An American Odyssey in Song: Maine – Roger Miller and “King of the Road”

Welcome to this occasional series where I am attempting a virtual journey around the 50 States of America in song. For anyone new to this place, I have a continuous route map where I enter and leave each state only once. Suggestions for the next leg always welcome!

First of all thanks to everyone who helped out with suggestions for getting this trip started. It may not happen in real life now (although never say never and all that), but I’m going to try and make sure it happens on these pages. I have planned a route map that means we take in all 50 states but never enter and leave the same one more than once. I won’t share the map with you until the end however as best to retain an element of surprise as to where we are going to end up next (although sometimes of course there will be only one contender).

After a bit of thought I have decided to start in Maine and end up in Florida as opposed to doing it the other way round. North to South makes more sense from a geographical point of view and we will build up to all those great songs from the Southern States gradually.

maine 3

So, we have just flown across the Atlantic from Scotland and are about to explore the State of Maine. This is not going to be a travelogue style series of posts so I will just include a few pictures and links, but suffice to say, Maine is the most northernmost state in New England, it has an awful lot of forests and coastline, its climate is warm and humid in summer but cold and snowy in winter, and it’s famous for its seafood cuisine, especially lobster and clams. The musical Carousel is set in Maine (songs from which I have written about twice on these pages here and here) and of course a certain amateur lady detective also resides there, in the fictitious Cabot Cove (the American equivalent of our Midsomer it seems). The prolific author Stephen King comes from Maine and many of his books, in turn made into films, are set in that State (Carrie, The Shawshank Redemption and the film that forever gave clowns a bad rap, It).

When I first considered this series, I was a bit troubled that I might sometimes get stuck, and be unable to find songs that I could write about for certain states, but of course you didn’t let me down. A fair few suggestions came in from Marie, CC, Lynchie, Rol, Neil and Chris (links to their blogs on my sidebar) but the song I hadn’t realised even mentioned Maine before, was King Of The Road by Roger Miller (credit for that one goes to both Lynchie and Rol). This song is all about the day-to-day life of a hobo, who, despite being poor (a man of means by no means) revels in his freedom, describing himself as the “king of the road”. The first line in the second verse goes as follows, “Third boxcar, midnight train, destination, Bangor, Maine” which is why it becomes my first featured song in this series.

Roger himself of course didn’t come from Maine but from Texas. He wrote mainly country songs, and was very successful at doing so, but King Of The Road was a major crossover hit into mainstream pop and was No.1 in the UK Singles Chart in 1965.

King Of The Road by Roger Miller:

As is often the case I would be lying if I said that I remembered this song from first time around, but someone who would have done, was my Uncle Keith. This is where it gets a bit personal as is often wont to happen on these pages. Keith was a lad who grew up in our village in Scotland and followed the usual path for young men in those days – Went to school, completed an apprenticeship, met a girl, got married and had a family. The opportunity came along for him to move to the city and start driving lorries long distances. With a large family to support he took it on. Soon he was travelling all over the UK and the Continent, gone from home for long periods at a time. He loved it and whenever anyone was going on holiday by car, he could always be relied upon to come with the best route.

(Uncle Keith is the tall dark-haired chap)

This life on the road was not of course conducive to family life and in due course his marriage failed and we didn’t see much of him for long stretches of time. Every now and again he would turn up at my grandparents house in a massive articulated lorry, stay the night, then head off again. He was very unlike my own very stable, home-loving dad and was a bit of a mythical creature as I was growing up. As I got older I was busy getting on with my own life so didn’t see him often at all, but a few years ago now we heard he was ill, so my mum headed off to see him in his little flat. It wasn’t good and he died soon after at the age of 76 with, ironically, his ex-wife and his children at his bedside – He may not have been a great family man but they had stayed close over the years and loved him to the end.

When it came to organising the funeral it turned out he wanted to be buried along with his parents (my grandparents) in the village where he had grown up. A bit of a surprise but it made sense. The important thing was that he wanted King Of The Road to be played as his coffin was carried out of the church. My mum (his sister), who finds it very important to always “do the right thing”, was a bit concerned – In her experience people always chose very sombre hymns – What would people think? But no, his family stood firm and King Of The Road it was. When the time came there wasn’t a dry eye in the church and even my mum had to admit it was the right choice.


