Louise and I celebrated the 20th anniversary of our first date back in February, but though we've been together through thick and thin since then, we've never got married. Neither of us are really a fan of the ceremony, the expense, or being forced into the limelight. If that's what you wanted, good on you, but it was never for us.
Today though, we're getting married. It's a small registry office thing in the Town Hall - me, Lou, Sam, her Mum and partner as witnesses. No big do. No suit or dress. Not even any rings. No expense... well, a little expense, but you can't do anything for free, can you? We're doing it for a very boring reason - inheritance tax, so that if one of us dies, the other one (and Sam) will be a little better off than if we'd not tied the knot. Who says romance is dead?
There were many times in my life I thought I'd never meet anyone who'd want to stay with me. Since we met, Louise has always been there for me... even when I've done her head in. You can't ask for more than that, I don't think. And if you think this is a particularly unsentimental post, well, all I can tell you is that Louise wouldn't thank me for writing anything soppy.
I'm really hoping Billy Idol might ride his motorbike through the Town Hall window, but I'm betting he'll be bleaching his hair today. Then again, neither of us will be wearing white.
In last week’s post, I mentioned my frequently expressed
hatred of Audi drivers. Martin responded that he used to drive an Audi. Don’t
worry, Martin, we all did things we regret in our younger days. It’s good that
you can own your past transgressions, that you now see the error of your ways,
and I’m sure you’ve spent the time since making up for it – being kind to small
animals, giving more to charity, occasionally letting other drivers have their
right of way.
My reply to Martin was rather flippant, I’m afraid, and I feel I should apologise for that. I said, “And you’re also a cyclist! And yet, I still
like you. So you must be doing something right.”
I need to make it clear that I
don’t put cyclists in the same bracket as Audi drivers. Not all cyclists are
bad, but I do reserve a particular disdain for the selfish and arrogant ones,
usually MAMILs, who believe their hobby / exercise routine trumps the rights
and priorities of all other road users. There are times I feel like setting up
a desk in the middle of a cycle lane and writing my blog there, or taking the
ironing board out onto the Transpennine Cycle Trail and standing smack dab in
the middle of it while I press the creases out of my smalls. But such behaviour
would be petty. Far better to manage my grievances through mentalisation.
On the first week of my new job, just over two years ago, I
attended a course that introduced me to the concept of mentalisation. It’s not
the best of words, since whenever I hear it, I immediately think of Alan Partridge running away from his obsessive fan, or else I conjure up an image of this guy…
Mentalisation has nothing to do with either of those weird cultural reference points. Science Direct tells us…
“Mentalisation is the ability to think about states of mind
(e.g., thoughts, feelings, intentions) in the self and other people.”
Mentalisation is used a lot in therapy, but it’s also encouraged for
teachers, business people, anyone who might find themselves in a situation of
conflict with another person who appears to have opposing views, plans or
wishes to yourself.
The idea is similar to empathy, but empathy that you think about
and apply to a situation, rather than empathy that comes naturally. A quick
word on the difference between empathy and sympathy, since it’s something I get
asked a lot by students...
A friend of yours tells you what a bad time they’re having
since they lost a loved one. You can sympathise as above, without really
feeling their pain. Or you can empathise, because you care about them deeply,
you knew the person they’ve lost, or because it reminds you of a loss you
yourself suffered.
The other different between empathy and sympathy is that you can have empathy for positive emotions. Sympathy's all about the negative, "feeling sorry" for someone.
OK, mentalisation isn’t quite the same as either of those
things. It’s more cold and logical. It’s the Mr. Spock version of empathy. It asks
you to carefully assess the actions of another, to try to appreciate why they’re
acting the way they are, thereby controlling your own reaction to it.
Imagine you’re going into a difficult business meeting with
someone you know has very different goals and objectives to you. If you think
beforehand about their aims and intentions, try to understand where they’re
coming from, then you’re less likely to get pissed off when they refuse to play
ball with your plans, and you might be more willing to find a compromise that
suits everybody.
