Alan Brown: Press

Here's my Brown's Around article in the July issue of Highland Perthshire's news magazine.

AND HERE ARE TODAY’S TEAMS

As another World Cup bites the dust and the memories drift away to be recycled into satellite television fodder for the next four years, we look back fondly on that feast of football. Mayhap we can summon it again to mind by spin-offs in popularity such as if the Provincial Mod in Aberfeldy hosts competitions for Best Playing of a Traditional Gaelic Air on the Vuvuzela or if sports clinics in Highland Perthshire offer education in How to Feign a Life-Threatening Injury from a Tugged Sleeve.

Although the concept of making a noise at a football match is not new, the infiltration of popular music into the game is relatively modern. Your grandfather would have baulked at any form of chanting at a football match; rattles of the non-baby kind were the must-have accessory of the day and shouting was permissible, of course - think of the Hampden Roar. There might be a pipe band and there might be community singing before the game began, but singing during the game was definitely aff.

The modern form of terracing chanting began with the fans of the great Brazilian World Cup teams of the Sixties and spread over here like their style of football never did. Today it is commonplace to hear the Latin American classic ‘Guantanamera’ sung with words featuring a favourite player along the lines of “One James McFadden, there’s only one James McFadden.”

But who could have foreseen a football crowd singing a song from a Broadway musical with the original words? The Rodgers and Hammerstein 1945 stage show ‘Carousel‘ was made into a movie in 1956 and provided an inspirational song called ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone‘. The original soundtrack version, featuring Shirley Jones and Gordon MacRae, was an enormous success and there the story seemed to end. But in 1963, just as The Mersey Sound was emerging from Liverpool, the song was recorded by Gerry and the Pacemakers. It was played at Liverpool FC’s ground at Anfield and adopted as “their song” by the famed Kop End.

On the other side of the city, Liverpool’s great rivals Everton still take the field at Goodison Park to the original version of the theme from ‘Z Cars‘, played by Edinburgh musician Johnny Keating for a television police series which began in 1962. Everton had one of their most successful times during this era and the playing of the tune is probably intended to spur them on to greater things.

West Ham United fans have an unlikely choice of song in ‘I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles‘. In 1927, an advertising campaign appeared for soap featuring a curly haired child blowing soap bubbles, from an original painting by Birnam aficionado John Everett Millais. The child was likened to one of the West Ham players and the song is sung to this day. Meanwhile, Manchester City supporters belt out their version of ‘Blue Moon‘, another Richard Rodgers song, this time with lyrics by Lorenz Hart and written in 1934.

But perhaps the strangest club song - and one with a definite Scottish link - is that of Birmingham City. Before every game you will hear fans on the terracing (not sure about the ones in corporate hospitality) singing a song composed by Sir Harry Lauder. The song is ‘Keep Right On to the End of the Road‘ and it was written by Lauder in tragic circumstances, after hearing that his only son, John, an officer with the 8th Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders, had been killed in action at Poiziers in 1916. His last words to his comrades were to the effect of “Keep on” and Lauder constructed the very moving song around this. A Scots-born Birmingham player named Alex Govan may have been responsible for introducing the song to the club.

And both Arsenal and Port Vale can be seen lining up to face the faithful while that well-known club legend Elvis Presley sings his 1970 hit ‘The Wonder of You’ over the speakers. Equally strange, Wigan Athletic march down the tunnel to the rousing sound of Sergei Prokofiev’s ‘The Montagues and Capulets’ from his ‘Romeo and Juliet’ ballet. What? No George Formby? Ah well, we’ll leave the last word with that famous Stratford Town supporter, Mr Shakespeare himself, for did he not sum it all up with “Thou only singest when thou art winning”?

Here's my Brown's Around article in the June issue of Highland Perthshire's news magazine.

HOLIDAY ON ICE

This month’s article was prompted by an almost-holiday. With me? At the beginning of last month a band of happy travellers saw the dawn break over Paisley - an unforgettable experience with its chorus of coughing birds. The bad news came at Glasgow Airport; no planes going anywhere today because of volcanic ash (perhaps that’s why the birds were coughing.)

A hasty change of plan and we were off to deepest Yorkshire and, eventually, York itself. Beautiful city with cherry blossom blowing along the streets making it seem like snow, and it was cold enough for it if your wardrobe was designed for Spain.

But a visit to the National Railway Museum soon lifted the gloom and put me in mind of this story, which begins exactly a hundred years ago.

In the summer of 1910, Donald Matheson was General Manager of the Caledonian Railway Company, which ran the West Coast line from London to Scotland. He was on holiday in Strathearn and, impressed by the landscape, he hit upon the idea for a grand hotel.

He believed that once he had ‘the traveller in his pocket’ on the train, he should aim to keep and look after that traveller at the end of the journey. With this vision in mind he had already developed several city-centre railway hotels, including the prestigious Caledonian Hotel in Edinburgh.

But this was to be a different type of hotel, offering first class service and hospitality as well as golfing and sports facilities. Construction began, only to be halted by the outbreak of World War I, but in June 1924 Gleneagles Hotel celebrated its gala opening.

The first visitors were able to travel by train to Gleneagles Station from where chauffeured cars would transport them to the hotel. Its opening was a major event; the newspapers talked of “A Riviera in the Highlands", "The Playground of the Gods" and "The Switzerland of Scotland".

So where’s the musical bit? Allow me to introduce Henry Hall. Not the one who used to terrorise defences at Muirton Park but the one born in Peckham, London, in 1898. His parents were members of the Salvation Army and music was an important part of family life. After service in World War I, Henry began work as a pianist at the Midland Hotel in Manchester, going on to become musical director of the hotel band.

This time coincided with the building of Gleneagles and Henry was involved in buying the pianos for the new hotel and planning the dance band entertainment. His brainwave was to advertise the hotel through the popular medium of radio, so he was given permission to augment the Manchester band and move it to Perthshire.

On 4 June 1924 there took place the Gleneagles opening night dinner dance, and the first ever outside broadcast in Scotland. It was broadcast live on the BBC, a technical feat of genius for its time. Henry composed a piece of music for the opening night entitled Glen of Eagles and to this day the hotel has a golden eagle as its symbol (even though it is a mistranslation of the Gaelic name which refers to churches rather than eagles!) Using only one microphone, the broadcast might not have been of digital sound quality but listeners were delighted and more programmes followed.

The broadcasts by the Gleneagles Band - signature tune Come Ye Back to Bonnie Scotland - attracted much comment as the six-piece outfit was small for a regular
broadcasting unit. But they could hold an unseen audience for an hour and a half without a vocalist and the BBC were impressed.

When their resident dance bandleader, Jack Payne, decided to leave to go on tour, Henry was invited to form a new BBC Dance Orchestra. Many in the London musical profession were shocked that a leader from "the provinces" had been given this prestigious job and music critics were scathing about the new band but Henry soon won the hearts of the British public with his fine music and quiet but engaging personality, and led the band to even greater popularity than before.

He went on to become one of Britain’s best loved entertainers with hits including The Sun Has Got His Hat On and Here’s to the Next Time. His broadcasts attracted millions of listeners every week and his recording of Teddy Bears’ Picnic sold more than one million copies across the country. His many vocalists included Dan Donovan, Flanagan & Allen, Gracie Fields and George Elrick. And, by the way, the hotel’s doing all right too.

Here's my May 2010 Brown's Around article in Highland Perthshire's news magazine.

IN THE PINK

Was it not the great William Shakespeare who wrote: Though showers of April may come your way, they bring the flowers that bloom in May, yea verily? Oh, it wasn’t?
Never mind, because for me the merry month of May means the beginning of another season of shows at Castle Menzies.

May month sees me have the great pleasure of presenting my one-man show This is Scotland … and You’re Welcome to It! for the sixth year in succession. It’s been described, mainly by me, as an irreverent but affectionate look and listen in words and music to that strange country which we know as Scotland, with particular emphasis on Highland Perthshire (looking for Brownie points by thinking local.)

Is it a concert? Well, no, not really, though there is someone performing. Is it a ceilidh? No, there’s no opportunity for you to Strip your Willow in public. Is it a sing-song? Yes, if you can catch on to those songs with choruses.

So what is it NOT? Well, it definitely isn’t a Highland Night. Granny’s Hielan’ Hame will remain unoccupied for the evening, fans of the Wild Rover will find him electronically tagged and safe at home with his bottle of Buckfast, and country music addicts will discover the Blanket on the Ground is still in the car boot. Incidentally, what do you get if you play a country song backwards? Answer: Your job and your wife back.

So what is it? Well, how about an evening of gentle music and comedy letting you into the secrets of this part of the world. Come along and discover the links between Roman Governor Pontius Pilate and Togas-R-Us in Fortingall; marvel at how Bonnie Prince Charlie - he stayed a couple of nights at Castle Menzies in 1746 - sold the story of his exploits over the sea to Skye Digital; gasp in awe (or awe-no) at Highland Perthshire’s very own entry for the Eurovision Song Contest; follow in the footsteps of such famous visitors as Queen Victoria, Robert Burns, Felix Mendelssohn, Robert Louis Stevenson and the original bunny girl - Beatrix Potter; learn of the prophesies of The Lady of Lawers (note: this section may be cancelled due to unforeseen circumstances) and relive the days of the steamships on Loch Tay - plus so much more.

This year the show is taking place in the elegant portrait-hung Pink Room of Castle Menzies, magnificently situated just outside Aberfeldy on the B846 which leads you over General Wade’s 1733 bridge on the romantic Road to the Isles by Tummel and Loch Rannoch and (if you’re really lost) Lochaber.

My agent has asked me to point out that I am a singer, musician, award-winning songwriter, playwright, journalist and broadcaster, and so modest with it. He says to tell you that I have lived in Highland Perthshire for almost 40 years man and boy - mostly boy - and performed in venues as diverse as Edinburgh’s Signet Library and Netherbow Theatre; Stirling Castle; Pitlochry Festival Theatre; Royal Northern & Clyde Yachting Club; Carbisdale Castle; Blair Castle; Northwood Country Club (Dallas, Texas); Alparon Farm Park in Pennsylvania; in a marquee at the top of Drummond Hill and in more hotels, pubs and clubs than you could write down, not forgetting the Dalweem Dog Show where they were howling for more. And I’ve to remember to inform you that I have compered Pitlochry’s famous outdoor Highland Nights for the past 13 years but, as I may have said before, this is definitely NOT a Highland Night.

This is Scotland … and You’re Welcome to It! is presented at 8 pm each Thursday evening from 20 May to 16 September. Tickets are £6 and on sale at the venue or may be reserved by phoning the Castle on (01887) 820982. There is more information on my website at www.broonsreel.com

I hope to see you there sometime over the long, hot summer ahead.

Here's my April Brown's Around article in Highland Perthshire's news magazine.

BIRTH(DAY) OF THE BLUES

It’s your starter for ten and your time starts now: who founded and still leads possibly the most influential British band of all time, a band that was responsible for firing the musical spark that would eventually develop into Beatlemania and conquer the world? That’s right - Chris Barber. Wait a minute; perhaps I’m going too fast. Chris Barber? Didn’t he play trad jazz? Wasn’t that the antiquated novelty music of the early 1960’s done by musicians dressed in funny bowler hats and striped waistcoats? The answer is yes, and no.

Chris Barber celebrates his 80th birthday on 17 April and is one of the nicest people in the music business. A few years ago I interviewed him for Heartland FM at the Queen’s Hall in Edinburgh. I asked him if he could spare me ten minutes to talk about the origins of skiffle and fifty minutes later the tape had run out and he was still talking!

