This is the story of 30 years of The Proclaimers

Edinburgh twins Craig and Charlie Reid turned the pop world upside down with the release of The Proclaimers’ first album – This is the Story – in 1987.At a time when image was king, they burst onto the scene in glasses and scruffy jackets, belting out acoustic tunes in a broad Scottish accent.

A BBC Scotland documentary is looking back on their remarkable 30-year career. `This is the story of an enduring Scottish music phenomenon:

Unlikely influences

Dexys Midnight Runners

Proclaimer Craig Reid says the twins saw Dexy’s Midnight Runners in 1980, when they were 18.

He says: “They came on stage and it was not something we were expecting. It was like being hit by a truck. It was breathtaking how good they were and how unusual they were.”

The band’s charismatic frontman Kevin Rowland became a good friend of the twins.

He says: “They were very political. They were very vocal. You couldn’t win an argument with them, because there were two of them.”


Touring with The Housemartins

paul heaton
Paul Heaton says The Proclaimers were brilliant live

Kevin Rowland helped The Proclaimers make a demo which found its way to The Housemartins, another popular 80s band famous for being outside the pop [ . . . ]

Continue at BBC: This is the story of 30 years of The Proclaimers – BBC News

Music interview: Karine Polwart on creating her Scottish Songbook event for the Edinburgh International Festival 

Karine Polwart tells Fiona Shepherd why putting together her Scottish Songbook was a joy – though she still worries about what she’s left out

There’s a lot of songs about rain.” Without wanting to give away too much about the contents of her Scottish Songbook show as part of the International Festival’s Light on the Shore season, Karine Polwart has hit upon one of the enduring themes, not just of her concert, but of Scottish pop music in general.

Why Does It Always Rain On Me, Only Happy When It Rains, Here Comes The Rain Again, Tinseltown in The Rain… each in their way speaks to certain Caledonian characteristics – melancholy, masochism, resignation, romanticism and a refusal to be ground down – as well as the not-so-subtle role that climate plays in our national psyche. Think how many band rehearsal hours would otherwise be lost to basking in the sunshine.

The distinct (or otherwise) nature of Scottish pop music is a subject addressed by the National Museum of Scotland’s summer exhibition, Rip It Up: The Story Of Scottish Pop, as well as accompanying BBC and Radio Scotland documentaries. And this year it is to be celebrated (again) by the International Festival [ . . . ]

Continue: Music interview: Karine Polwart on creating her Scottish Songbook event for the Edinburgh International Festival – The Scotsman

Gwenifer Raymond: You Were Never Much of a Dancer review – an immersive debut

Gwenifer Raymond has a PhD in astrophysics, lives in Brighton and designs video games for a living. No ordinary human, she also has mercury in her fingertips. You can just about see it glisten as she plays guitar on There Will Be Blood for an introductory 2016 acoustic session. By early 2018, the song had evolved into Sometimes There’s Blood, and a video treatment with creepy Victoriana and taxidermy. Such is the Welsh-born Raymond’s very British take on a niche form known as the American primitive style, where guitars embark on flowing instrumental extemporisations, often ending up somewhere very eastern, sometimes sounding like Indian ragas.

Having discovered the guitar aged eight, when her mother gave her a cassette of Nirvana’s Nevermind, Raymond traced the idols of her idols back to the Delta blues, and then sideways into this folk form. Her immersive debut album pays tribute to the Delta and Appalachia at the same time, on the banjo workouts Bleeding Finger Blues and Idumea, and raises a battered hat to the godfather of the primitive scene on Requiem for John Fahey. Throughout, Raymond takes this roiling, rhythmic traditional sound and stamps her own imprimatur on it.

Source: Gwenifer Raymond: You Were Never Much of a Dancer review – an immersive debut | Music | The Guardian

Gwenifer Raymond – You Never Were Much of a Dancer

Although the first track on this debut from Welsh-born American primitivist Gwenifer Raymond introduces things with a weary violin line in front of some subtle field recordings, it doesn’t take long before she demonstrates her picking skills. ‘Sometimes there’s Blood’ is a complex, urgent piece of playing that, instead of a fairly typical heavily thumbed bass string holding things down, rings out a higher string, amplifying the sense of anxiety and menace the track suggests. Things stay dusty for ‘Idumea’, a banjo track played in the claw-hammer style, bringing to mind Appalachian music brought straight from the mountains. The structure of the piece uses subtle repetition and drone playing, sounding much like a tune from Nathan Bowles’s A Bottle, A Buckeye set.

‘Off to see the Hangman, Part II’ feels like a companion piece to ‘Idumea’, in that it employs a similar cyclical technique to build a piece with hypnotic qualities that in turn lulls the listener and jolts them with a barrage of harsh guitar. It is clever playing and a lesson in restraint that takes some players a career to find. A couple of short smart pieces keep the momentum and freshness going; ‘Face Down Strut’ is a Fahey-esque rattle that holds a quick melody for a minute and a half before jumping out and introducing ‘Laika’s Song’, a prettier and more considered travel tune that is so welcome it’s a shame it doesn’t quite hit two minutes.