Before I go, it might be an idea to include the version by those very Scottish Proclaimers from 1990. If he was still driving lorries at that time maybe Uncle Keith liked that one too. Whatever, I am pretty sure if the chance had come up, he would have loved driving across the highways and byways of America in one of those very large trucks, maybe even up as far as Maine. This post therefore is for him. (Look out for The Proclaimers’ homage to Roger Miller at 2:20)

“What’s It All About?” – I have often seen talk on the blogosphere of the music people would like to have played at their funeral (morbid I know but true) and I too have chosen my particular song. We may not be there in person but we will be leaving a little bit of ourselves behind in our choices. Those left will feel a surge of emotion, but it will be much appreciated, as was the case with Uncle Keith.

So, we have now visited Maine in song (very tenuously I know but I think that’s how it will often go) and the next state we will cross into is New Hampshire. I will always have a standby song but would very much appreciate some more suggestions that I have no doubt (if this post is anything to go by), will be better than mine. You know where the comments boxes are.

Until next time….

King Of The Road Lyrics
(Song by Roger Miller)

Trailer for sale or rent, rooms to let, fifty cents.
No phone, no pool, no pets, I ain’t got no cigarettes
Ah, but, two hours of pushin’ broom
Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room
I’m a man of means by no means, king of the road.

Third boxcar, midnight train, destination, Bangor, Maine.
Old worn out clothes and shoes,
I don’t pay no union dues,
I smoke old stogies I have found short, but not too big around
I’m a man of means by no means, king of the road.

I know every engineer on every train
All of their children, and all of their names
And every handout in every town
And every lock that ain’t locked, when no one’s around.

I sing, trailers for sale or rent, rooms to let, fifty cents
No phone, no pool, no pets, I ain’t got no cigarettes
Ah, but, two hours of pushin’ broom
Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room
I’m a man of means by no means, king of the road.

Trailers for sale or rent, rooms to let, fifty cents
No phone, no pool, no pets, I ain’t got no cigarettes
Ah, but, two hours of pushin’ broom
Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room
I’m a man of means by no means, king of the road.

The Proclaimers, “Letter From America” and Sunshine on Leith (the movie)

Last night we watched the film of the stage show Sunshine on Leith on DVD – Not as good as when viewed at the cinema but still really enjoyed all that great music from The Proclaimers. I think the popularity of the jukebox musical really hit new heights when Mama Mia!, featuring the songs of Abba hit the West End stage in 1999 so it was inevitable that such productions would become a staple of theatreland. The music of many an artist has now been set to scripts capable of stringing together, in an entertaining fashion, the various back catalogues.

Sunshine on Leith was originally written for Dundee Rep in 2007 and I remember going to see it when it came to the Highlands soon after. Unlike Mama Mia!, it was not set in a sunny location but in an often wet and drizzly Edinburgh. The film didn’t have A-list Hollywood stars in it either but it did have heart, and some very acceptable singing voices. One of the main stars of the film was actually Edinburgh itself and they managed to cram in as many great locations as possible. (If you know the city well you do ask yourself, “Why would they use that particular route to get from Leith to Waverley” but of course it was obvious why.)

I have mentioned Sunshine on Leith before in the blog when I wrote about the song of the same name (can be found here) and how it has been adopted by Hibs fans as their anthem. Having possibly heard that song just once too often now, the one that made more of an impact when watching the film last night, was Letter From America.

Letter From America by The Proclaimers:

Any regulars to this blog will know that we have a close family member far from home at the moment, in the great state of Illinois, birthplace of Abe Lincoln but also Ferris Beuller and Wayne from Wayne’s World! A very relevant song therefore, but as it turns out, letters are more likely to be substituted by Facetime (a lot of Facetime) nowadays so compared with the Scots in the song, the America we travel to now doesn’t seem nearly as far away. The scriptwriters for the show manage to (tenuously) incorporate the song by having one of the main characters, a nurse, get a job in a Miami hospital via an online recruitment site.


Very different to the stories that led the folks in the song to America, and quite rightly it is very hard “to imagine the way they felt the day they sailed from Wester Ross to Nova Scotia” as for many, they would probably never see home again. Even in my own family, emigration to America at the turn of the 20th century was prolific. My grandfather was brought up by his grandparents as his father went across first (a result of a lack of employment in the area) and then his mother joined him later. I would imagine the plan was to come back for my grandfather at some point, but possibly for economic reasons that didn’t happen, and they never saw each other again – Seems sad nowadays considering how small the world can be for us now but I cannot emphasise enough how it would not have seemed that way in the late 1800s. My grandfather didn’t ever make the big journey across the pond but had a fine life in rural Scotland as part of a large family and had the distinction of driving/handling/operating (not sure what you call it) the first combine harvester in the North-East. Yes the crowds came out in droves that day to see it in action, and now in the local archives.