Here’s the background. Chris had led his first group as an amateur from 1949 to 1953 but the following year they brought in trumpeter Ken Colyer as leader. Colyer, born in Great Yarmouth, was a purist who was dedicated to New Orleans jazz. He joined the Merchant Navy and jumped ship in New Orleans to meet and play with his idol George Lewis. He joined the band, which included Monty Sunshine on clarinet and Lonnie Donegan on banjo, on his release from prison after ignoring the expiry date on his visa!

The combination of Colyer’s first-hand experience of the New Orleans sound together with Barber’s music-school training and the entire band’s love of New Orleans jazz, immediately put them streets ahead of their rivals. However, after a year of personality clashes, the other members of the band voted out Colyer and chose Chris as their leader, and that’s how it has remained until this day.

But what was I saying about being influential? Well, the Chris Barber Band is responsible for at least two Magic Moments that left an impression not only on the British jazz scene but also on the broader world of entertainment.

In 1955 we had our first taste of skiffle, chiefly through the singing of Glasgow-born Lonnie Donegan. Skiffle was the term originally applied to home-made vocal and instrumental jazz, performed at rent parties in the late 1920’s in the United States. To this, Lonnie added an element of country-style singing and when he recorded Leadbelly's Rock Island Line in 1954 with Chris on bass and Beryl Bryden on washboard, the record was an immediate success, earning gold records in both the USA and Britain.

Donegan’s music inspired thousands of teenagers to form amateur skiffle groups, playing such state-of-the-art instruments as tea-chest basses, washboards and kazoos. Incidentally, the early forms of amplification included miking-up the instruments using war-surplus tank commanders’ throat microphones played through a radio!
And the Beatles? As John Lennon said: “I think I was about 15. There was a big thing called skiffle. It’s a kind of American folk music, only sort of jing-jingo-jing-jingo-jing-jiggy, with washboards. All the kids used to have these groups, and I formed The Quarry Men at school. Then I met Paul.“ So, the progression could be argued: no Barber, no Lonnie, no Beatles.

The other Magic Moment came in 1956 when clarinettist Monty Sunshine recorded a solo performance of Sidney Bechet's Petite Fleur which, when released as a single three years later, earned the band two more gold records, paving the way for several other semi-pop clarinet features, notably Stranger on the Shore for Mr Acker Bilk.

By the way, Chris didn’t get a gold disc for Rock Island Line, on which he played, but he did get one for Petite Fleur, on which he didn’t play!

Radio stations in the UK, Canada, Germany, the Netherlands and Denmark, at the latest count, will be celebrating Chris’s 80th birthday with special programmes, and how will the man himself be marking the occasion? Why, working of course, on a tour of the UK and Europe far too far away to see him in concert. But wait! Shining like a beacon in the darkest night there’s the following gig: Sunday 2 May, Rothesay Pavilion, Isle of Bute.

Happy birthday, Chris, and long may you continue to break down entertainment barriers.

Here's my March Brown's Around article in Highland Perthshire's news magazine.

ISLAND HOPPING

One of the most attractive aspects of small, independent record labels is their sheer versatility. Because they’re either new to the game or determined not to be like the others, they’re not afraid to take risks. The term for this, I believe, is pushing the envelope.

There can’t be too many Scottish independent record labels who can entertain you with their product, serve you up a meal, take you on a boat trip to the islands then finish off with a dram of their own whisky. Well, Skipinnish Records can do all that.

But let’s go back to the beginning. In 1999 Angus MacPhail, an accordionist from Tiree (the island bit of the title), and Andrew Stevenson, a piper from Achnacarry, near Fort William, met when they were first year students at the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama in Glasgow.

After playing together at various impromptu sessions, they formed a ceilidh dance band (the hopping bit) which they called Skipinnish. Soon they were in demand for festivals, concerts, dances and weddings both at home and abroad, from the Marine Hotel in Mallaig to the Hyundi Hotel in Ulsan, South Korea, by way of the main auditorium of the Glasgow Royal Concert Hall and definitely not forgetting Johnny Alec MacKay's kitchen in Torlum, Benbecula.

In July 2001 they released their debut CD and its popularity saw the band take a step higher up the ladder by forming their own record label two years later. Skipinnish Records set up its own roster of performers, including bands such as Skerryvore and Deoch ‘n’ Dorus, solo singers Rachel Walker and Calum Alex MacMillan, accordionist Gary Innes and fiddler Archie McAllister.

What was I saying about serving you up a meal? Read on because Skipinnish’s most recent venture is a restaurant in Oban. Readers may remember McTavish’s Kitchen on George Street, overlooking Oban Bay, which featured a Scottish traditional music show over the summer months. Well, it’s been reborn as The Skipinnish Ceilidh House and is being run as a music and events venue.

Then there’s Skipinnish Sea Tours, based in Tiree and Oban, where you can choose a cruise such as the Tobermory Express (50 minutes door to door), Fingal’s Cave, Skerryvore Lighthouse, watching puffins on Lunga or eyeing up whales, dolphins, seals, sea birds and sharks.

But what about the music? Well, in the years since its inception the label‘s recording policy has never wavered: quality music, true to its roots in the Highland tradition, and I’ve been checking over Skipinnish Records’ three newest albums over the past few weeks.

One of their most popular performers is Gaelic singer Rachel Walker (also Andrew‘s wife). To dispel the myth that only native-born Gaels can sing Gaelic, Rachel was born and brought up south of the border until moving, aged eight, to Kinlochewe in Wester Ross. She was introduced to Gaelic song at primary school and continued to sing throughout her time at Gairloch High School, picking up prizes at local Mods.

She completed a course in Classical Music at Napier University and in 1996 became one of the first students on the brand new Scottish Music course at the RSAMD where she studied Gaelic song under the tutelage of renowned Gaelic singer Kenna Campbell. Her brand new album Air Chall: Lost, has just been released this year.

It’s a beautiful collection of Gaelic songs including four of Rachel’s own compositions and a fun Gaelic/country version of Wayfaring Stranger (a sort of Mo Mhathair Where Art Thou perhaps?). The production is excellent and the backing musicians include Rachel on piano and accordion and such luminaries as Runrig’s Malcolm Jones, fiddler Jenna Reid and singers James Graham and Norrie MacIver. Lovely.

Then there are two albums from the Skipinnish Ceilidh House showcasing the band itself augmented by several guests. The Scottish Music Show features, among others, the brilliant Oban piper Angus MacColl, Gaelic singer Mary Catherine MacNeil and fiddler Archie McAllister whereas Skipinnish: Live from the Ceilidh House is an excellent, turbocharged set of floor-filling ceilidh dances much enjoyed by the audience and, nothing surer, by the listener too.

Oh, nearly forgot the dram. To celebrate ten years of the band, you can now enjoy their own Skipinnish Whisky, a deluxe blend described as the ‘ideal dram, to relax and listen to your favourite CD off the Skipinnish label.’

Slainte, Skipinnish, and best wishes for further success.

Here's my February Brown's Around article in Highland Perthshire's weekly news magazine.

A NOD TO BIG EARS

Back in my days on the airwaves of Heartland FM, where I was told I had a good face for radio, I interviewed a luminary of the Scottish music scene. When asked what he listened to, he produced a quote that has gone down in my Book of Useful Things to Remember, along with “see a pin and pick it up and all day long you’ll have a pin“. He listened to all types of music, he said, because “the best musicians are the ones with the biggest ears.”

When the recent snow and ice made it ideal to stay at home, I caught up with some television programmes I had recorded. Three of these illustrated the point perfectly.

Thanks to the Sky Arts channel, I saw a concert featuring Andre Rieu. Mr Rieu is a Dutch violinist, conductor, and composer best known for creating an international revival in waltz music with his Johann Strauss Orchestra. He is a classical musician and his pedigree is impeccable: taking up the violin at the age of five; his father conductor of the Maastricht Symphony Orchestra; studying at the Conservatoire Royal in Liège then attending the Music Academy in Brussels where he won the Premier Prix at the academy, etc etc. So far so brilliant.

But the turning point came when at University he performed the Gold And Silver Waltz by Franz Lehár. Such was the audience reaction, he eventually created the Johann Strauss Orchestra. Since then, thanks to some canny marketing and oodles of showmanship, the Orchestra has increased to some 40 or 50 musicians and his travels have taken him throughout Europe, North America, Australia and Japan.

His concert theme was a romantic evening in Vienna with a life-size reproduction of the Schönbrunn Palace, including two skating rinks, two fountains and a ballroom dance floor. Don’t expect to see them at the Birnam Institute or Pitlochry Festival Theatre.

But the concert featured more than Viennese music. There was a comedy zitherist who played the theme from The Third Man (okay, so that’s Vienna), a ballet, and even three female musicians who stepped out from the Orchestra and appeared as The Andre Sisters performing Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy and other hits of their American counterparts. A marching band played The Stars and Stripes and they finished the evening with Auld Lang Syne. Classical music, Jim, but not as we know it.

The second programme was a look at a CD recording. Cellist Yo-Yo Ma was born in Paris to Chinese parents. His mother was a singer and his father a professor of music. His family moved to New York when he was four years old and, simply put, he was a child prodigy, appearing before audiences at age five, and performing for President John F Kennedy when he was seven. At age eight, he appeared on television with his sister in a concert conducted by Leonard Bernstein.

So, there is nothing this man cannot do musically, picking up Honorary Degrees and playing with the world‘s leading orchestras. But last Christmas he brought out an album called Yo-Yo Ma and Friends - Songs of Joy and Peace, and the Sky Arts programme looked at its recording. The Friends included musicians from many different parts of the spectrum: Dave Brubeck, Diana Krall, Natalie MacMaster, Alison Krauss, Renee Fleming, James Taylor and saxophonist Chris Botti. Try pigeonholing that bunch.

It’s a classical musician duetting with differently biased guests and proving his excellence in just about any non-classical sphere you could mention. You won’t find that sort of thing at the Proms!

But wait … the third programme was on BBC4 and did come from the Proms. It was a celebration of MGM musicals with songs from The Wizard of Oz, Meet Me in St Louis, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, High Society, Gigi and Singin' in the Rain.

It was a labour of love for conductor John Wilson. When MGM destroyed its music studio to make way for a car park(!), all the original orchestral parts were lost. Wilson reconstructed the scores by painstakingly transcribing each soundtrack by ear. The result was an amazing evening with Wilson’s own hand-picked Orchestra and singers from the classical and musical theatre worlds.

These were three programmes which would delight music lovers everywhere, proving that there are only really two kinds of music: good and bad. I‘m sure they’ll be on air again. In more ways than one they were Out of the Box.

Here's my January Brown's Around column in Comment - the Highland Perthshire news magazine.

SHORTENED SHANTER

Firstly, may I wish a very happy New Year to readers of this column, both those who follow the words across the page with a forefinger - sometimes their own - and also those who colour in the centre of the letter ‘o’, and compliment you once again on your impeccable taste in literature.

Last January I managed to sneak in yet another fascinating article on the genius of Robert Burns by linking it to the Year of Homecoming. Well, 2010 is officially The Year of I’m Not Coming Home, Thank You, it’s Too Cold Where You Live and I Know You‘d Really Prefer to Visit Me in Florida.

Yes, the Burns Supper Season is upon us. I am told that there is an upsurge in popularity of this grand occasion where we toast the health of both a man and a country while eating strange bits of animals. Just in case these forecasts are wrong (I know, forecasts are never wrong: did you enjoy the Barbecue Summer of 2009?) I’m willing to try to smooth the way for those poor unfortunates who haven’t experienced a Burns Supper.