As a teacher, it’s useful to try mentalising my students. Why is little Timmy throwing his chair through the window? What’s he got going on in his life, at home or elsewhere in school? Is it a cry for help? Or did he just have George's Maths lesson the period before mine?
Let’s try and apply mentalisation to my frustration at being stuck
behind a cyclist on a narrow country lane. At five miles an hour in first gear up a steep Yorkshire hillside.
With no passing places until you get right to the top. And I’m in a rush,
because I’m late to pick Sam up from the school because the traffic has been
really bad tonight.
If I concentrate my thoughts on me in this situation – my goals,
my annoyance, how I wouldn’t have the audacity to keep on riding my bike in
this situation if there was a queue of ten cars behind me – I’m just going to get more wound up.
Instead, let’s try to mentalise that cyclist. Maybe he had a
heart attack last year and his doctor told him cycling is the best
exercise if he wants to see the other side of 60? Maybe his wife left
him a few months back and cycling is the only thing that takes his mind off his
loneliness? Maybe he’s in training for a charity bike ride to earn enough money
to fly his young son to the States for an experimental medical procedure that
might save the boy's life?
Now, admittedly, this is speculative mentalisation, since
I’ll never know the truth, and likely none of them come anywhere near the truth
(and maybe the truth is, that cyclist really doesn’t give a shit about anybody
else on the road since they’re completely devoid of empathy or the ability to
mentalise the needs of others; i.e. maybe they’re also an Audi driver), but it’s
the process that matters. It’s certainly healthier to try to mentalise
in this situation. And anger
is pointless, apparently. But we’ll get back to that another time. The main thing is to try to imagine yourself in someone else's shoes. These songs, from the perspective of cyclists, help me feel the other side of the story...
If none of that works, maybe I can try to imagine that
cyclist is a friend of mine. What if it's Martin? If I imagine that, then I know he’s
not doing this out of malicious intent, he’s just doing what he needs to do. If
I imagine it’s someone I know, someone I like and respect, then suddenly I
feel far less animosity towards them, because I know they're not doing it on purpose just to piss me off. (To be fair, some of my friends would do it on purpose just to piss me off, but that's OK when it's your friends.) Suddenly it becomes much easier to mentalise
them. There’s probably a psychological name for doing this, but I haven’t come
across it yet. I’m no expert, just a layman trying to make sense of
it all to help myself.
I take a few steps back to gain perspective, perspective, And kid myself that I can be objective, objective
Back when I worked in radio, and before the death and subsequent revelations about Sir James Wilson Vincent Savile OBE KCSG, a colleague of mine who'd worked alongside him told us a number of disturbing stories about the famous TV and radio presenter. The one that sticks in my head was that if you did anything to upset Jimmy, you'd come in to work the following day to discover that someone had defecated in your desk drawer. There were all the other, even more disturbing, rumours too... but at the time, I took them with a grain of salt. Because how could someone in such a public role get away with that stuff without being exposed? That's the question we're still asking today, and though documentaries like A British Horror Story and the new Steve Coogan dramatisation, The Reckoning, attempt to answer that question... I'm not sure it'll ever be answered to our satisfaction.
I wondered how Jimmy had been represented in popular song prior to the scandal? Did anyone suspect? Well, these comedians had clearly heard the rumours. You might say it's no joking matter, but I'm betting each of them actually wanted his crimes to be exposed and were pushing it as far as they dared on television at the time. And of course, John Lydon was banned from speaking out...
Songwriters probably had to be more careful. Though you can read between the lines on this song by The Toy Dolls...
There's not much evidence in the songs recorded before his death, to be honest. Afterwards though, the floodgates were opened...
Avalanche Party create "feral garage-punk from the wild North Yorkshire Moors, hopped up on adrenalin and amphetamines". And I'm pretty sure the song below is about Jimmy, not just because it mentions his old TV show...
