. In a former life this would have been a lovely idea, but with a business we run from home and an elderly parent to look after, not easy nowadays to take off on spontaneous jaunts. “But it’s ok”, he said, “you can ask for a refund within 48 hours if you change your mind.” Turns out you only get a refund if the trip is at least 14 days away – Looked as if we were heading to Dundee!
Suffice to say, we quickly got everything organised and had a lovely five days last week in that city famous for it’s Jam, Jute and Journalism. Despite being Scottish I had never really visited Dundee properly before, having just passed through or dropped in for a work-related meeting or course, so it turned out to be a really great trip. Like most urban areas with an industrial past, it’s inner city has seen better and more vibrant days, but it’s a city that is reinventing itself with technology parks (home to the computer games industry), visitor attractions (Captain Scott’s Discovery), arts venues (Dundee Rep, the new V&A) and education (it has two universities and many colleges) now the main source of revenue.
For me however, Dundee will always be synonymous with DC Thomson, that long-established publisher responsible for supplying our house with newspapers and magazines when I was growing up. Most homes like mine would have got the Sunday Post (complete with the Oor Wullie and Broons comic strips) and my mum also subscribed to the People’s Friend (the oldest women’s weekly in the world). I could look forward to The Bunty as a pre-teen, and then best of all, Jackie Magazine (link to a previous post) as a teenager. Had I been a boy I would have no doubt relished the antics of Dennis the Menace in The Beano and Desperate Dan in The Dandy but as a bit of a “girly girl” I preferred The Bunty, because of the dressing doll that came on the back page every week. I saw yesterday that The Beano was celebrating it’s 60th birthday and possibly because of that there is currently a big exhibition in Dundee’s very central Art Gallery and Museum, The McManus (aptly renamed The McMenace for the duration).
Who ate all the cow pies?
Oor Wullie and his bucket
But this is supposed to be a music blog and when in Dundee I of course thought of all the bands of my youth who came from there. A couple of summer’s ago I wrote a series of posts focusing on the sheer number of great bands who came out of Scotland in the late ’80s. One was Deacon Blue (my sister-in-law went to school with Ricky Ross) and another Danny Wilson (click links to those posts), both bands from Dundee. As they have featured here previously however, I won’t look to them for this post’s song choice – No, the artist who came to mind was the unforgettable Billy MacKenzie of the Associates whose Party Fears Two reached No. 9 in the UK Singles Chart in 1982.
Billy had a distinctive high tenor voice and dressed like a member of the French Resistance (or Frank Spencer depending on your take) so was memorable in the annals of pop, but like so many around him he died young, after committing suicide in 1997 at the age of 39. I always knew Billy was born and brought up in Dundee, but didn’t realise that he had decamped first to New Zealand at the age of 16 and then to America at 17. Billy got married to his aunt’s sister-in-law whilst over there in order to stave off deportation, but returned home after 3 months of marriage, never to see his bride again. It was then that he met Alan Rankine and the pair went on to form the Associates.
Party Fears Two by the Associates:
It’s certainly a strange title for a song and tricky to understand the lyrics other than that a party is involved. Billy did explain the origin however, “My wee brother was at a party watching two girls who wanted to come in. They were smashing windows and attempting to kick the door in with their stiletto heels, which he admired, so he christened them the Party Fears Two and I pinched the title from him.”
Hmm…, that doesn’t say a lot for the calibre of young lady who would have been attending parties in Dundee in the late ’70s/early ’80s, but here’s the thing, parties amongst young people in those days were not soirees involving sociable chit chat and fine wines, it was simply that someone had a venue, and others found out about it. The Scottish stand-up comedian Kevin Bridges sums up nicely the difference between the parties held in American teen movies and the parties the youth of Scotland were more familiar with, and if you watch this clip you’ll probably get a better idea of the “Party Fears Two”. They are probably middle-aged ladies now – I wonder if they ever found out the song was about them?
So, “What’s It All About?” – Sometimes the best trips are the spontaneous ones that come along without much pre-planning or thought. My trip to Dundee was one of those and I have another couple of posts up my sleeve inspired by the place. The V&A Dundee is to open on the 15th September and they obviously expect lots of visitors as many hotels are springing up in the vicinity. The very modern railway station is also situated just across the road. After never having been to Dundee as a tourist before, it seems I might well end up visiting twice this year – To be thoroughly recommended.
Until next time…
Party Fears Two Lyrics (Song by Billy MacKenzie/Alan Rankine)
I’ll have a shower and then phone my brother up Within the hour I’ll smash another cup Please don’t start saying that or I’ll start believing you If I start believing you I’ll know that this party fears two
And what if this party fears two? The alcohol loves you while turning you blue View it from here from closer to near Awake me
Don’t turn around I won’t have to look at you And what’s not found is all that I see in you My manners are failing me I’m left feeling ugly And you say it’s wonderful to live with I never will
So what if this party fears two? The alcohol loves you while turning you blue View it from here from closer to near Awake me
I’m standing still and you say I dress to well Still standing still I might but it’s hard to tell Even a slight remark makes nonsense and turns to shark Have I done something wrong? What wrongs the wrong that’s always in wrong
I’ll have a shower And then phone my brother up Within the hour I’ll smash another cup
One last picture from the exhibition at the McManus – Book titles courtesy of The Bash Street Kids. Every one a winner!