One of the most enjoyable parts is the rendition of Tam o’ Shanter and his encounter with a party of witches having a party, if you’re still with me. Ladies and gentlemen, for your entertainment and education I give you the Person in a Hurry’s Guide to Tam o’ Shanter:

Robert Burns was a man didn’t like to hang about
So this is Tam o’ Shanter with some bits missed out
It’s all done in Scots, but if you’re thinking: ‘Oh no!‘
Well there’s bound to be a website with the English words below

It’s market day in Ayr, that unsurpassed town
On a terrible night since the sun went down
But the pub’s real cosy with a fireside reek
And there’s not another Quiz Night till Wednesday week

Tam and Soutar Johnny, well they’re joined at the hip
Bouzin’ at the nappy and the odd wee nip
Till Burns declaims profoundly on the subject of time
How you’ve got it, then you haven’t, but it’s all done in rhyme

So Tam gets his bonnet and his grey mare Kate
And gallops down the road like a demon - no, wait!
Kate’s Tam’s wife, it’s Meg that’s his steed
And after what she does tonight her future’s guaranteed

For Tam takes her through the valley of doom
That would never win a mention in Pitlochry in Bloom
Yodelling through the thunderclaps, on through mire and dub
Never thinking that he’s going to meet Beelzebub

When all of a sudden, coming to him through the mirk
He thinks he sees a disco in Alloway Kirk
Tam’s not the lad to miss a purvey or a chance
Soon he’s peeping through the window at the bogles’ dance

The cabaret’s assembled, the women are a sight
Like a Beverley Sisters Reunion Night
Coffins standing open, Tam’s held in thrall
It’s even more hellish than the Highland Ball

But Tam spots this burd with a shift not long
He can even read ‘St Michael’ on the label of her thong
Forgets about the tomahawks, forgets about the knife
Thanks to John Barleycorn forgets about the wife

Now Satan’s hyperventilating, folk begin to cheer
Nannie - that’s the dancing burd - goes up another gear
Tam doesn’t realise he’s at the gates of Hell
Loses all reason and shouts out: “Gaun yersel!”

Out go the lights, Satan interrupts his tune
Meg makes a beeline for the old Brig o’ Doon
Nannie flies behind them with the witches in tow
Tam sees the keystone and shouts “Geronimo!”

Nannie gives a scream for she knows she’s going to fail
Maggie’s got a cold dowp ‘cause Nannie’s got her tail
Tam knows he’s safe, he can toddle on hame
Though he’d better mind some flowers for his sulky sullen dame

Robert Burns was a man didn’t like to hang about
So that was Tam o’ Shanter with some bits missed out
The moral of the story in the poet’s own words:
Go easy on the hard stuff and stay away from burdz

But just as an epilogue, I’ll send my best regards
For it seems to me my moral is different from the bard’s
There’s nothing wrong with cutty sarks and toasting you and yours
Just stay away from kirkyards … and don’t forget the flooers

Here's my December Brown's Around column in Comment - the Highland Perthshire news magazine.

ENDURING SACHS APPEAL

By the time this edition of Comment hits the news-stands of Highland Perthshire with a resounding wallop, Aberfeldy Drama Club’s production of The Christmas Good Old Days will have completed its run.

In the weeks leading up to the event I was pleasantly surprised by the number of people who commented on the inspiration for the choice of show. I was equally surprised by the wide age group who remembered it. It was only when researching this article (well, somebody has to occasionally) that I discovered that the original BBC television light entertainment programme, as it was described in those far off times, was first shown in 1953 and ran for an incredible thirty years. That explained to me why people remembered watching it as adults and also from visiting granny and grandpa’s house to see how the old codgers were getting on.

The Good Old Days was recorded live at Leeds City Varieties and endeavoured to recreate an authentic atmosphere of the Victorian or Edwardian music hall. Songs and sketches of the era were performed by present-day entertainers in the style of the original artistes and as far as I can recall there were no performers plugging their latest ghost-written biography or currently appearing in a new reality show.

The programme was compered by Leonard Sachs, who was always immaculately dressed and never used one word when five would improve his valedictory variegation of vaudevillian versatility and verbal vivacity. You get the picture?

The audience dressed in period costume, mostly hired, and were entreated by Mr Sachs to join in the choruses, especially the closing number of the show Down at the Old Bull and Bush.

It was first broadcast on 20 July 1953 and came about through the success of an entertainment called Ridgeway's Late Joys, which was produced at the Players' Theatre Club in Covent Garden, a private members' club which ran fortnightly programmes of variety acts in London's West End.

Leonard Sachs and Peter Ridgeway were co-founders of the club, and the Players’ became a well known venue. Seeking a Christmas show in 1937, they were persuaded to present an evening of Music Hall entertainment. The show was an instant success, with the original cast including Patricia Hayes and Megs Jenkins.

After Ridgeway’s death, Leonard Sachs continued on his own. Among the new talent he discovered were Bernard Miles, Alec Clunes and Peter Ustinov. Amazingly, on his professional debut, Ustinov had his audition at 11 am and appeared on stage at 11 pm the same day.

During the thirty-year television run of The Good Old Days over 2,000 artistes took part, spanning an incredible period of British theatre. One of the performers in the1954 series was Tod Slaughter, an actor best known for playing maniacal roles in Victorian melodramas such as Maria Marten or Murder in the Red Barn and the lead role in Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street.

Other luminaries to grace the stage of the City Varieties included Morecambe and Wise, Cardew Robinson, Ted Ray, George Chisholm, Eartha Kitt, Arthur Askey, Billy Dainty, Terry Lightfoot and His Band, Rod Hull, Tessie O'Shea, Bruce Forsyth, Charlie Williams, Roy Castle, Larry Grayson, Frank Carson, Roy Hudd, Frankie Vaughan, Les Dawson, Bernard Cribbins, Barry Cryer, Mary O'Hara, Vince Hill and the multi-talented Edward Woodward, who died last month.

At 3.50 pm on Friday 30 December 1983, Mr Sachs’s gavel was brought down for the last time when the BBC presented a documentary called Goodbye to the Good Old Days.

Some of the performances are available through YouTube, and a company called memories-dvd is advertising a DVD called The Good Old Days, which has never been commercially released, stating that the quality is 9/10. I can’t recommend them as I haven’t used them but it seems good value at £9.99.

So, as Christmas approaches, let me wish you a fanfaronade of festive felicitations. Joy to the whole world, of course, but, dear readers, as Leonard Sachs would say: “chiefly YOURSELVES”.

Here's my Brown's Around article for November in Comment, the Highland Perthshire news magazine.

UNCLE ECK AND CLAN DONNACHAIDH

The theme for this month’s dose of deathless prose came about on two counts. Firstly, I’d been watching Paul Murton’s BBC series on Scotland’s clans, and if you‘ve been following the programmes you’ll know that the Robertsons were one of those extended families to be featured. If you haven’t been watching it, you’ll just have to take my word for it, but trust me: I’m not a doctor.

Secondly, I’ve long had an admiration for a Country Music Legend (and that’s official) by the name of Jimmie Rodgers. I perform his songs regularly in my act - though it’s not an act, it’s real - but few people seem to have heard of him. What, you neither? Does Waitin’ for a Train or Miss the Mississippi and You or T for Texas mean nothing to you? Well, you’ll find a huge portrait of him on the lounge wall of the terminal building at Atlanta airport in Georgia but it’s probably easier to look him up on Google. But don’t email him: he died in 1933 at the age of 36.

It was while searching for information on Jimmie Rodgers that I came upon a fiddler by the name of Uncle Eck Robertson. Now I know that doesn’t necessarily make him a Scot, but when I reveal his full name as Alexander Campbell Robertson, you might tend to side with my argument. He lived from 1887 to 1975 and is recognized as one of America's great traditional fiddlers. He is credited with being the first country musician to be recorded commercially, in 1922, for the Victor Talking Machine Company.

Eck Robertson was born in Delaney, Arizona on 20 November 1887 before his family moved to the Texas Panhandle when he was three, and settled on a small farm outside Amarillo, long before Tony Christie had to ask how to get there. We are told that in the 19th century his grandfather, father and uncles often entered fiddle contests. With a generation normally taken as 25 years, this would mean that the family might have emigrated from Scotland round about the 1850s, or earlier, but this is speculation. (I once tried to prove that the legendary clarinettist and band leader Artie Shaw was Scots until I found that his real name was Arthur Ashawsky.)

Eck started playing fiddle when he was 5 years old, leaving home at age sixteen and travelling with medicine shows, a major employer of country musicians at the time, through the Indian Territory, known today as Oklahoma. At these shows he learned many of his fiddle tricks, of which more later.

In 1906 he married Nettie, his childhood sweetheart, who played guitar. They performed in magic shows and, later, accompanied silent films. They settled near Amarillo and he tuned pianos for a living. He and Nettie continued to perform in vaudeville theatres and fiddle contests in the Southwestern states and as the son of a Civil War veteran, he attended Old Confederate Soldiers’ Reunions annually, performing for the vast audiences there.

Eck explained some of his fiddling tricks in an interview in the 1960s. These included tossing the fiddle or bow in the air, catching it and not missing a beat, playing with the instrument behind his back, and fiddling while, in his own words, "laying down on the stage and doing somersaults." His other trick was to make his fiddle talk, and such was his confidence and ability that he would offer a dollar to any child in the audience who didn't understand what the violin said.

Perhaps Uncle Eck’s family came from this part of the world. If so, he wouldn’t be the only award-winning Country Music star to have that distinction, for Glen Campbell was extremely proud of his forefathers’ origins in Atholl.

So there’s a link between the music of, say, Niel Gow which crossed the Atlantic and continued down the line of fiddlers such as Uncle Eck to present-day exponents of the art such as Stuart Duncan, who you may have seen and heard on the Transatlantic Sessions television series filmed at Glenlyon House. Any more information on Uncle Eck would be much appreciated.

Here's my article in the October issue of Comment, the news magazine of Highland Perthshire.

SCOT OF THE ANTARCTIC - THE SEQUEL

Loyal readers of this column - hi, how are you both? - may remember that exactly one year ago I had my first taste of busking. Did you remember? Me neither, but I’ll continue. When I say busking, that’s not busking as in Perth’s pedestrian precinct, competing for public largesse with unicyclists, fire-eaters, pan-pipe players and Big Issue salespersons. No, it was much more rural.

Come back in time with me to the dark streets of a little Highland Perthshire town for the Pitlochry Autumn Festival.

Last October a short coach journey up the road to Faskally Woods led some 20,000 visitors (looks even better than in words: twenty thousand visitors) to The Enchanted Forest. To tie in with this sound and light extravaganza, some enterprising people in the town set up their own 17-day festival to ensure that visitors arriving in Pitlochry at, say, 6 pm had something to do before their coach left at, say, 9 pm.

This ‘something to do’ included wining and dining, some fairly late-night shopping, and some entertainment provided by street buskers. This is where I enter the plot.

When the Pitlochry Autumn Festival Committee contracted me to entertain for 17 nights in a row - the entire duration of the Festival - I had visions of the old-style buskers who would perform in front of cinema or theatre queues, putting a smile on everyone’s face on balmy summer evenings when all was wonderful.

The reality was more harsh, although my pitch (busking argot for performing area of indeterminate size) seemed ideal. I was allocated the frontage of that well-respected emporium Macnaughtons of Pitlochry at the top of the road which leads to the railway station and is called, not surprisingly, Station Road. Those readers au fait with Pitlochry’s retail layout will know that there is an architecturally pleasing canopy or arcade outside said shop, and each evening I gave thanks to its architect for sheltering me from the rain which seemed to fall all the time.