As for The Proclaimers, they were actually “discovered” by one of hubby’s boyhood friends, as they used to travel north to play in a local bar. The friend, already in the music business himself, wrote (no Facetime in those days) to The Housemartins suggesting they use them as the support act for their 1986 tour – They did, and the rest as they say is history. I actually saw them on that tour, and although we had predominantly gone along to see The Housemartins, we were pretty much bowled over by the very distinctive, bespectacled Reid twins from Auchtermuchty.

As for me, after watching the film again last night I have added “be part of a flash mob” to my bucket list. Not managed so far but that massed “mob” dance, right in the centre of Edinburgh’s Princes Street, looked like great fun – Wish I’d been on the top deck of the No. 17 bus the day they were filming that one!

Letter From America Lyrics
(Song by Craig Reid/Charlie Reid)

When you go will you send back
A letter from America?
Take a look up the railtrack
From Miami to Canada
Broke off from my work the other day
I spent the evening thinking about
All the blood that flowed away
Across the ocean to the second chance
I wonder how it got on when it reached the promised land?

When you go will you send back
A letter from America?
Take a look up the railtrack
From Miami to Canada

I’ve looked at the ocean
Tried hard to imagine
The way you felt the day you sailed
From Wester Ross to Nova Scotia
We should have held you
We should have told you
But you know our sense of timing
We always wait too long

When you go will you send back
A letter from America?
Take a look up the railtrack
From Miami to Canada

Lochaber no more
Sutherland no more
Lewis no more
Skye no more

I wonder my blood
Will you ever return
To help us kick the life back
To a dying mutual friend
Do we not love her?
I think we all claim we love her
Do we have to roam the world
To prove how much it hurts?

When you go will you send back
A letter from America?
Take a look up the railtrack
From Miami to Canada

Bathgate no more
Linwood no more
Methil no more
Irvine no more

Bathgate no more
Linwood no more
Methil no more
Lochaber no more


Some people inherit money and some inherit good genes.  After my dad’s death I inherited begonia corms! These corms have passed down the generations and can’t be purchased in garden centres nowadays but continually reproduce every year. I have about ten tubs of beautiful red flowers in my garden every summer and I would like to think that all across America there may be similar gardens, as my forefathers may have taken with them a small knobbly corm, as a reminder of home.

267 4th Aug PICT3574.JPG

Hue and Cry, “Labour of Love” and Yet More Late ’80s Scottish Bands

Getting back to my theme of great Scottish bands from the late 1980s, I can’t omit that duo from Coatbridge, brothers Pat and Greg Kane from Hue and Cry. Their second single release was Labour of Love which reached No. 6 in the UK Singles Chart in June 1987. Like Danny Wilson whom I wrote about the other day, their music was of a sophisti-pop persuasion but as anyone reading this blog will have come to realise, these labels baffle me and as a non-musician myself, my relationship with the songs I write about is quite simple – Do I like what I hear, how do they make me feel and would I like to listen to more? With Labour of Love the answers were quite straightforward – Yes I liked what I heard, I felt perhaps “energised” by it and yes I definitely wanted to hear more from them.

Labour of Love by Hue and Cry:

As it turned out with Hue and Cry, the chance came quite soon to see them live. In 1988 they embarked on a tour that included, wait for it, the small Ross-shire town of Dingwall. Now back in those days, the Highlands of Scotland hadn’t quite caught up with the rest of the country when it came to venues for socialising. Although the big cities had vast nightclubs with sophisticated sound/lighting systems and those dancefloors with the flashing squares (as showcased by John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever), in the Highlands we had revamped hotel function suites, cinemas and dance halls. To be honest this was a bit of a godsend for me when I came to live here as if a particular record made me want to dance, that is exactly what I did and the gentrified nightclubs of the big cities did not provide enough space for my kind of dancing. (Yes many a night out was ruined for my friends as I apparently “put boys off” wanting to dance with us!)