Another interesting discovery today: The Cool Greenhouse. who describe themselves as "music to lose scratch-cards to". Clearly Sir Jim haunts their dreams...
And sometimes when you close your eyes
There’s grinning Jimmy Saviles painted on your inner eyelids
Both of the above acts channel the ghost of Jimmy into dark musical nightmares. The same can't be said for Mick Trouble, who crafts a lovely jangly pop song named after Jimmy's old TV show. Not quite sure why, this only came out last year, so surely he's heard?
The most damning reaction to the whole Savilegate affair came from The Indelicates though, in my album of the year from 2017, Juniverbrecher. I reviewed it as the time thus:
The death of Little England through Brexit, parochialism and Saville. This staggering musical banishing spell urges hope.
Another week, another bunch of bands that share the same name, although this is one of those editions I consider a bit of an open and shut case. Still, it's good to check out the competition. As you might imagine with a name like "The Proclaimers", a certain amount of religious content is involved... but I tried to pick the ones that were worthy of consideration.
THE PROCLAIMERS #1
The Welsh Proclaimers! Excellent stuff from 1965... get on board The Gospel Train!
THE PROCLAIMERS #2
The Australian Proclaimers! Formed in 1966, they did more than 700 live shows over a 40 year career, originally led by Aussie opera singer Jonathan Summers...
THE PROCLAIMERS #3
The Californian Proclaimers! Their own release (as far as discogs is concerned), from 1984 on a Ministry Resource Centre compilation. Despite the title, it's less god-bothering than our earlier entries...
THE PROCLAIMERS #4
The obvious Proclaimers! It's those lads from Auchtermuchty again.
Rather than the big hits, I chose a more recent favourite. Social commentary as well as great pop tunes!
Which Proclaimers would you stop to listen to in the street?
Our annual boy's getaway took us north this year, including a day in Edinburgh, a place I've long wanted to visit but never had the chance. We drove up from Carlisle in the morning, and my first impression of Scotland was that the roads are amazing. Amazing in that I hardly saw another driver as we took the scenic route through the Borders, and even the motorways were a delight to drive on. The occasional lorry on the inside lane which you pulled out to pass, but none of the horrors you get round these parts. It's telling that on our return journey down the M6, within 30 seconds of passing the border back into England, the motorway was closed down to one lane and everybody started queueing again. Welcome home!
The highlight of Edinburgh for Sam was the Dungeon, where they put on a great educational show with quite a few scares. I was singled out as having the plague and almost ended up as lunch for the local cannibals, so not that different from a night out in Barnsley. After that, we explored the city and worked our way up to the castle, which has a spectacular view and amazing history, but is rather spoilt by the utter touristification of the place (Sam preferred the far less grand environs of Carlisle Castle, because it felt more real). Sadly, we didn't have time to climb up Arthur's Seat, though we did get down to the rather incongruous parliament building... which was taped off by police barricades as someone had thrown paint all over its weird 70s sci-fi film entrance. We also didn't have time to venture into the underground... but I guess that's something for next time. We'll definitely be back.
One curious observation about our time in the city... every charity shop we passed was closed. Some just for the day, or just for the afternoon. It was almost as though they'd heard we were coming and were saving their wares for someone else. I can't imagine who.
Here's a great tune about Edinburgh Castle by a native son...
Edinburgh Castle hugging the sky
Cold grey stone, humourless and dry
Sitting like a cork on top of the town
One of these days I'm gonna blow you down
And here's some lads from up the road in Auchtermuchty...
And then another. Stevie Jackson is the guitarist in Belle & Sebastian. He also released a solo album in 2011 with the superb title (I Can't Get No) Stevie Jackson. Who wouldn't want that in their collection?