The kind and generous proprietors provided me with a power supply for my public address system. I was tempted to ask for a microwave, a 3-bar electric heater and a kettle, but decided to invoke the old Brown pioneering spirit that won the West and disregard the elements.

My faith in this wonderful climate of ours was rewarded. The rain disappeared by the final week, to be replaced by some of the coldest weather so far, with snow and frost severely hampering my quickfire Claptonesque guitar playing by making me drop my pick on several occasions as my fingers began to resemble a pack of frozen sausages.

Audiences were an eye-opener. Remember, these people were about to join coaches taking them to the highlight of their visit - The Enchanted Forest - or bringing them back after that wonderful experience. When they turned the corner and saw me belting out the hits of past, present and never, they would walk past staring at a fixed point on their shoes, remembering the golden rule of street survival - Never Make Eye Contact With A Busker.

Or they would approach from the coach rank itself, spot me from a distance and cross to the other side of the street, smiling happily or waving to me as they skipped along in time to the music.

Although I had been contracted to play, I decided to raise some money for charity by leaving my guitar case open, as buskers do, with a couple of signs advising people that all donations were going to Sense Scotland, the deafblind charity. By the end of the Festival I had raised over £170, which wasn’t very much but justified my being there.

My thanks to the good people who donated money, who encouraged me and who asked questions about the songs. The stewards were wonderful and there were the regulars: the man who walked his son’s dog then went home to his own house; the lady on the Bankfoot bus who always waved, stopping once to take my photograph. There were parties of snap-happy Japanese students, and, especially, two young German visitors who have been coming to Scotland for 16 years. They contacted me via my website saying they had seen me perform last summer and where could they see me again between 28 and 31 October? I explained the unusual gig and there they were, having bought tickets for The Enchanted Forest over the internet. And they’re coming back this year.

So, it’s October and I’ve been contracted once again to do my 17 nights outside Macnaughtons. I’ll be collecting for Sense Scotland, so if you’re passing I’d appreciate a smile or a smidgeon of repartee or even a pound coin for others less fortunate. But remember: I don’t do requests … unless I’m asked.

And here's my article in the September issue of Comment, the news magazine of Highland Perthshire.

A WOP BOP A LOO BOP IN YOUR OWN FRONT ROOM

Cast your mind back, dear reader, to the year of 1987. Was it a significant year musically? Well, it was the year when an Irish band called U2 released a best-selling album The Joshua Tree. It was the year in which Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. And, of course, it was the never to be forgotten year when a young Australian singer called Kylie Minogue released her first hit, a remake of Little Eva’s The Loco-Motion. Ah, but I sense that you suspect I’m toying with you. I am, for overshadowing all this, 1987 was the Year of Tutti Frutti.

Bursting on to our TV screens came John Byrne’s six-part series about The Majestics, a band of middle-aged Scottish rock’n’rollers, aided and abetted by two young pretenders, who set off on a Silver Jubilee Tour of provincial Scotland. The venues on the tour included such highspots as Methil, Leuchars, Broughty Ferry and Aberfeldy (yes, really), culminating in a concert at Glasgow’s Pavilion.

The series made stars of Robbie Coltrane, Emma Thompson and Richard Wilson and their excellent performances can be enjoyed once again because after years of wrangling over copyright and distribution, the BBC has released it on DVD. Already it has gone to the top of the charts at online retailer Amazon, where it remains in the top five bestsellers.

And there’s another link with Highland Perthshire, as Byrne explains. “In 1985 I got a call from the BBC in Glasgow,” he says. “It was a man called Norman McCandlish, who I didn’t know prior to that, and he says on the telephone ‘You know that Bill has taken over the Drama Department?’. I had to ask him: Bill Who?“ The Bill in question was Bill Bryden who was directing at the National Theatre in London.

A meeting with Bryden was arranged and Byrne was asked to write a six-part series for BBC One. Bryden’s idea was of a rock and roll band that was still performing, and possible characters might include a Customs and Excise man and a garage hand. Byrne takes up the story. “I said: Just hold it there!” he chuckles. “I’ll take the premise that it’s a rock and roll band that’s still playing after having had a minor hit several years before that and it’s come up again.”

Byrne readily agreed to use the title Tutti Frutti but then came the bone of contention as Bryden stipulated that an unnamed actor “the biggest star in Scotland at that time, the only one known outwith Scotland,” says Byrne, must be in the series. “I says: No, I’ve fallen out with him, I can’t do that. I can’t put this guy in it.” When Bryden asked for suggestions, Byrne replied: “Well I’ve just worked with a guy called Robbie Coltrane doing a pantomime at Borderline Theatre in Ayrshire. He says: ‘Who?’ I says: Robbie Coltrane, he’s great, he plays keyboards and sings, and he says: ‘OK, we’ll go with that.’”

So Byrne created the unforgettable characters of Danny McGlone, Suzi Kettles, band members Bomba MacAteer, Fud O’Donnell and Vincent Diver, their much put-upon roadie Dennis Sproul, Vincent’s girlfriend Glenna, their dubious manager Eddie Clockerty and his gallus assistant Miss Toner.
Byrne’s book version of Tutti Frutti has a dramatic ending. The band are on stage at The Pavilion when a distraught Vincent, in the wings, begins to pour vast amounts of industrial strength Polish vodka over his clothes and guitar. Here’s the last few lines:

‘Out of the corner of his eye Danny saw Vincent douse himself and his Gretsch in some sort of clear liquid from a big flagon. Then, to his utter astonishment, he watched him flick at the stupid lighter he’d got off Glenna. What in God’s name was the eejit playing at?

A-wop boppa loo bop, a-wop bam …’

BOOM!’

Incidentally, there was a version of Tutti Frutti in 2006 - some 20 years after the original - staged by the National Theatre of Scotland, but in the closing scene Vincent didn’t self-immolate. After the show I asked John Byrne about the changed ending. With a mysterious smile he remarked “It’s still a work in progress.”

Here's my August article in Comment, the news magazine of Highland Perthshire.

JIM REID: AN APPRECIATION

Jim Reid was a man who many considered to be one of Scotland's finest folksingers. He passed away on 6 July after a long illness but his legacy is much to be treasured.

He successfully walked the tightrope between folk purists and fans of popular Scottish song and continually delighted audiences with his own brand of homespun philosophy while simultaneously earning critical acclaim for his work in the songwriting and collecting fields.

He was equally well known as the driving force behind a new sound in Scottish music in the early Eighties. His songs are sung by countless other artists and he adapted poetry from some unjustly neglected makars and put their words back into circulation. All the while, too, he furthered the work of the Traditional Music and Song Association of Scotland.

My first article for The Scots Magazine was an interview with Jim, and his story fascinated me. Like many of his musical contemporaries, his earliest influences came from jazz. “It was mainly records of people like Nat King Cole and George Shearing, that kind of thing,” he told me. “It wasn’t really till I was about 29 or 30 that I became involved in folk music.”

The turning point came quite accidentally. “I’d a neighbour who had a couple of pals and they were thinking of creating a folk group – this would be around 1963. He’d heard me singing at a Hogmanay party and gave me a couple of records of the Clancy Brothers. And that was the start of that. A couple of the lads played guitar and I could play the moothie. I got an old guitar and played along with them and we called ourselves The Shifters.”

His native Dundee of that time knew the blind busker Blin’ Mattie and Mary Brooksbank, the poet, songwriter and jute mill activist, whose most famous composition “The Jute Mill Song” is still sung long after the demise of the industry. The group name was taken from this song. “We realised that there were The Weavers and The Spinners,” said Jim, “so we called ourselves The Shifters.”

The Shifters established a good reputation before Jim was asked to join a new group. “I wasn’t intending to get involved with another folk group,” he said, “but I did and we played for quite a number of years as well.” The new group – The Taysiders -became very popular at clubs and festivals, including Aberfeldy‘s successful ones of the Seventies.

Then came a new job in Arbroath. “During lunchtime I was keen to find a wee pub and have a quiet pint and something to eat,” he said. “I came on the Foundry Bar, and it was a great pub with a lot of great blethers going on. I learned that they had musical nights as well so I came down and joined in right away.”

By now Jim was Chairman of the Traditional Music and Song Association of Scotland and one of the TMSA’s flagship events was the Kinross Festival. He persuaded some of his fellow musicians from the Foundry Bar to enter for a competition. “They werena’ very keen at first,” he said, “but we went and we won.”

The band had hardly ever played outside the Arbroath pub and the members were unprepared for the phenomenal success of their first LP released in 1981 on the Springthyme label. The records were snapped up by a public suddenly aware of a new sound in Scottish music, a rough and ready sound much imitated since. The Foundry Bar Band appeared to bridge the gap between folk and country-dance audiences. “One week we could be playing in a folk environment,” said Jim, “and the next we could be playing in a fiddle and accordion club.”

Jim’s greatest songwriting successes were his settings of Scots vernacular poetry to his own tunes. Once again this came about by accident when he was at a big house on business.

“I was asked to wait in this room and there was a huge library,” he told me. “This old woman was really quite ill and she asked if I’d had a look at the books. I said I was really enjoying some of the little poetry books. There were four little books and she said, just you take them home with you.”

So the books were taken home and read over and over again before Jim set some of the poems to music. “The Wild Geese” from Violet Jacob and Helen Cruickshank’s “Shy Geordie” became two of Jim’s most requested songs and are included in the repertoires of many other singers.

Jim would often holiday in the Calvine area and was a weel-kent face at many local musical events. He was voted "Scots Singer of the Year" at the Scots Trad Music Awards in December 2005. A genuinely modest man, upon accepting his award he appeared to have no comment, but when prompted, smiled and said: "Nae afore time!" Indeed.

Here's my Brown's Around column in the July edition of Comment, the Highland Perthshire News Magazine.

BEFORE AND AFTER

I thought this month I’d take the opportunity of putting postscripts to a couple of previous articles in this highly influential media column, described by one critic as “second to a nun.”

In the March edition of Comment I wrote about the new production of Jolson & Co – the Musical. It opened at the King’s Theatre in Edinburgh before going on tour and told the story of Al Jolson’s career from the bright lights of Broadway to the dizzy heights of Hollywood. Jolson was the greatest entertainer the world had ever seen and the show features some of his unforgettable songs such as I’m Sitting On Top Of The World, California Here I Come, You Made Me Love You, Sonny Boy, Swanee and, of course, My Mammy.

I had the good fortune of seeing the show in a packed Dundee Rep Theatre and it exceeded all my expectations. From the opening bars of the take-no-prisoners 8-piece band led by Greg Arrowsmith it was sheer entertainment, with Donna Steele excellent in all the female roles, including Mae West, who got all the best one-liners, and Christopher Howell similarly so in the other male roles. Allan Stewart as the man himself more than lived up to his description by GMTV thus: “Allan Stewart as Al Jolson is the closest you’ll get to the real thing. He is extraordinary. He is breathtaking.”

My main reason for featuring the show in my March column was to discuss the pros and cons of the blackface debate (not in a hill-farming context, you understand), but in such a fast moving show as this there would have been no time for the application and removal of the burnt cork or - unlikely - whatever scientific formula has replaced it.
The show finished its tour of the UK in June but is bound to be heading out again.

Then there were the Andrews Sisters. In last month’s magazine I ushered in the arrival of The Swingcats to Pitlochry Festival Theatre with their 2009 Spring/Summer tour Hold Tight! A Tribute To The Andrews Sisters.