Dance hall

And so it came to pass that Jings (seriously) nightclub in Dingwall, which had been a cinema back in the day, became quite the venue for bands touring the country. With a stage, a vast area for fans to watch from, and a small bar at the far end, it was very definitely part of the circuit. I loved my night of watching Hue and Cry perform there and by 1988 they had quite a repertoire of familiar songs to entertain us with.

hue and cry

A bit of trivia about the song – In 1987 they were asked to perform it at short notice on TOTP when the American band Los Lobos had a mix-up with their visa applications. As anyone who remembers that era will know, a slot on TOTP practically guaranteed chart success and indeed it was fortuitous that the song “La Bamba” didn’t make it onto the show that Thursday.

Of course at the time I hadn’t realised that the lyrics of the song were written from the perspective of a working-class Tory voter of the mid-1980s who had tried to believe in Margaret Thatcher’s new Britain but was now realising that there was “too much pain for too little gain” in doing so. Not surprised that the lyrics were of a political persuasion however as Pat Kane himself has gone on to be a political commentator and makes frequent appearances on Scottish current affairs television programmes. He now writes for the The National and The Guardian and was one of the founding editors of the Sunday Herald. Like many of his generation, and like my own dear husband, he is also now bald as a coot so I had to do a bit of a double-take when I saw him on television recently. In my head I still see him as that young man on stage in Ross-shire in the late ’80s, but then again I think we are all still in our twenties in our heads, it’s just when you catch yourself in a shop window, see yourself in a photograph or try to replicate old dance moves that reality kicks in.

Anyway, three Scottish bands showcased in five days so definitely time to move onto a new thread and I’ll have a think about that one over the next few days. Barring another shock death in this, the year of obituaries, inspiration could come from absolutely anywhere…..

Labour of Love Lyrics
(Song by Pat Kane/Greg Kane)

You said, you recall about seven years ago now
You said, that you we’re so tough
And I loved it, oh
Loved you for putting me down in a totally new way
Down with, the bad old, sad old days
(Get away now)
But now, too much pain for too little gain
And I feel like I’m gonna strike back right now

Gonna withdraw my labour of love
Gonna strike for the right to get into your heart, yeah
Withdraw my labour of love
Gonna strike for the right to get into your cold heart
Ain’t gonna work for you no more
Ain’t gonna work, for you no more

Ha, easy, I noticed you said it never was gonna be easy
But not this hard
You’re so cold, so cold
The romance goes when the promises break
My mistake was to love you a little too much

Gonna withdraw my labour of love
Gonna strike for the right to get into your heart, yeah
Withdraw my labour of love
Gonna strike for the right to get into your heart, baby now
Withdraw my labour of love

I can’t stand it, I said I just don’t want it
Never gonna need it, anyway yeah
I can’t stand it, I said I just don’t want it
Never gonna need it, anyway
I don’t want you, I don’t need you
I don’t need your tricks and treats
I don’t need your ministration, your bad determination
I’ve had enough of you, and your super-bad crew
I don’t need your, I don’t need your
Pseudo-satisfaction baby
I can’t stand it, I said I just don’t want it
Never gonna need it, anyway yeah
I can’t stand it, I don’t want it
I don’t need your pseudo-satisfaction baby

Danny Wilson, “Mary’s Prayer” and More Late ’80s Scottish Bands

Following on from my post yesterday about Deacon Blue and how the late ’80s were a very fertile period for bands hailing from north of the border, today’s featured song is one of my all-time favourites – Mary’s Prayer by Danny Wilson which reached No.3 in the UK Singles Chart in 1988. Like Ricky Ross of Deacon Blue, the band Danny Wilson were from the great city of Dundee (famed for Jam, Jute and J…. Jackie Magazine!). Ironically this record might not have come about at all if not for the fact that founder member Gary Clark decided to return home to Dundee from London, after quite sensibly noticing that bands from his neck of the woods were really starting to get noticed by talent scouts and journalists.