Not all the lyrical references above are pure product placement, of course. The term "mother's pride (and joy)" is commonly used to refer to "the emotion a mother feels when one of her children succeeds in some endeavor, and I rejected quite a few lyrics on the basis that I doubted they'd ever heard of the bread. However, both the artists below grew up in the 60s and 70s and would have been familiar with the brand when they came to name songs after it, even if the songs in question might have more to do with maternal delight than sliced bread. They knew what they were doing, is my point.
Let's start with George... a different George than the one who inspired this post...
That's a pretty emotional tune about loss, one I've not heard in years.
On the other hand, we have a Paul Heaton song that compares Mother's Pride with Father's Pride... and the dads have a lot to answer for.
Confession time: I've never seen today's TV show. It aired in the late 60s, before I was born, and I don't recall it ever being repeated in the 70s. Which is odd, considering all the other 60s shows I watched throughout my childhood.
Fortunately, George is old enough to remember it... so I let him do the hard work.
Today we’re off to southern Africa. Almost. Well, California, with a few film shots from Mozambique. Yes, it’s Daktari. First, here’s the opening sequence of the programme...
A pedant would ask why an Indian elephant was in southern Africa. However, a concerned young boy (and now a concerned retiree) would be much more worried that the elephant was injured, but luckily was on its way to hospital. An intrigued young boy would wonder at how the animal doctor was cuddling a cheetah, whereas a retiree would wonder at how Billy (the male farm cat) would never allow himself to be thusly molly-coddled and would instead try and claw your hand off. But just look at how magnificent Clarence is, ferrying about the female star of the show!
I can remember nothing at all about the programme (well, so much for my theory! - Rol), apart from Clarence. I’m not even sure if it was ever broadcast in Scotland in the early 1970s, maybe my memory of it dates to the late 1960s, assuming it was broadcast in England at that time. But what's not to like about it? Caring for wild animals! Taking on baddies who mean wild animals no good at all! Injured wild animals recuperating and living a happy life! Different species of wild animals intermingling happily without eating each other! There’s more than one lesson for us all in this programme… and more than one pop song that mentions Daktari.
Earlier shepherds came and talked about … The Shend Concubine mortuary Daktari wallpaper
The spoken interruptions remind me of a Velvet Undergound song. I also think that this Half Man Half Biscuit song might be the only time you’ll hear Junior Kickstart mentioned in a pop song. As for The Shend, I’ve no idea what/who that is.
(I'll be honest and say that I thought it was probably a range of hills - since Nigel Blackwell has a habit of name-dropping topography in his songs. However, the interweb tells me otherwise: "The Shend is the founder and frontman of cult Dadaist jazz-punk band, The Cravats." - Rol.)
The Proclaimers, a year older than me, seem to be able recall much more of the late 1960s than I do in this song (they also refer to someone called Jimmy Clitheroe).
Mother’s Pride on the table, Batman on TV A Man in a Suitcase, and Daktari and Skippy
(Mother’s Pride, Misters Reid, not a proper Scottish plain loaf?)
And now some enjoyable nonsense from The Toy Dolls...
Dynasty or Daktari, a broadcast by the Tory party Celebrity Squares, Blind Date, who cares, I'll watch it…
There are more than a plethora of French-language songs that refer to Daktari but none about the TV programme.
And finally: someone is so obsessed with the programme, they’ve written a blog about it!
That’s not me using a pseudonym: mine would be something far more exotic.
Thank you for another day off, George. I learned today that Daktari is the Swahili word for doctor. I also found an early 10,000 Maniacs song named after the show... but it's probably coincidence.
At last! I guilt-tripped Alyson into writing a guest post! And what a guest post it is too. One of my favourites. I almost feel like my work here is done...
As a frequent visitor to Rol’s blog, and as someone who had
been pressing Lynchie to offer up a guest post for many years (which he did
with aplomb and kick-started this series I think*), it was inevitable the
pressure would be on to come up with something myself. Blind panic set in, as
although I don’t mind sharing some dubious song choices over at my place, the
thought of doing so here was more than a tad disconcerting**.