It was another excellent evening’s entertainment with the girls - the Scots trio of singer/actors Nicola Auld, Laura Ellis and Alyson Orr - in fine form both individually and collectively. Only drawback was the number of empty seats in the auditorium. Put it down to The Swingcats being relatively unknown in this part of the world, blame the recession if you will, but one fact is certain: when the girls return to Pitlochry there will probably be a full house to greet them once the word-of-mouth rave reviews circulate.

And it wasn‘t only the girls, for male help added an engine room of double bass and drums. But in best showbiz traditions of keeping the best to the end, allow me to rave further about pianist and musical arranger Karen MacIver. Very much one of the girls costume-wise, she electrified the audience with her boogie-woogie piano style and sure touch on the tender love ballads.

A graduate in classical piano from the RSAMD, her CV ranges from regular work with the Royal Scottish National Orchestra and other orchestras all over the UK to playing keyboards on The Three Degrees UK tour. She has gained many commissions for theatre and musical compositions and has worked as a musician under Carl Davis, playing his famous film scores and also on the RSNO recordings of John Williams’ Star Wars trilogy.

Which just about leaves me time to draw to your attention two forthcoming attractions at the end of this month.

In Aberfeldy Town Hall on Tuesday 28 July, it’s the return of The McCalmans. And it might just be your last chance to see these highly musical and hugely entertaining masters of Scottish folk music. Last chance? Well group leader Ian McCalman has formally announced that he is to retire at the end of 2010. You’ll encounter 3-part vocal harmonies, top-class instrumental playing and - essentially - wit and humour. There’s not too many folk groups who can go straight from a bothy ballad or muckle sang or patriotic rebel-rouser into one made famous by The Andrews Sisters or The Ink Spots, but that’s what to expect. Show starts at 8 pm and there’s more information on www.the-mccalmans.com.

And finally, Birnam Institute hosts the supremely talented Karine Polwart on 31 July.
Following the breakthrough of her debut album Faultlines, which won Best Album at the 2005 BBC Folk Awards, she has developed into a songwriter who can combine ancient traditions with sharp contemporary observations. The Karine Polwart Trio begin at 8 pm, tickets are £14/£12 and further information is available by phoning (01350) 727674, email: Admin@birnaminstitute.com or on the web at www.birnaminstitute.com.

Here's my Brown's Around column in the June edition of Comment, the Highland Perthshire News Magazine.

HOLD TIGHT!

If you don’t believe there’s a market in musical nostalgia just witness the touring singers and groups parading the sights and sounds of just about any decade from the Sixties to the Nineties. (My spellcheck came up with Nonentities for that last word: is it trying to tell me something?)

And we’re talking about the real performers, not tribute groups like Bjorn Again for Abba, the Bootleg Beatles, the hundreds of Elvis impersonators and the Robert Burns tribute band Sham o’ Chanter. Sorry, made up that last one.

But as Anno gets even more Domini, sometimes the links with these original bands can get rather tenuous. There are three or four groups on the go calling themselves The Drifters, and some of the Sixties bands may contain only one person who was on the scene at that time, and even then he was the roadie’s cousin.

But this month we’re talking about the music of the Thirties, Forties and Fifties, and, in particular, a trio of American close harmony singers who became the best-selling female vocal group in the history of popular music, making and setting records that remain unsurpassed to this day.

Want examples? Well, they sold almost 100 million discs from just over 600 recorded tunes. They made the Billboard charts with 113 hits of which 46 reached Top Ten status, which was more than Elvis or The Beatles. They made 17 Hollywood movies, which is more than any other singing group in motion picture history, as well as guesting on every major radio and television show of the 1950s and 1960s.

If you haven’t guessed already, allow me to introduce The Andrews Sisters: LaVerne, Maxene and Patty, all born in Minnesota to a Greek immigrant father and a Norwegian-American mother.

They started their career as imitators of an earlier successful singing group, the Boswell Sisters, before finding national stardom in 1937 with their radio broadcasts and recordings, most notably with Bei Mir Bist Du Schön which sold a million copies, making them the first female vocal group to achieve a Gold Record award. They followed this success with a string of best-sellers over the next two years and became a household name by 1940.

Some of their most popular hits were The Beer Barrel Polka; Hold Tight; Beat Me Daddy, Eight to the Bar (not what you’re thinking: there was no child abuse in those days); I'll Be With You In Apple Blossom Time; Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy; Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree and Rum and Coca-Cola.

The Andrews Sisters specialised in swing, boogie-woogie and novelty songs featuring their trademark vocal syncopations, but they were equally at home with jazz, ballads, folk, country and religious songs and their versatility allowed them to record with artists such as Bing Crosby (the only recording artist of the 1940s to sell more records than the girls), Danny Kaye, Dick Haymes, Al Jolson and Les Paul.

Their music is preserved for us on record and DVD but if your memories of them are as fond as mine, you might be interested in a date at Pitlochry Festival Theatre on Sunday 14 June when The Swingcats are in town on their 2009 Spring/Summer tour Hold Tight! A Tribute To The Andrews Sisters.

The Swingcats are the Scots trio of singer/actors Nicola Auld, Laura Ellis and Alyson Orr, and we’re promised a re-creation of that magical era of Forties swing featuring the girls plus their trio of top-class musicians led by pianist/arranger Karen MacIver in an evening of wonderful songs, dance routines and the costumes of the day before yesterday.

They have appeared alongside jazz greats such as Annie Ross and Martin Taylor and have performed recently with The Glenn Miller Orchestra UK. Other highlights include shows in Glasgow’s Royal Concert Hall, The Glasgow Jazz Festival and trips to Monte Carlo, Dubai and Marrakech.

They’ve been described as “Great singers and good fun too!" by Desmond Carrington of BBC Radio 2, while the Press & Journal praised their “Smooth Vocal Talent”, with Glasgow’s Evening Times going for “Sensational vocalists”.

But, as ever, judge for yourself. Sunday 14 June is the date, the show starts at 8 pm and tickets are £15 available online at www.pitlochry.org.uk or from the PFT Box Office on (01796) 484626.

Here's my Brown's Around column in the May edition of Comment, the Highland Perthshire News Magazine.

KITCHEN SYNCOPATION

I’m a sometime listener to Classic FM these days, and it reminds me of that maestro of the classical piano, Mr Les Dawson, who used to preface his act by informing his audience “If music be the food of love, welcome to a diet sheet.”

It’s a way of deflating audience expectations. It‘s a way of getting your retaliation in first. Allegedly, the great Danny Blanchflower, captain of the majestic Tottenham Hotspur football team of the early Sixties, used to exhort his men to equalise before the other team scored. But then he was Irish.

It’s also about giving the audience something unexpected. Think of Susan Boyle: not young; ‘dowdy‘; never been kissed; and possessed of a tremendous talent. Now contrast her with me …

Next month I have great pleasure in presenting my one-man show This is Scotland … and You’re Welcome to It! for the fifth year in succession. It’s been described, mainly by me, as an irreverent but affectionate look and listen in words and music to that strange country which we know as Scotland, with particular emphasis on Highland Perthshire.

Is it a concert? Well, no, not really, though there is someone performing. Is it a ceilidh? No, there’s no opportunity for you to Strip your Willow in public. Is it a sing-song? Yes, if you can catch on to those songs with choruses.

So what is it NOT? Well, it definitely isn’t a Highland Night. Granny’s Hielan’ Hame will remain unoccupied for the evening, fans of the Wild Rover will find him electronically tagged and safe at home with his bottle of Buckie, and country music addicts will discover the Blanket on the Ground is still in the car boot. Incidentally, what do you get if you play a country song backwards? Answer: Your job and your wife back.

As the evening unfolds, you might find out the true story of the goings-on at the Killiecrankie Burns Supper, discover the links between Pontius Pilate and Togas-R-Us in Fortingall, hear how a Birnam rodent changed his name to Peter and became the brains behind a worldwide publishing empire or gasp in awe at the story of The Calvine UFO.

You might marvel at Bonnie Prince Charlie (had to mention him; he stayed a couple of nights at the venue) and how he sold the blockbusting saga of his exploits over the sea to Skye Digital. And don’t miss the hitherto unknown tale of Loch Tayside painter and decorator Lenny McGlinchy, who travelled to Rome, took on a more Italian name, and gave Dan Brown the inspiration for his book: The McGlinchy Code. And prepare to be shocked by the revelation that females were paid less than males in the old days of the high summer pastures as we ask if there was a glass shieling in operation.

I’m delighted to be once again in the magnificent setting of Castle Menzies, and this year’s show is being presented in the original 16th Century Kitchen, complete with roaring log fire and matching audience, and where the labour-saving devices of the day were called servants.

This is Scotland … and You’re Welcome to It! is presented at 8 pm each Thursday evening from 4 June until 24 September, though there‘s no show on 6 August when the boys and girls of Clan Menzies do their own bit of Homecoming. The fully-licensed bar is open before, during and after the show. Tickets are £6 and are on sale at the venue, or may be reserved by phoning Castle Menzies on (01887) 820982.

And finally, next time you’re in the castle, have a look at the Visitors’ Book. There is an enthusiastic entry from a couple visiting from Ireland. Now, I know you’re thinking this is going to be an ethnic joke … and you’re quite correct. But as a Scot, I’m a member of one of the most ethnically stereotyped races ever, so I can only quote what is written in the book. It says “A once in a lifetime experience. Hope it will be the first of many.“ And the name isn’t Blanchflower.

Here's my Brown's Around column in the April edition of Comment, the Highland Perthshire News Magazine.

TOGETHER FOREVER

There’s a by now overused quote about the Swinging Sixties to the effect that if you can remember them, you weren’t there. I remember them as well as I can remember anything these days and the music of that era had a great effect on me. I even learned to play guitar in the hope of emulating my hero, Hank Marvin of The Shadows.

But as maturity dawned - it’s still a late sunrise - I grew dissatisfied with the pop music of the day. Heavy Metal and Glam Rock held no fascination for me, nor did the contemplative navel-gazing of the up and coming singer/songwriters.

Then all was made clear. I had always enjoyed traditional Scots music - still do (oh, you’ve noticed?) but in the early Seventies I came across the work of a young man from Fife who wrote about people and places and feelings with which I could identify.
He had travelled, like me, with Woody Guthrie from the great Atlantic Ocean to the wide Pacific Shore but to paraphrase a saying from Scots folksinger Josh MacRae, "I was only 24 hours from Falkirk" just didn't have that authentic ring to it.

He wrote about paper mill workers, about men in a pub with a dart board as their God, about the sketcher and the last train, and about you and me sitting in a bus in the front seat at the top. And he set them to his own very catchy and memorable melodies, becoming arguably one of the best writers of popular song ever to grace this country.

Rab Noakes was born in St Andrews in 1947 and, as he says, enjoyed the benefits of growing up as rock’n’roll was born and of being present as new sounds, from Little Richard to Woody Guthrie, drifted across the Atlantic.

After short lived Civil Service careers in Glasgow and London, he followed the leads of such Scottish artists as Bert Jansch and The Incredible String Band and began touring in Britain and Denmark with music embracing pop, country and folk. As his career evolved he became well known on the folk music scene, playing as a solo artist on albums for Archie Fisher and Barbara Dickson, and with bands well-known in Highland Perthshire such as the Wayfarers and The Great Fife Road Show.

His songs were recorded by other artists and he worked with some of the luminaries of the recording world including producer Bob Johnston, who introduced Bob Dylan to working in Nashville with the Blonde on Blonde album. Rab himself recorded in Nashville with acclaimed producer Elliot Mazer and the resulting album Red Pump Special remains a collectors’ item. By the way, I lent my LP copy of the album to someone at Heartland FM and didn’t get it back. Grrr ...

