Bill Oddy – Stanley Odd

Poetry in Scotland holds this sort of mythical status, mythical enough indeed for a bunch of geezers to get dressed up in the ‘Shortbread-tin/ Brigadoon Scottish’ way and recite lines to a piece of offal every January 25th ‘aw in the name eh the bard eh?

For an Ayrshire farming lad to elevate himself into the national consciousness through tricks of the tongue, observational humour, and still-relevant use of ‘how Scottish people actually talk’ shows how much we value poetry in this country. Got to say that these values were somewhat lost during the educational years, when Higher English resolutely missed the point about how poetry has extreme relevance, both in its observational qualities as well as its phenomenal use of ‘that which which sets us apart from the cat videos’, language.

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Blog the Second

‘Got a feeling ’21 is gonna be a good year’

So goes the refrain from The Who‘s seminal 1969 album, ‘Tommy‘. The track in question is simply titled 1921. Since the end of this guff year, this tune, or at least the main motif from it has been rattling round my head like the broken action of a stricken snare drum, carrying with it something that hasn’t been seen for a wee while in the world of independent music; hope. ‘It’s hope Jim, but not as we know it’.

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Blog the First

It begins…

Welcome to the blog. Thanks for tuning in. Look, I really tried to get the whole newsletter going, and we had a great run, we really did, but the reality is that due to current circumstances, there isn’t enough news to sustain a monthly newsletter. For those of you who enjoyed the halcyon days of March and April, where it appeared that news and views from Glasgow’s #1782 favourite folk-singer would furnish your inbox indefinitely, I am truly sorry. It isn’t to say that the newsletter is dead, but I think I am going to aim for a ‘every 3 months’ sort of turnaround.

Anyway, I listen to music and I play music, so the idea with this was to talk about new music that I like listening to, while at the same time explaining the glamorous life of what one could loosely term ‘a professional musician’. Get ready for a side of life that you couldn’t possibly imagine, one in which the price of guitar strings directly affects my ability to pay the gas bill. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll folk around etc.