(*Actually, it was JC who kicked us off... although Lynchie's post arrived synchronously to that. - Rol.)
(** I don't see why. Rarely a post goes by in which I don't share a dubious song choice. - Rol.)
After a few false starts I decided to get back to the host
himself and ask for an idea…, a prompt. If it all went horribly wrong, I could
blame him (no not really). A few years back I started writing an American Odyssey in Song, a series which was great fun to
put together but by the time I reached Delaware I was stumped, and so ended the
journey. Rol reminded me of that series and suggested a Scottish Odyssey
instead as a guest post idea. As our travelling habits have been seriously
curtailed this year by the pesky pandemic, and staycations are now the order of
the day, let’s get our kilts on and journey the length and breadth of this country I call home, in
song. (The songs are listed in no particular order.)
Oh yes, Ricky, having seen many boats yesterday on the
Caledonian Canal, it seems that’s just what many of us are doing at the moment
and they may well be on their way to the west coast. On a technicality they
won’t “pass through” many villages and towns but they may well stop off at
places like Ullapool which is as far as I’ve travelled out of
Inverness this year. Their Seafood Shack serves up award-winning street food
and if you want to try Lobster Thermidor for less than 18 quid, that’s where you’d head. Their
annual music festival called Loopallu (see what they did there) was cancelled
this year but let’s hope it will return in 2021.
But I’ve been stung a few times, so I don’t let no one in
No even belters!
DD returned from Glasgow recently after
spending a year down there working/having her heart broken. She generally fits
into any situation pretty well but during her first week she was seriously
struggling. Why? The banter in her new workplace was in the local dialect, and
it took her a while to tune in.
Gerry Cinnamon is a recent discovery for me but if you want
to hear someone sing with a Glaswegian accent, this is your man. The girl in
the song is a belter, different from the rest but he’s scared
to let down his guard for fear of being hurt. Indeed Gerry, we’ve all been
there.
Anyone familiar with 1960s television schedules will
remember we were inflicted with The White Heather Show on a weekly basis. All
very stereotypically Scottish what with the tartan and the traditional songs. A
bit before my time but the host was a favourite son of Scotland, Andy Stewart
from Arbroath, famous for its “smokies”. These fishy delicacies are
now geographically protected foodstuffs, with production limited to within
4 km of Arbroath.
By some strange quirk of fate, breakfast DJ Simon
Mayo discovered Andy’s novelty song Donald Where’s Your Troosers in
1989 and helped it get to the top of the charts.This could be a difficult listen I grant you, but
bear with it, as Andy was a great impressionist as well as a singer/comedian
and his attempt at mimicking Elvis (at 1:45) is still really funny. For any
true Scotsman, falling
at a ball in a slippery hall could be quite dangerous.
Most of us of a certain age will remember the film Gregory’s
Girl. It was set in and around a state secondary school in Cumbernauld. The New Town
(designated in 1955) featured heavily in the film and during my only visit to
Cumbernauld, I spotted the big clock in the local shopping centre where Gregory
was due to meet his date for the evening. In a roundabout way the date ends up
being with Susan, played by pop pixie Claire Grogan from the band Altered Images. She was definitely on
a roll that year and her character Susan even ended up with the boy of her dreams, the awkward and gangly Gregory, much
to the envy of his socially inept friends. For them the die was cast, it was Caracas or bust.
My first visit to Loch Lomond was last year
when we went to visit DD in her new abode. It was a bit of a shock to the
system as unlike our own Loch Ness, which is on my doorstep, it is serviced by
giant carparks and shopping malls. Understandable I suppose it being so close
to Glasgow, but just hadn’t expected it.
Celtic rock band Runrig hail from the Isle of Skye (also
mentioned in Claire and Andy’s songs) but back in 1991 they performed a massive
concert at Loch Lomond in front of a crowd of biblical proportions. They had a
bit of a cult following back then and when they sang the traditional song Loch
Lomond, interspersed with lines in their native Gaelic, it sent shivers down
the spine.