Like many of the ilk, Rab disappeared from the scene but came bouncing back in the mid Eighties when he was appointed to run BBC Radio Scotland’s music and entertainment department, and his high-profile music production activity included shows such as John Byrne’s Your Cheatin’ Heart and Elaine C. Smith’s TV series.

In 1995 he and his wife Stephanie Pordage set up Neon Productions. “We started by working on commissions for radio programmes, which we still do,” he says, “and we moved also into TV work.” This was followed by the creation of their own Neon record label.

A leap forward for Neon was the release of Karine Polwart’s much acclaimed Faultlines album in 2004, which was their first with another artist. “It is an area we wish to develop, using both my managing and record producing skills,” says Rab. “I never want to stop my own singing, so it also gives me a platform to continue doing that.”

And he is very generous in putting back his skills and knowledge into the music business. He sat on the Scottish Arts Council for four years and was appointed to the Joint Board of SAC & Scottish Screen in 2006. He is also an elected member of the Executive Committee of the Musicians’ Union but has still found time to lead workshops in Aberfeldy Recreation Centre and judge songwriting competitions in various parts of Scotland.

And the good news for Comment readers is that Rab Noakes is appearing at Pitlochry Festival Theatre on Friday 8 May at 8 pm in the intimate setting of the Ben-y-Vrackie Bar. Tickets are £12.50 and available from the PFT Box Office on (01796) 484626. With his musical pedigree it’s an evening not to be missed … and he’s much more approachable than Dylan.

Here's my Brown's Around column in the March edition of Comment, the Highland Perthshire News Magazine.

BLACK-AFFRONTED

The title of this month’s article is a fine old Scots term for being mortified. Did you recognise it? Did you accept it as a well-worn and well-liked turn of phrase, dating from who knows when? Or were you embarrassed by its possible racist overtones?

The reason for my mentioning this centres on a new theatrical production involving the life story of one of the world’s greatest entertainers, a man whose work is rated by many, including me, as top drawer.

The new production is Jolson & Co – the Musical, which has opened at the King’s Theatre in Edinburgh before touring. It tells the story, as it says, of Al Jolson’s career from the bright lights of Broadway to the dizzy heights of Hollywood. Jolson was the greatest entertainer the world had ever seen and the show features some of his unforgettable songs such as I’m Sitting On Top Of The World, California Here I Come, You Made Me Love You, Sonny Boy, Swanee and, of course, My Mammy.

It stars the excellent Allan Stewart in the main role, and he is described by GMTV thus: “Allan Stewart as Al Jolson is the closest you’ll get to the real thing. He is extraordinary. He is breathtaking.”

All right so far. But here’s the catch. Controversy has been stirred up by the decision of the show’s producer that Stewart will not black up. Producer Michael Harrison has said: "Blacking up is historically correct, but in this day and age we are not out to offend anyone." The actors' union Equity, which opposes the practice of blacking up, has said it "might not actively object" to the show.

One school of thought believes that the producer's decision removes Al Jolson from the context of his era and denies the fact that blackface and minstrelsy have been staples of western entertainment since the 19th century. Others maintain that blacking up is an insult in the present climate of race relations.

Pause for a quick journey back on the time machine. Before the American Revolution, white men began using blackface as a comic gimmick, and the banjo became a prop. That much maligned instrument has a long and noble lineage. Drums with strings stretched over them can be traced throughout the Far East, the Middle East and Africa almost from the beginning of time. They were either strummed, bowed like a fiddle or plucked like a harp depending on their development and these instruments spread to Europe. The banjo, as we would recognise it, was made by African slaves who were forcibly removed to those countries engaged in the slave trade.

By the early part of the 19th century, minstrelsy became a very popular form of entertainment and the top names of the day included Joel Walker Sweeney & his Sweeney Minstrels and the Virginia Minstrels. In addition to one or more banjo players, minstrel shows usually featured a fiddler, a bones player and a drummer or tambourine shaker.

After the Civil War, soldiers took the instruments home to almost every corner of America but the banjo was looked down upon by the gentry. In 1866, the Boston Daily Evening Voice classified the banjo as an instrument in "the depth of popular degradation" and an instrument fit only for "the jig-dancing lower classes of the community." However, the banjo soon became a "universal favourite" with over 10,000 instruments in use in Boston alone, largely due to a sudden rise in popularity on its introduction as a parlour instrument.

Fast forward again to the present. The practice of blacking up was a major part of Jolson’s and others’ stage act. And, incredibly, not only white performers. It was a familiar practice among white and black performers alike in pre-civil rights America.

I can sympathise with those who object to its lack of sensitivity, but I see it as no more than a costume. After all, I’m a Scot who occasionally wears national dress on stage. I’m not necessarily impressed or delighted when I see comic portrayals of bekilted Scots with See You Jimmy hats and wallpaper brushes for sporrans, but I don’t think it should be a capital offence.

To do a show about Al Jolson without blacking up is to do a show about Andy Stewart wearing a sports jacket and flannels. It’s Roy Rogers in a lounge suit or The Mikado in trackie bottoms and trainers.

But judge for yourself. Jolson & Co - The Musical tours in England from 10 March until the beginning of May but plays Dundee Rep Theatre from 5-9 May.

Here's the February Brown's Around column in the Highland Perthshire news magazine.

RABBIE-TING ON

Under normal circumstances, the February issue of deathless prose masquerading as popular journalism and known near and near as Brown’s Around would have finished with Mr Burns from Ayrshire for the season.

Thoughts of warlocks and witches, red, red roses, cutty sarks and cowrin’, tim’rous beasties would normally have gone for another year, bringing forth in this writer a disappointment in having to limit the universal truths of the man to just one calendar month, though with a bonus late licence on the last day of the year. Still, I suppose Santa Claus and St Andrew might feel equally hard done by. Nice to see, incidentally, a photographer offering prints from Tam o’ Shanter either free-standing in a frame or wall-mounted on his grey mare Meg. But I digress.

Normally, this time of year would herald a sharp decline in supermarket binge haggis scoffing; kilt hire shops would revert to early closing afternoons and librarians would take back into stock well-thumbed copies of the Poems & Songs before trying to promote the reading of the bard all year round by copying that puppy advert - remember A Haggis Isn’t Just For January? - nor me.

However, as you both know well, this is no ordinary year but is that of the Homecoming and so the Rabbie caravan will rumble on through the seasons. The haggis will have more addresses than the Beckhams, Meg will win the keystane o’ the brig in the nick of time again and again, and some of the most wonderful love songs will be sung. And for that I am extremely grateful.

But now that St Valentine has taken his bow and shuffled off also, what can we celebrate locally in Highland Perthshire? Well, why don’t we concentrate very hard, as befits the best small nation in … er, Scotland, and mark the anniversary of one of this county’s, and this country’s, finest musical sons?

We rather missed out in March 2007 which marked the 200th anniversary of the death of Niel Gow, the Strathbraan-born fiddler, composer and collector, who, along with his four sons helped to develop the popularity of Scottish fiddle music in the 18th and 19th centuries and is largely responsible for turning folk-fiddle playing into a professional art.

His life is well documented and there is some excellent background material available at the Dunkeld Cathedral website on www.dunkeldcathedral.org.uk. As well as being a renowned folk-fiddler (sometimes mistakenly regarded as a derogatory term), his playing was much admired by the aristocracy and he was in demand for society balls and dances. He spent all his life, however, in or around Inver.

In 1798, an English traveller named Dr Garnett gave us this description of Gow’s playing. “We were favoured by a visit of Niel Gow, a singular and well known character, and a celebrated performer on the violin. His only music is that of his native country, which he has acquired solely by ear, being entirely self-taught, but he plays the Scotch airs with a spirit and enthusiasm peculiar to himself. He is now in his 72nd year and has played publicly at Assemblies on his instrument for more than half a century. He favoured us with several pieces of Scotch music. He excels most in the Strathspeys but he executes the laments with a great deal of pathos.”

Then there was the famous visit from Robert Burns himself in 1787. What a session that would have been! Burns was on his Highland tour at the time and recorded the visit thus: “Breakfast with Dr Stewart - Niel Gow plays. A short stout-built figure, with greyish hair shed on his honest social brow, an interesting face marking strong sense, kind open-heartedness mixed with unmistrusting simplicity.”

But what’s so special or relevant about Gow in the 21st century? Pete Clark is a local fiddler and fiddle tutor who is internationally renowned for his recordings of Gow tunes. “When Gow was alive, he provided both entertainment and inspiration to all those he encountered,“ says Pete. “His music continues to entertain and inspire on an international stage two hundred years after his death.“

There is already an annual Niel Gow Festival but perhaps a step beyond this might be taken. Why not make this geographical area the centre of attraction which it deserves to be by taking a hint from Pitlochry Festival Theatre’s very successful Winter Words event and staging, say, a Spring Notes Festival to attract not only fiddle enthusiasts but also book lovers, wildlife enthusiasts, walkers, good food enthusiasts and others?

This year’s Niel Gow Festival will be held in Dunkeld and Birnam over the weekend of 20-22 March and will include recitals, concerts, workshops and sessions. Details of artistes appearing were unavailable at time of press but see the updates on the Events Diary at www.thetaybank.com.

Here's my first Brown's Around column for 2009 in Comment, the Highland Perthshire news magazine.

I’M COMING HOME (I’VE DONE MY TIME)

Firstly, may I wish a very happy New Year 2009 to readers of this column - yes, both of you - and compliment you once again on your impeccable taste in literature. Last year I jaloused if you were wondering how I was going to angle this month’s article to present yet another fascinating insight into the genius of Robert Burns, but this time there’s no problem, for ‘tis the Year of Homecoming.

Already plans are in hand to welcome the descendants of those hardy souls who left their native land and sailed away to form the Scottish Diaspora. Picture, if you will, their triumphant homecoming to the capital, where they’re met by an official party and asked that most important of Edinburgh questions: “You’ll have had your tea?”

Have you been impressed by THAT television advert for the event? I’m not sure if I would travel three thousand miles or more just to see Lulu (or, with respect to the lady, even next door) but I was impressed by Sam Torrance’s warbling. In fact, he could be a pretty good replacement for Pierce Brosnan in a Scottish remake of that Abba show Michty Me! Or, of course, Bye Bye Birdie.

And what about Sir Sean? Ah, the man certainly has style. Incidentally, there is an article about him in the current issue of a movie magazine in which he talks about his first-ever film role, long before he became James Bond, Double O Seven (not to be confused with James Hornby, Double O Gauge.) In it Sir Sean played a man who had been married for twenty years. Then he graduated to speaking parts.

But let me turn to the real reason for the Year of Homecoming. It’s a bold plan designed to bring visitors to Scotland and it’s hung on the coat-peg of the 250th anniversary of the birth of Robert Burns.

Did you like the ‘coat-peg’ metaphor? It reminds me of an old farmer in town for the day who had strayed into a rather trendy winebar in a student area. A rather obnoxious young man was extolling in very flowery language the virtues of a continental movie he had seen, ending with the statement: “Of course, it‘s a metaphor for the human condition and I defy anyone to contradict me.” The farmer let out a laugh and the student glared at him: “You … you don‘t even know what a metaphor is, “ said the student. The farmer finished his pint slowly and turned to the young man. “A metaphor?” he said. “Well, let me put it this way. Your arse and my boot have never met afore, but any time now …”

So back to Rabbie. How will we be celebrating the birth of one of Scotland’s gallant band of international superstars? Well, the Homecoming Scotland 2009 programme will kick off formally on the weekend of Burns’ 250th anniversary with events planned in key locations across Scotland. Highlights will include the official Homecoming Burns Supper in Ayrshire, natch, which will provide the focal point of a campaign to create the world’s biggest (virtual) Burns Supper. Ah, dear reader, I bring you the facts; I do not ask why.