Mary’s Prayer by Danny Wilson:

Apparently their brand of pop music is a sub-genre, called sophisti-pop, which includes highly polished arrangements, makes use of keyboards & synthesizers and is influenced by soul and jazz. Whatever it is (and I am truly becoming troubled by the myriad of sub-genres out there), it was fantastic to listen to and I ended up buying their first album called “Meet Danny Wilson”. On it were some very localised songs telling tales of happenings in the places I had lived, and knew so well. I am pretty sure Gary Clark’s brother and fellow band mate Kit was with me at University, but as is wont to happen, it is difficult in later life to remember what they were like back then.

danny wilson

So, I had come to live in the Highlands and suddenly all these great bands were emerging from Scotland. Fortunately for us they were more than happy to tour the north of the country, even the Highlands, so we got to see quite a few live in concert. This is a terrible admission as I pride myself on having a good memory for happenings back in the day but unlike the fine detail I remember from the early ’70s when I was a young teenager, in the late ’80s I was in my twenties and perhaps because alcohol now played a part in my social life, I cannot quite remember which of these bands I did see live. I have racked my brain however and am pretty sure I saw Deacon Blue perform at our local ice centre where the rink used to be covered with temporary flooring for events such as concerts. Still very troubling for the tootsies though if you hadn’t worn the appropriate footwear.

Sadly I never did see Danny Wilson perform live and they had quite a short lifespan as a band before calling it a day and going on to other things. Gary Clark went on to be a prolific writer of songs for some of the biggest artists of the ’90s but after living in London and Los Angeles for some time he has recently returned home to Dundee. Ged Grimes, the third member of the band, is currently the bass player with Simple Minds but has also in the past, played with Deacon Blue.

Before I finish, a little bit of trivia about the band name – They were just about to release their first album under the name Spencer Tracy when there was an objection from the late film star’s estate. To avoid any unpleasant legal wrangling they had to quickly think of another name and that turned out to be from the title of a Frank Sinatra film called Meet Danny Wilson. (Stuck with the film theme though and also the slightly confusing singular name, whereas in reality a band of three people.)

Danny Wilson film

This was supposed to be a week where I revisited my favourite tracks from that great late ’80s era of Scottish bands and already, on day two, I have doubled back to Deacon Blue via Danny Wilson – Plenty of material to choose from however, that’s for sure, so will find another band with ease but always open to suggestions if you have one?

Mary’s Prayer Lyrics
(Song by Gary Clark)

Everything is wonderful,
Being here is heavenly
Every single day she sends,
Everything is free
I used to be so careless,
As if I couldn’t care less
Did I have to make mistakes,
When I was Mary’s prayer?

Suddenly the heavens rolled,
Suddenly the rain came down
Suddenly was washed away,
The Mary that I knew
So when you find somebody you keep,
Think of me and celebrate
I made such a big mistake,
When I was Mary’s Prayer

So if I say, save me, save me,
Be the light in my eyes
And if I say, ten Hail Mary’s,
Leave a light on in heaven for me

Blessed is the one who shares,
Your power and your beauty, Mary
Blessed is the millionaire,
Who shares your wedding day
So when you find somebody you keep,
Think of me and celebrate
I made such a big mistake,
When I was Mary’s Prayer

Deacon Blue, “Dignity” and Late ’80s Scottish Bands (there were a lot of them!)

Short post but still thinking fondly of my recent “staycation” and the song Dignity by Deacon Blue came to mind. The late ’80s were a very fertile time for bands from Scotland and the charts were littered with their successes. Deacon Blue released their first album “Raintown” in 1987, the week I came to live in the Highlands, and possibly because I suddenly felt the strength of my Scottishness more (coming to live in a place where tourism is one of the main industries), it was a great time to have all this great music around. There were also the bands Hue and Cry, Texas, Aztec Camera, Primal Scream, Big Country, Wet Wet Wet, Hipsway, Danny Wilson, Fairground Attraction and of course Runrig whom I have written about before.


Ever since starting the blog, I have come across these instances where suddenly there is a new “fashion” (for want of a better word) in music and sometimes it comes from a particular venue (Cavern Club in Liverpool, Blitz Nightclub in Covent Garden), sometimes as a reaction to what has gone before (punk, ska) and at other times from a particular label or producer (2 Tone, Phil Spector). I know “fashion” isn’t the right word for it but neither is zeitgeist or the bandwagon or halo effects. If anyone can help me out here please do, but whatever the correct word for it is, Scotland had it in bucketloads in the late ’80s.

Looking back, I can’t believe that the song Dignity only got to No. 31 in the UK charts as it is the song that is still most closely associated with them and is usually the one they finish any concert with. They even sang it at the Commonwealth Games closing ceremony in Glasgow in 2014. Listening to the lyrics again, I think we all suspect we know of someone like the character in the song. The mild-mannered council worker who despite his low grade job and very simple lifestyle (love the reference to the Sunblest bag – no artisan bread for this guy) has a dream that once he has saved enough money, he will head off in his dinghy and be permanently “on his holidays” leaving the rest of us stuck in the nine to five. Having gone back to work this week after my holiday, the thought of a life “sailing up the west coast, through villages and towns” is suddenly very appealing but sadly I think I’ll need a few more years of putting “money in my kitty” before that can happen.