Ho, ho mo leannan
Ho mo leannan bhoidheach
Lead singer of the time Donnie Munro taught my husband art
at school in the 1970s and when he’d told the class he was involved with a band
that played a kind of Gaelic/Celtic rock, they were highly sceptical. He
certainly proved them all wrong.
We’re off to Aberdeen now, a city I am
really familiar with as I spent nearly half my life there or thereabouts. It
probably still is the Oil Capital of Europe but with the black stuff being bad
news nowadays, it will have to reinvent itself in the next decade or so I
imagine. I still feel bad when people talk about the awfulness of the 1980s,
what with high unemployment and social unrest – In Aberdeen we’d never had it
so good and it did feel as if the streets were paved with gold. Our football team even
won the European Cup Winners Cup (it’s painful on the ears but there was even a song about it.
As for Danny Wilson, they were short-lived but left us with
some great songs (Mary's Prayer). Their lead singer Gary
Clark often used to head up to Aberdeen from his home in Dundee which is how
this song came about. It seems we had people we knew in common and I feel sure I must have been in
his company at some point during my student years. Of course, back then he
wasn’t Gary Clark from Danny Wilson but simply that guy from Dundee who
was up for the weekend. How it goes.
It’s not even a real place but back in 1985, son of
Edinburgh Mike Scott wrote these fine lyrics. Brigadoon is a
miraculously blessed village that rises out of the mists every hundred years,
for only a day – An MGM, Gene Kelly/Cyd Charisse version of Scotland, but
whenever I’m feeling a bit negative I try to remember Mike’s words. It sums up
how we’d all like to be in life, but not always easy to get into that mindset,
especially at the moment. Note to self: Must try harder.
I had really enjoyable wee holiday in Dundee a
couple of years back and now think of it fondly as the city of Jam, Jute,
Journalism and the Party Fears Two. We sampled the jam, visited an old jute
mill, and took in a DC Thomson exhibition showcasing those great characters
Dennis the Menace, Oor Wullie and Desperate Dan.
So what if this party fears two?
The alcohol loves you while turning you blue
View it from here from closer to near
Awake me
Another great character from Dundee was the
sadly-taken-too-young Billy MacKenzie of the Associates. Once seen never
forgotten and those soaring high tenor vocals were a joy to listen to. The
lyrics apparently came about after watching two girls trying to get into a
party – they were smashing windows and attempting to kick the door in with their
stiletto heels, so were christened the Party Fears Two!
There is a large park in Edinburgh to the
south of the city centre called The Meadows and last time we were there I
noticed a hospital bordering it on one side. It’s called Simpsons and I remembered that all five Bay City Rollers had
been born there (too much time spent reading teen mags in the 1970s). Was there
ever a group of lads less well equipped to become tartan teen
sensations? It is well documented that despite their global success they
ended up with none of the spondulicks. The Beatles had a mania, and so did
these five boys
from Edinburgh – Who would have thought it possible?
Yeah, we sang shang-a-lang
And we ran with the gang
Doin’ doo-op-dooby-doo-i
You might think we all prance around in full highland dress
up here, showcasing our very best versions of the Gay Gordons or the Dashing
White Sergeant, but you’d be wrong. Last time I was at a wedding it was
Shang-A-Lang that got everyone up on the dance floor, and why not.
The Proclaimers have written some great songs but this one
is still my favourite, their love letter to Leith, a now very
gentrified district in the north of Edinburgh, and the place of their birth.
I’m certainly not a fan of Hibernian FC but seeing the crowd on the
terraces sing this
song is something that always brings a tear to my eye.
While I’m worth my room on this earth
I will be with you
While the Chief, puts sunshine on Leith
I’ll thank Him for His work
And your birth and my birth
Where’s that box of tissues?
Thanks again, Alyson. A lot of time and effort went into that. I just feel bad that it stopped you writing your own blog for a couple of weeks.
