2007 Festival - Fèis 2007
SATURDAY | FRIDAY | THURSDAY | WEDNESDAY
FRIDAY
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I have friends who are twins and who really love the Proclaimers. When they enjoy a jar or two, they often like to regale with a few of their popular music tunes. Their reportoire is extensive, from Letter to America to Letter to America with all the hits in between. They sing the one about walking as well.
It was a great disappointment to me that they weren't there last night. Not since Alec Salmond sneaked across the finishing line have I seen them cry, thinking of the new Scotland, which actually sounds a lot like Norway (but with ferry fares that don't require taking out a mortgage. Hah! Don't get me started on that!)
Still, they have seen them in concert a few times, so we mustn't feel too bad. Once, one of our twins met one of the twins in a toilet somewhere in the southern part of Scotland. As they stood side by side at the urinal, my friend became misty eyed, recognising that finally he was going to meet one of his idols. He turned to him, a little bleary eyed and said "I'm a twin too." Now, if I was a rock star in such a situation, I should have made a quick sharp harp exit as well. This is indeed what happened. My twin friend cannot think of this wasted opportunity, the anecdotes they could have shared about twin life, the things in common, without crying. The chance of the two sets of twins jamming together seems to have inexorably slipped away forever...
The Proclaimers were perfect for the Friday night tent. They had the crowd roaring, and they were mighty. What else can I say? They work bloody hard, they are professional as hell, their band are as tight as can be, and they deliver. And! They mention Stornoway in one of their songs. And! They have been coming to the island for years, playing gigs.
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In an effort to present a more exacting, music reviewer type thingy to the world, I am trying to enlist a proper reviewer to do the work for me. He keeps on slipping away, though. I thought I had him earlier, he was slowed down by the fact that he was eating a scotch pie, but he escaped again, as he knows how to sail a boat and there are lots of boats around at the moment. Still. If I can find him, I will make him give me his views, and I will share them with you all.
His name is Norman. I can tell you that Norman loved the Nuala Kennedy gig, as did I. What playing. And Claire Mann, the other flautist in the band, could get a tune out of a set of saucepans. First class. I treated myself to a half pint of guinness afterwards them went to watch Lau. Lau had so much energy that I thought Aidan O' Rourke was going to levitate at one stage. I'm not even going to tell you any accordion jokes, as a sign of respect.
I've really enjoyed the Lanntair gigs this year. And the fact you can take in a gig there, then head over to the big tent... then! go back to the festival club. Well, it is great, but it has meant not getting home for three days. The Promised land of Ness will have to remain so a little while longer. Saturday nights in the tent are usually my favourite night, a little mellower, and always some interesting bands I have never heard of, but which don't take long to convert me. Convert! Imagine the bonfire we could make with all these fiddles!
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Through a strange conglomeration of circumstances, I found myself driving last night. The only problem was that everyone thought I was a taxi, and I had to lock the doors when I stopped for a moment. It was like a strange kind of fisherman zombie movie. I gave a lift to a couple of extra people, the monsoon had dampened their spirits, and although they reassured me that their other friends could just "lie on the floor of the car", I deemed it unsafe to have too many fishermen rattling around, especially in a French made vehicle. The police were on the lookout last night for just that kind of activity. I personally like to give the procewrator feescal a wide berth.
Luckily the powers are still strong. I will continue hunting down Norman the proper reviewer. And! I met the fellow last night who played the gong in Moving Hearts. What other proof is needed that incredible things happen at this festival. We discussed how to use it... the answer is - sparsely. One cannot over egg the gong usage, as it needs to make it's mark, but unfortunately a sound man is deafened each time it is used, so when you hear that unmistakable sound, remember that this is no event to take lightly.
Unfortunately, I am still having no luck getting a slot for my Run-Rig tribute band for next year. We are called "Lazybed", and we have not rehearsed yet, but I still believe we are excellent. I am trying to push us in a more "Play Gaelic" direction, but there are others in the band who are of the "Loch Lomond" persuasion, and so a turf war looms. Only Malcolm Jones can save us now. Still, there is such a thing as 'popular support', if you all get my drift.