Tuesday seems to have become my default day for posting something new, however with all this fine weather I haven’t been spending much time on the computer, or pondering blog ideas. Hmm…
Time to resort to the dash cam!
Last Saturday Mr WIAA and myself headed down the A9 to The Cairngorms as only 45 minutes from home and a great place to visit on a beautiful sunny day. Yes – unbelievably – Scotland is also experiencing this very uncharacteristic heatwave that seems to be sweeping the country. The film I took was hard won I can tell you, as every few minutes the device over-heated and had to be slotted into the car’s air-conditioning vent to cool down. I have however managed to piece together the following and when asked what music might be appropriate for it, Mr WIAA suggested In A Big Country by who else but Big Country.
In A Big Country by Big Country:
Big Country formed in Dunfermline in 1981 and had their heyday in the mid ’80s. The band had a very distinctive music style which involved engineering their guitar sound to evoke the spirit of bagpipes, fiddles and other traditional folk instruments. In A Big Country was released in May 1983 as the third single from their debut studio album “The Crossing”, and reached No. 17 in the UK Singles Chart. The album was a hit in the United States which is how my friend Rich from Kamer Tunes Blog must have come to know about them and how they became his favourite band during his high school years (I know this because he has mentioned it often). He is on hiatus at the moment but because of his great affinity with Scotland, here are a few more pictures taken whilst out and about recently, just in case he drops by.
It actually rained today, for the first time in about five weeks. Can it really carry on like this for much longer? Who knows, but with all the political shenanigans going on right now, it’s nice to be able to just chill out under the shade of a tree. Scotland may not in reality be a “big” country, in fact it’s really quite small, but it has a big heart which was what those boys from Big Country capitalised on back in the ’80s.
Until next time enjoy the sunshine, and remember that even in Scotland, we still need to wear sunscreen. I can’t turn the clock back and tell my teenage self of the dangers of too much sun (let’s face it we all got burnt every single year) but a bit older and wiser now fortunately. Cross fingers it’s shaping up to be another Summer of ’76!
In A Big Country Lyrics (Song by Stuart Adamson/Mark Brzezicki/Tony Butler/Bruce Watson)
I’ve never seen you look like this without a reason Another promise fallen through, another season passes by you I never took the smile away from anybody’s face And that’s a desperate way to look for someone who is still a child
In a big country, dreams stay with you Like a lover’s voice fires the mountainside Stay alive
I thought that pain and truth were things that really mattered But you can’t stay here with every single hope you had shattered I’m not expecting to grow flowers in a desert But I can live and breathe and see the sun in wintertime
In a big country, dreams stay with you Like a lover’s voice fires the mountainside Stay alive
In a big country, dreams stay with you Like a lover’s voice fires the mountainside Stay alive
So take that look out of here, it doesn’t fit you Because it’s happened doesn’t mean you’ve been discarded Pull up your head off the floor, come up screaming Cry out for everything you ever might have wanted I thought that pain and truth were things that really mattered But you can’t stay here with every single hope you had shattered
I’m not expecting to grow flowers in a desert But I can live and breathe and see the sun in wintertime
In a big country, dreams stay with you Like a lover’s voice fires the mountainside Stay alive
In a big country, dreams stay with you Like a lover’s voice fires the mountainside Stay alive
It may be a small country but Scotland extends a bit wider in all directions courtesy of the many islands off its coasts. One of these is South Uist, the second largest island of the Outer Hebrides, and I couldn’t help but gasp in wonder at the pictures shared recently by a friend after a visit. She grew up there and those beaches used to be her childhood playground. Spectacular, and barely a soul in sight.
A couple of months ago, I was finally coerced into writing about my teenage relationship with the Bay City Rollers, and had a fond couple of days revisiting some of the memorabilia (unbelievably) still in my possession. When looking back, it became apparent there would have been no BCRs had founder member Alan Longmuir, along with his brother Derek, not persevered and pestered until they found success. He was definitely the shyest of the bunch however, and at times found it tough being the oldest member of what we now would call a “boy band”. I was sad therefore to hear it announced today that Alan has died in hospital aged only 70 – The first of the Rollers to leave us.
They were ill-equipped in the early ’70s to cope with the kind of international success they achieved and it is well known they ended up with little of the vast riches that must have accrued from the tours and sale of albums. As for Alan, that didn’t seem to faze him, and humble until the end he used to tell friends and family – “I was just a plumber from Edinburgh who got lucky.” RIP Alan Longmuir.
Welcome to this occasional series where I share the contents of my archive box of teenage memorabilia. I always knew these random bits and pieces would come in handy some day, but little did I think back in the 1970s that they would find their way onto such a thing as a “blog”, courtesy of that as yet unthought of invention, the world wide web!
I’ve been threatening to write this post for a while, and it seems the time is right, coming at the end of a trilogy of posts inspired by my recent trip to Edinburgh. On our last day there we met some friends in an area of the city called The Meadows, a large green space near the Old Town. Bordering the Meadows is a large building which I discovered was Edinburgh’s Royal Infirmary, however in days gone by it was called Simpson’s Hospital. And why…