Dignity by Deacon Blue:

I love the whole idea behind the theory of six degrees of separation but Scotland being quite small, there are more likely to be only two degrees of separation here. Donnie Munro from Runrig taught my husband Art at school, I have several friends who were at University with people in the bands mentioned above and my own sister-in-law went to school in Dundee with Deacon Blue frontman and songwriter Ricky Ross!

So many great bands to write about so I will keep this post short but stick to the theme over the course of the week. Already excited about all those great songs, ripe for being revisited!

Dignity Lyrics
(Song by Ricky Ross)

There’s a man I meet walks up our street
He’s a worker for the council
Has been twenty years
And he takes no lip off nobody
And litter off the gutter
Puts it in a bag
And never seems to mutter
And he packs his lunch in a Sunblest bag
The children call him bogie
He never lets on
But I know ’cause he once told me
He let me know a secret about the money in his kitty
He’s gonna buy a dinghy
Gonna call her dignity

And I’ll sail her up the west coast
Through villages and towns
I’ll be on my holidays
They’ll be doing their rounds
They’ll ask me how I got her I’ll say I saved my money
They’ll say isn’t she pretty that ship called dignity

And I’m telling this story
In a faraway scene
Sipping down raki
And reading Maynard Keynes
And I’m thinking about home and all that means
And a place in the winter for dignity
And I’ll sail her up the west coast
Through villages and towns
I’ll be on my holidays
They’ll be doing their rounds
They’ll ask me how I got her I’ll say I saved my money
They’ll say isn’t she pretty that ship called dignity

And I’m thinking about home
And I’m thinking about faith
And I’m thinking about work
And I’m thinking about how good it would be
To be here some day

Celtic Rock, Runrig and “Loch Lomond”

Last time I wrote about George Martin and of his legacy in assisting The Beatles and all those other great Liverpudlian bands and artists achieve great things in the 1960s.  Before that however, the thread I had been following was concerned with artists who are very much identified with their “place” in the world.

Anyone who has read my posts will have worked out by now that I come from the North of Scotland and although my childhood was rural, I have since lived in both of the big(ish) cities up here. You would have thought that the tracks of my years might have been very different to those of someone who has lived all their life in, say, Norfolk or Manchester but no, we pretty much all listen to the same radio stations, watch the same television shows/films and now have access to everything that the world wide web can throw at us.

It was not until I arrived in the Highlands however that I really started to appreciate some of the great Celtic rock bands that hail from this neck of the woods. In 1987, the band always guaranteed to sell out any concert was Runrig, orginally from the Isle of Skye. Their lead singer Donnie Munro had taught my husband art at school in the ’70s, but by the late ’80s he was very much a full-time musician. When he’d told the class he was involved with a band, and that they played a kind of Gaelic/Celtic rock, the class were highly sceptical (this was the decade of glam rock, punk and disco after all) but he certainly proved them all wrong. In the period 1987-1997 they were signed to Chrysalis and released five very successful studio albums. I remember buying “The Cutter And The Clan” in 1987 not long after arriving in the Highlands and I saw them perform three times in a short space of time at various venues, including a large marquee during a memorable homecoming trip to Skye.


I really don’t know how familiar they would have been to audiences in the rest of the country but they did enter the charts several times during that period so did achieve mainstream success despite the fact they were very much of their “place”, the Gaelic-speaking Isle of Skye.

In 1991, they released an EP which of course I bought, along with the rest of the population of the Highlands. The main song on the EP was Hearthammer but on the B-side was Loch Lomond (really gets going after 3:00), a traditional song given the full-blown Celtic rock treatment.

Although Loch Lomond itself is north of Glasgow and not really closely connected to Runrig’s place in the world, it is a rousing song and I am sure it must go down really well in Canada, New Zealand, the US, Australia and all the other places with a large Scottish diaspora. Suffice to say, if you are at an event in Scotland, it is a definite crowd-pleaser and is often the last song to be played at the end of the night. Lends itself well to the forming a circle and letting the mayhem commence.