The doors are still open on this feature, folks. Let me know if you'd like to contribute.
Love that video. I'd visit my local greasy spoon more if Chrissie Hynde worked there.
2. Weather breeder, like Prince Albert.
I'm sure I've probably used Prince Albert before, although this time it has nothing to do with piercings... just the old "Have you got Prince Albert in a can?" joke.
If you're going out celebrating tonight, take care and have a good one. If, like me, you'll be asleep long before the clock strikes in the new year... enjoy that too.
Thanks for reading this dribble throughout 2018. See you in 2019.
Back to Scotland today, and a variety of locations all in the same song.
We start in the Highlands, in Lochaber - the inspiration for a traditional folk song from 1760: Lochaber, No More. (Well, there's a big clue if you've not yet worked out today's song.)
Joe Strummer's mum came from Sutherland, and the village of Durness apparently inspired John Lennon to write In My Life. (The Sutherland Brothers are both from Aberdeenshire.)
Donald Trump's mum came from The Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides. (I recommend listening to Karine Polwart's thoughts on that... a track I'm sure to be featuring again soon.) Anyway, we can't blame Lewis for Trump. Instead, take a listen to Iain Morrison, a famous musical son who delivered a couple of excellent records I picked up after hearing them on Radio Scotland earlier this year (Amusement Arcade & 3 A.M.). You should start with Let's Go Captain, one of my songs of the year. Give it till at least 1 minute 10 seconds before you make up your mind.
(Also on Lewis is Stornoway... there's a very fine band called Stornoway... but they're from Oxford.)
Skye... well, I'm sure we'll come back to Skye one day.
Leaving the Highlands behind for a while, Bathgate is only half an hour from Edinburgh. David Tennant comes from Bathgate, along with the band Goodbye, Mr. Mackenzie.
Linwood, on the other hand, is just stone's throw from Glasgow. (If you can throw a stone 15 miles.) I can't find anybody famous from Linwood.
The artist Jack Vettriano came from Methil in Fife though. I like his style.
Nicola Sturgeon comes from Irvine, along with the lead singer of Biffy Clyro, and Roddy Woomble of Idlewild. Edgard Allen Poe apparently went to school there for a while.
All of which brings us back to the Highlands, and the very first location mentioned in this song... the National Scenic Area of Wester Ross, which crops up in the song Kishorn Commandos by North Sea Gas.
However, there is... of course... one famous song which mentions all these fine locations.
And here it is...
I suppose we better go to Wales next week, just in case any Welsh readers (I'm not sure I have any Welsh readers, but maybe this is why) feel left out. We'll go camping while we're there, shall we?
It's been a while since I found myself drawn into a new Proclaimers album - no fault of theirs, merely my inability to keep up with all the bands in my bailiwick. The title track of their latest release seized me by the throat the second I heard it on the radio though, and it's refused to let go. It's definitely one of the best songs they've ever written - and topical too.
Frankly, this is the best song Billy Bragg hasn't written this year - a year in which we've been crying out for someone such as he to cast a caustic eye over the world and decide we're all going to hell in a handbasket. I wouldn't have expected the Reid brothers to be the ones to step into Billy's shoes in the way they have, but in Angry Cyclist they've found the perfect metaphor for our crazy mixed up world in 2018... and the rest of the album's not bad either.
For me I feel this era has been kissed
Kissed
By the aura of an angry cyclist
List
Black clothing, so sincere
Red anger, born of fear
There's nothing half as queer as today
I take a few steps back to gain perspective
Perspective
And kid myself that I can be objective
Objective
(This is the moment when the slow build-up ends, the beat kicks in, and the Proclaimers - yes, the bloody Proclaimers! - blow the doors off your stereo!)
Watch bigotry advance
Give ignorance a chance
We're facists, we will dance by and by!
One of the songs of the year. From the Proclaimers. Who'd have thought it?