And Glasgow’s Celtic Connections festival - this country’s biggest winter music event - will showcase major international contemporary performers, some of whom are not Eddi Reader, who have been influenced by Burns, whilst in Dumfries thousands will take to the streets to celebrate the Bard with a lantern procession and fire show which will wind through the heart of the town and other key Burns landmark sites. Of course, fire and Burns. They go together hand in (asbestos) glove.

But in this part of the world we’ll probably stick to the time-honoured traditions, with the only flames coming from Holy Willie’s candle or because of another power cut. Our Burns Suppers will be held in village halls and fancy hotels alike and I hope you find one and have an enjoyable time.

You will not be alone, especially in the Bonnybridge or Roswell Burns Club but that’s another story. From Dallas to Dundee, Karachi to Kirkcaldy, Darkest Africa to the North Pole, people will meet to celebrate the life of the man who rose from the humblest of beginnings to be represented by more statues than any other person in world history. Finally - and this is important - eat the haggis then read the book!

And here's my final Brown's Around article for 2008 in Highland Perthshire's news magazine.

CHAMPAGNE COCKTAIL

What’s pink, French and the bubbles from it sometimes get up your nose? That’s right: this month’s Brown’s Around article. Let me explain.

I’m writing this on the first day of this month, the day after St Andrew’s Day and - according to my diary - it’s a holiday. Hmmm. I don’t see much evidence of that, but I call to mind a little poem what I writ when Gordon Broon (no relation) was in his previous office and refused to sanction a public holiday in Scotland to celebrate this country’s Saint because it wasn’t a British occasion:

When Gordon Broon was Chancellor
He said: “St Andrew’s Day
Is not a British custom
So, holiday? No way!”

And so I sent a letter
Of compromise, remember?
“We’ll make it Churchill’s birthday -
The Thirtieth of November.”

He didn’t reply.

Now to the French bit. I’ve been a champion of the works of Irish composer Percy French for a long time, since first hearing some of his comic songs sung on television in Neolithic times by the man with the knitted pullovers, Val Doonican. At my concerts and recitals I endeavour to educate as well as entertain, and regale listeners with some of his lesser-sung (all right, unknown) songs, including such gems as Slattery’s Mounted Foot, Come Back Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff, Abdul Abulbul Amir and - hey! one you do know! The Mountains of Mourne.

Normally I find little response to the great man’s work but a short while ago I was booked to appear at a rather elegant Pitlochry hotel. Only when I got there did I discover that not only were the guests from Northern Ireland, but they were all members of the Percy French Appreciation Society. I think my astonishment at who they were was matched only by theirs at this man in a kilt singing our hero’s work.

And, finally, the pink bit. Bear with me while I sketch in the background. When a friend of mine in Dunkeld, Fiona Blakeborough, was diagnosed with breast cancer, she organised various local fundraising events. When the illness returned earlier this year and she was admitted to hospital, her plans to hold a Pink Ceilidh were put on the back burner. However, her 14-year-old daughter Lauren, a pupil at Breadalbane Academy, resolved there and then that the ceilidh would go ahead, and set about organising the whole event.

With the help of her granny, Winnie Sinclair, now officially “retired” but who formerly played piano with many local Scottish dance bands, Lauren hired the Birnam Institute and set about assembling the artistes, arranging raffle and auction prizes and - vitally - selling tickets.

I was delighted to be asked to compere the evening and so, on 21 November, piper Gus Clark marched into a packed hall to begin an evening which few people present will forget.

Lauren’s school friends have their own ceilidh band - Knots and Crosses - led by fiddler Hannah Fisher and including teachers Peter Butter and Melvyn Turnbull and responsible adult Brian Weir, and dancers needed no cajoling to take the floor.

Local minister Fraser Penny, accompanied by Winnie on piano, sang some beautiful Scots love songs before ex-pupil Fin Moore delivered an excellent set of tunes on the small pipes. Then there was another gasp of admiration as young Liam Cassidy, with obligatory pink hat at a rakish angle, sat down at the piano and delighted the audience with a couple of jazz influenced tunes.

It was a hard act to follow but May Brown stepped up and sang beautifully (bias? what bias?) before Highland dancers Amy Kennedy and Megan Winton demonstrated their skill, and justified the many hours of practice they put in with their dance teacher, Jean Swanston, a lady whose contribution to the cultural life of this part of the world is immeasurable.

Then came a highlight for many of the older members of the audience as Winnie was joined by Peter Stewart for the return of Stewart Blend and another packed floor of dancers.

It’s not often that I comment on a raffle, but this one took over three-quarters of an hour to present! Aided and abetted by a squad of raffle prize deliverers, I did my best to zip through the dozens of bottles, boxes and envelopes which took up about one-third of the stage. In no time at all, it was past midnight and no one had left the hall.

It was a very emotional occasion when Fiona came up on stage to say a few words of thanks and, reluctantly, daughter Lauren joined her in the spotlight to receive a bouquet of flowers for all she had done. An occasion to be remembered it most certainly was, with around £2,000 raised for a very deserving charity. The youth of today? Wonderful.

Here's my Brown's Around article in the November issue of Comment, the Highland Perthshire news magazine.

BUSK, BUSK BONNIE LASSIE

Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. How often has that phrase come back to haunt through the pages of history? Examples spring to mind such as Napoleon’s bid to rule the world, and his sad final quote: “I can’t tell Mars from Elba”, through to the Charge of the Light Brigade, Custer’s Last Stand and, more recently, the London Olympics.

But this column deals with the musical side of the world and so, dear Reader, come with me to the dark streets of a little Highland Perthshire town for the Pitlochry Autumn Festival.

A short coach journey up the road to Faskally Woods led some 20,000 visitors (looks even better than in words: twenty thousand visitors) to The Enchanted Forest, and to tie in with this sound and light extravaganza, some enterprising people in the town set up their own 17-day festival to ensure that visitors arriving in Pitlochry at, say, 6 pm had something to do before their coach left at, say, 9 pm.

This ‘something to do’ included wining and dining, some fairly late-night shopping, and some entertainment provided by street buskers. This is where I enter the plot, and where, if you’re still with me, you’ll appreciate the first sentence of this article.

When I was contracted to entertain for 17 nights in a row - the entire duration of the Festival - I had visions of the old-style buskers who would perform in front of cinema or theatre queues, putting a smile on their faces as they lined up on balmy summer evenings when all was wonderful.

The reality was more harsh although my pitch (busking argot for performing area of indeterminate size) seemed ideal. I was allocated the front door of that well-respected emporium Macnaughtons of Pitlochry on Station Road. Those readers au fait with Pitlochry’s retail layout will know that there is an architecturally pleasing canopy or arcade outside said shop, and there I took refuge from the rain which seemed to fall every evening.

The kind and generous proprietors provided me with a power supply for my public address system. I was tempted to ask for a microwave, a 3-bar electric heater and a kettle, but decided to invoke the old Brown pioneering spirit that won the West and disregard the elements.

My faith in this wonderful climate of ours was rewarded. The rain disappeared by the final week, to be replaced by some of the coldest weather so far, with snow and frost severely hampering my quickfire Claptonesque guitar playing by making me drop my pick on several occasions as my fingers began to resemble a pack of frozen sausages.

Audiences were an eye-opener. Remember, these people were about to join coaches taking them to the highlight of their visit - The Enchanted Forest - or bringing them back after that wonderful experience. When they turned the corner and saw me belting out the hits of past, present and never, they would walk past staring at a fixed point on their shoes, remembering the golden rule of street survival - Never Make Eye Contact with a Busker.

Or they would approach from the coach rank itself, spot me from a distance and cross over the street, smiling happily or waving to me as they skipped along in time to the music.

Although I had been contracted to play, I decided to raise some money for charity by leaving my guitar case open, as buskers do, with a couple of signs advising people that all donations were going to Sense Scotland, the deafblind charity. By the end of the Festival I had raised over £170, which justified my being there.

My thanks to the good people who donated money, who encouraged me and who asked questions about the songs. The stewards were wonderful, especially Irene and Tony, and there was shopkeeper Mark who plied me with coffee. There were the regulars: the man who walked his son’s dog then went home to his own house; the lady on the Bankfoot bus who always waved, stopping once to take my photograph. There were parties of snap-happy Japanese students, and, especially, two young German visitors who have been coming to Scotland for 16 years. They contacted me via my website saying they had seen me perform last summer and where could they see me again between 28 and 31 October? I explained the unusual gig and there they were, having bought tickets for The Enchanted Forest over the internet.

So, next year? Probably, but there’s a supplement in the Radio Times advertising a state of the art hand warmer. If I start saving now …

Here's my October Brown's Around article for Comment, the Highland Perthshire news magazine.

SKY(E)’S THE LIMIT

Have you tuned into BBC Alba yet? That’s a trick question, really, because you have to be a Sky subscriber to find Channel 168. But leaving aside for the moment the thorny issues of whether it should be on Freeview or, indeed, whether there should be a dedicated open-to-all channel to enable all of Scotland - and why not the world? - to see it, I have been impressed.

Musically, it looks like being compulsive viewing and by a small coincidence I’ve just watched a programme about Gaelic documentaries past and present which began with a man whose newest album has just made its way to my letterbox over the sea from Skye.

The man in question is accordionist and keyboards player Blair Douglas who comes from Braes on the Isle of Skye and was in at the beginning of such Gaelic musical institutions as Mactalla, Cliar and - most famously - Runrig. In 1996 he released an album called A Summer in Skye for which he had written and arranged all the material. The album was met with overwhelming critical and popular approval and Blair Douglas‘s musical future was assured.

A year later that future looked bleak after fire devastated his island home. Lost forever were all his musical instruments, his written music and his records. Following on from the death of his mother earlier that summer, it left Blair Douglas with little heart for the fight that lay ahead. But helped by the kindness and generosity of family, friends, fans and strangers alike, he gradually turned the corner and in 2004 released an award-winning album called Angels From the Ashes on Runrig’s own Ridge Records label.

I first met Blair Douglas in 1988 when I was a member of the Aberfeldy & District Gaelic Choir which had just astounded the Gaelic-speaking world (and themselves) by winning the world championship Lovat & Tullibardine Shield at the National Mod held during Glasgow’s Garden Festival. Also triumphant that day - and, hence, joining the Choir on stage for the Winners’ Concert - was a trio who had won a competition for a new Gaelic folk song. The kilt-less threesome comprised singing icon Arthur Cormack, pony-tailed electric guitarist Chaz Stewart, and a brilliant beret-clad accordionist called Blair Douglas. That was my first indication that though a steadfast champion of traditional Gaelic he may be, he will never be slow to absorb the new influences necessary to keep the culture alive.

Hence my pleasure at the launch of a new album, titled in three languages: Stay Strong/Bithibh Laidir/Rester Fort and on it Blair takes up the story where he left off: new music celebrating his Gaelic, Scots and Cajun influences.

For the album he has assembled an international roster of musicians and singers and the recording took place in such diverse parts of the world as Glasgow, Skye, Orkney, Sweden, Louisiana, Nashville and Nova Scotia.

There isn’t a weak track, from the percussive attention-grabbing opening of Martyn in Mind, dedicated to the much lamented Martyn Bennett, to the poignant final track Tonn nan Deur (Wave of Tears), in memory of three generations of a Uist family drowned in a storm in 2005. Other song topics range from ‘S Barail Leam in which the female lists the vanities of your typical Skye man, Taladh an Iasgair, a fisherman’s lullaby, Ceitidh Fiona’s Waltz, written for his daughter, and Mabou, nam Mile Baidh, in praise of the Cape Breton city of that name.