The band has changed its lineup many times since forming in 1973 but the two songwriters Rory Macdonald and Calum Macdonald have been there right since the beginning. Donnie Munro left in 1997 to pursue a career in politics but was replaced by Bruce Guthro, a Canadian from Nova Scotia, who seems to have been just the right fit.

I visited Skye last summer and met up with a native who has been a friend for years. She took us to one of the many fine-dining restaurants on Skye (two have Michelin stars) and pointed out that if we looked closely when the door to the kitchen swung open, we would see Donnie Munro loading the dishwasher! Turns out his son is now a successful chef and his dad is only too happy to help out behind the scenes, even supplying the tablet that we thoroughly enjoyed with our coffee. How things change over the years…..

Loch Lomond Lyrics
(Song by Unknown – Traditional)

By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes,
Where the sun shines on Loch Lomond.
Where me and my true love spent many days
On the banks of Loch Lomond.

Too sad we parted in yon shady glen,
On the steep sides of Ben Lomond.
Where the broken heart knows no second spring,
Resigned we must be while we’re parting.

You’ll take the high road and I’ll take the low road,
And I’ll be in Scotland before you.
Where me and my true love will never meet again,
On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond.

Ho, ho mo leannan
Ho mo leannan bhoidheach

You’ll take the high road and I’ll take the low road,
And I’ll be in Scotland before you.
Where me and my true love will never meet again,
On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond.

The Proclaimers, Hibs and “Sunshine On Leith”

Last time I wrote about Elvis Presley, a performer who could only have come from the southern states of America. His accent, his good manners, his songs, all reflected his roots and his “place” in the world, right from the very beginning and throughout his career. In Scotland, we didn’t produce an Elvis Presley but we did produce The Proclaimers. Like Elvis, their accents, their good manners and songs were very much of their “place” and like most Scots I am really proud of what they have achieved.

I will admit that unlike Elvis they were never destined to become teen idols, but ever since twins Charlie and Craig Reid appeared on the music scene in the mid ’80s they have produced an impressive body of work and kept entertaining audiences around the world with their very distinctive brand of anthemic music.


I first saw them in concert in the autumn of 1986 when they supported The Housemartins who were touring the UK at the time. I can still remember my quite “posh” friend’s surprised reaction to the twins, as she had never heard anyone sing with such strong Scottish accents before. Also they sang about places and happenings that we all could relate to. It didn’t take them long to cross the Atlantic and appear on US television chat shows, their songs becoming big hits over there too. They have even appeared on Family Guy!


My favourite Proclaimers’ song is Sunshine On Leith which came from their second album and was a minor hit in 1988. It is a song that is just so connected to their birthplace, Leith, a district in the north of Edinburgh. A stage musical called Sunshine On Leith was written in 2007 featuring the songs of The Proclaimers, and an excellent film of the same name was made in 2013. It is one of the rare times I have enjoyed a film so much that I went back to watch it for a second time the next night.

Sunshine On Leith by The Proclaimers:

Like last time with the Elvis song, I have decided to include more than one version and these next two bring a lump to my throat every time. The first shows just what can happen when football fans adopt a song and in the case of Sunshine On Leith, that could only have happened with Hibernian FC, the club based right there in Leith. Fortunately Charlie and Craig are fans of the club and they must have been really moved by what happened after Hibs’ amazing Scottish League Cup Final win in 2007 – You can tell that the club’s manager, John Collins, definitely was.

Sunshine On Leith Cup Final version (best bit kicks in at 1:14 – no pun intended):

The second version of this song is from the film and is performed by Jane Horrocks. A completely different version from the one sung with such passion on the football terraces but sung with a different kind of passion, that of a wife for her poorly husband. If you haven’t seen either the stage show or the film, I would thoroughly recommend both although I would also thoroughly recommend bringing a large supply of tissues as I ran out last time – Not a pretty sight leaving the cinema.

Sunshine On Leith from the film soundtrack:

Sunshine On Leith Lyrics
(Song by Charlie Reid/Craig Reid)

My heart was broken, my heart was broken 
Sorrow Sorrow Sorrow Sorrow
My heart was broken, my heart was broken
You saw it, You claimed it
You touched it, You saved it

My tears are drying, my tears are drying 
Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you
My tears are drying, my tears are drying
Your beauty and kindness
Made tears clear my blindness

While I’m worth my room on this earth
I will be with you
While the Chief, puts sunshine on Leith
I’ll thank Him for His work
And your birth and my birth