And the singers? Well, there’s Eddi Reader with a beautiful The Soldier’s Lullaby, written for Rose Gentle, whose son Gordon died in Iraq, Runrig’s Rory Macdonald with the very distinctive vocals on Lewis Love, Michael Marra getting to be like his mentor Dr John and singing in French Rester Fort, La Nouvelle-Orleans (Stay Strong, New Orleans) and there are also excellent contributions from Kathleen MacInnes, Arthur Cormack, Bruce Guthro and Cookie Rankin.

Listen out for multi-instrumentalist and musical genius Malcolm Jones, Pitlochry piper Gary West, fiddlers Gordon Gunn, Ron Kerr, Mairi Rankin and Wendy MacIsaac, Eddie McGuire on flute and Dougie Pincock on whistle. And taking care of the beefier side of things, such as Keep the Ceilidh Funky (subtitled Mister James Brown’s Welcome to the Ceilidh House), don’t forget The New Orleans Nightcrawlers.

All the titles on the album are written and composed by Blair Douglas and it’s co-produced by Blair and Robin Rankin, described by Blair as ‘the master craftsman.’
It’s an awesome album and keeps the shy Mr Douglas at the very forefront of Scottish music.

(Stay Strong/Bithibh Laidir/Rester Fort is released on Ridge Records, 1 York Street, Aberdeen AB11 5DL, website www.ridge-records.com and is available at all good record stores.)

Here's my September article in Comment, the local news magazine. It's marking the recent death of bandleader Jim Johnstone.

LORD OF THE DANCE

The death last month of bandleader Jim Johnstone saw a further depletion in the ranks of the survivors of the Golden Age of Scottish Country Dance music.

It’s sometimes difficult for us in this sophisticated 21st century to realise how popular the music was, but in its heyday between the1940s and the 1960s, Scottish musicians played to stadium-sized crowds around the world and reached radio and television audiences in their tens of millions.

Jim Johnstone was born in Tranent, near the place where Johnny Cope had his little bit of bother with the Jacobites in 1745, and there was never any doubt about his musical future as his father and three uncles all played 5 row Continental accordions.

Jim began lessons at the age of 9 but because the only 5 row boxes available were big, clumsy pre-war models, he started instead on a piano accordion with the intention of changing over later.

The lessons were conducted by one of Edinburgh’s most renowned teachers, Chrissie Leatham, whose son, Owen Murray, is now Professor of Accordion at the Royal Academy of Music in London. Jim began learning continental classics, supplementing this at home with traditional music and listening to 78s on the gramophone.

The breakthrough came at age 13 when Jim’s dad heard a radio announcement looking for young musicians to broadcast on the BBC. Jim auditioned successfully and in May 1950 on Children’s Hour he played Dundee City Police Pipe Band, McDonald’s Awa’ Tae the War and The Black Mask Waltz. Two years later, his friend and fellow Boy Scout, Bobby Colgan, bought a set of drums and the duo began playing for dances and weddings.

One Monday evening in 1962 came a phone call from another doyen of the dance band scene, Andrew Rankine, asking Jim if he was available to do a “broadcast on Wednesday”. It went well and he was asked to join the band, whose line-up at that time was Andrew, Ron Gonnella, Billy Thom, Tom McTague and Bill Hendry. “What a swing the band had,” recalled Jim later, “but what else would you expect with a jazz rhythm section like that?”

In 1963 Andrew Rankine emigrated to Australia and Jim formed his own band before joining the great Jimmy Shand full time, accompanying Scotland's greatest ever accordionist on his historic tours of Australia and New Zealand. In 1967 came another change when he became a member of Jimmy Blue’s band after the departure of Mickie Ainsworth.
The following year, BBC producer Iain MacFadyen asked Jim to form a band to carry on the tremendously popular White Heather Club in theatres. This was the line-up of Pam Brough, Billy Craib, Billy Thom and Tommy Lees, the band which also made the groundbreaking A Measure of Scotch album which many of today’s established musicians frequently place on their list of inspirational music. The Jim Johnstone Band became one of the hottest properties and they often played six nights a week.

Jim was also a hugely talented and prolific composer, with probably his most often played tune being the wonderful Billy Thom‘s Reel. His Inveresk March, The Banks of the Nith and Fisherrow Polka were composed for the BBC programme On Tour, while Radio Forth commissioned his Pure Scotch Two-Step as signature tune for its programme of the same name. Readers of a certain age will also remember fondly another signature tune The Thingummyjig Polka, and during the 1970s, Jim was a regular guest on the long-running Songs of Scotland.

Jim Johnstone was very much one of the link men of Scottish dance music. He brought together the closing years of the original bands and the formative years of the young and exciting bands of today, and while the musical enthusiasts still rave about the sophistication and subtleties of his recordings, his own musical credo remained simple: “Always play for your audience.”

In 2005 he was inducted into the Scottish Traditional Music Hall of Fame, an honour awarded to musicians who have been in the industry over 30 years and who have altered our musical landscape for the better. Thankfully, we’ll be dancing to Jim’s tunes for a long time to come.

Here's my Brown's Around article in the August edition of Comment, the Highland Perthshire News Magazine.

IF YOU HAD SEEN WHAT I HAE SEEN …

As we go to press, it’s the week after the anniversary of the Battle of Killiecrankie. Many readers of this column will know that it took place some three miles up the old A9 from Pitlochry at a spot called the Pass of Killiecrankie. Most people will know also that the site of the battle is looked after by the National Trust for Scotland, thus ensuring lots of visitors.

It’s a very popular place for Japanese tourists, and last time I visited there was a coach load of around 60 of them just about to leave the car park. The coach driver kindly waited to let me drive past but while he was stopped, someone jumped out from the cover of the trees, ran up the steps of the coach and stole the driver’s wallet. Police are not worried, however, as they have 366 photographs of the suspect.

So why the interest in Killiecrankie? Well, while I was researching some songs (otherwise known as desperately looking for new material) I came once again on that old chestnut called Killiecrankie, sometimes known as The Braes o’ Killiecrankie. It’s a very popular song but try as I might I can’t get to like it. Its origins are obscure, though we know that Robert Burns amended it and there are also followers of James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, who claim it as their man’s. It certainly isn’t one of Burns’s best ones; with lines like “I’ve fought at land, I’ve fought at sea, at hame I fought my Auntie, oh” how could it be?

I’ve found recordings of it lumped under the general catch-all of ‘Bonnie Prince Charlie and the Jacobite Risings’ though the Bonnie Prince himself would not catch his first sight of a Roman sky until more than thirty years after.

The actual battle was fought on 27 July 1689 between Jacobite and Government troops and it wasn’t, repeat wasn’t, between the Scots and the English. There were Scots on both sides and there were English on both sides. Some say there were Irish on three sides, but that‘s another story.

What we do know is that the leader of the Jacobites was John Graham of Claverhouse, known to his followers as Bonnie Dundee and to his detractors as Bluidy Clavers. The Government troops were led by another Scotsman, General Mackay from Scourie. Dundee was victorious but made a bad career move by getting himself killed and was never the same man again. In fact they buried him twice, but, as above, that’s also another story next time you visit Old Blair.

And what’s all this to do with music? Well, thanks to the glories of the internet and, in particular YouTube, you can see again that wonderful BBC TV clip of The Corries marching proudly along Pitlochry’s Atholl Road and heading out towards the battlefield on the aforementioned old A9. They are strumming guitars and lip-synching to the song as they go along and what is amazing in this day and age is the lack of fuss in filming it. There they go, just two guys out for a stroll in 1966, with locals and visitors alike standing on the pavement outside Fisher’s Hotel or heading into the Post Office as if it was a common occurrence to see a television crew at work. Perhaps it was. Some viewers may notice, too, that no roads required to be closed off.

Now Roy and Ronnie are beyond the town and almost in the middle of the road, with traffic driving past unconcerned. Look out for the driver of a 3-wheeler who cuts out to pass and nips in smartly, almost removing the right leg of the striding author of Flower of Scotland. It’s a marvellous clip of film and you can see it by clicking on YouTube then keying in Corries Killiecrankie 1966.

On another matter, it’s been necessary to cut short my summer show at Castle Menzies and there will be no more performances this year. I blame sub-prime mortgages and the credit crunch myself but I’d like to thank John, Anne, Mike and Eassie at the Castle for all their help over the past five months.

Here's my Brown's Around article in the July edition of Comment, the Highland Perthshire News Magazine.

CATCHING UP

Now that the great excitement of Euro 2008 and Wimbledon is but a thing of the past, here’s a trio of news items which may have escaped your notice during the past few weeks when their deserved inclusion in the press was put on hold for what was deemed more important news.

The first item concerns a piping aficionado, as they say in Gaelic, who set out to fund-raise in an unusual way. Alastair MacGregor, chief executive of Argyll Community Housing Association, sheared fifty sheep without a break in a five hour session at his father’s farm at Connel, near Oban.

The event raised £4,100 and this will go towards tuition of pibroch, the classical music of the great Highland bagpipe, for schoolchildren in Argyll and Bute. Mr MacGregor had the idea for the event while attending the Highlands and Islands Music and Dance Festival held at Oban in May this year. He was very impressed by the number of young people involved in the pibroch competitions and by the commitment shown by them, their parents and tutors to develop this vital part of piping’s heritage.

His son Jamie, 12, is a keen chanter player who hopes to progress to the pipes. While Mr MacGregor does not play himself, he has always been interested in piping, and enjoys the music. He was taught to hand-shear as a boy nearly 40 years ago but says: “It’s been a long time since I’ve done any shearing at that level.”

And from one clip to another, for Billy Connolly has recorded a video clip to mark the 10th anniversary of the death of Paisley folk musician Danny Kyle. Danny was very well known in this part of Highland Perthshire and was for many years associated with the Killin Traditional Music & Dance Festival.

The Big Yin's on-screen tribute to his friend was scheduled to be shown at the Danny Kyle Memorial Concert, held in Paisley Town Hall as part of the town's Sma' Shot Day. Acts taking part included the Tannahill Weavers, Skelpaig, Maeve O' Boyle, Dave Acari, Doghouse Roses, Maria Hall, Wing and a Prayer and House of Cheese, plus extra special guests Malky McCormick, Tich Frier and Brian Miller from the original Vindscreen Vipers.

Danny's son Rikki, who organised the event, said: "My dad would be proud. This was his main thing all his life - giving people who wanted to play a platform to do it."

And finally, as a role model for both disabled and able-bodied young people, it would be difficult to find someone to match Evelyn Glennie. In a career spanning more than two decades she has performed regularly on the international circuit and has become well established as a composer.

Her extraordinary achievements were honoured last month when she was made a dame by the Queen for her services to music. Evelyn, who has been profoundly deaf since the age of 12, was born in Aberdeen and went on to study at the Royal Academy of Music, becoming the world’s first solo percussionist.

When asked what her inspiration was at the beginning of her career she replied: “I just wanted to do it; it felt right to me to follow that type of career. If you want to do something, just do it.”

She added: “My deafness was more of an issue with the press and I suppose it helped to get me noticed but at the end of the day you’ve just got to focus on what you want to do.”

Incidentally, on the subject of being kept off the front pages, spare a thought for the archaeologists who unearthed the Anglo-Saxon longship at Sutton Hoo in Suffolk. Their discovery of what was an important cultural breakthrough was made in the last week of August 1939 but for some unaccountable reason news editors around the world unanimously decided to lead with the outbreak of World War Two. Ah, well, put it on the website and see who notices.