With anthemic tales of love, debauchery and sin laced with black humour Findlay draws on influences from the darker side of genres like Folk and Country with a sound that remains uniquely Scottish. A reviewer once stated that he's "More rock and roll than 50 shitty indie bands..."
A review of our latest single Valentine's Day which appeared on Russell's Reviews.
Ok, so I may be late in posting this, but it's worth writing about nonetheless. If you were full of self pity and spite on the day of the lovers, yet still carried yourself with style and grace, this is the song for you. It's the Scottish equivalent of the Ben Folds Five track Song For The Dumped, in which the downtrodden fights back. There's a great knack to what Findlay does, writing tunes that could come across as MOR in lesser hands, but investing them with verve and vigour and more hooks than a cloakroom. With the aforementioned Mr Folds having lost his way slightly recently, it may well be time for Findlay to step up and take his place. The future of caustic radio friendly pop is in good hands.
It's hard to criticise someone and make them feel good about themselves at the same time. Jim seemed to be able to do that naturally. He was at the first Back of the Moon gig in the Star Folk Club, Glasgow sometime in late 2000 early 2001. Quick to dispense praise and criticism each discourse was liberally punctuated with swearing... we all thought he was (fucking) great! I think we had immediate respect for him, he had a great voice and we loved his songs, he didn't seem to care that we were a bunch of upstart kids. We had already experienced a patronising attitude towards young bands so it was refreshing to be spoken to like what you had to say and your music was worth something; dues paid, welcome to the team.
He showed up at The Late Night Session at Celtic Connections last year. Security wouldn't let him in (no surprise there) and he was protesting loudly about their authority. I told them he was getting up to play which seemed to calm them down. "I'm not fuckin playing. They don't want tae listen tae an aul bastard like me. Fucks sake."
I did a short spot first, which garnered the usual appreciation and roasting... Go and show us how it's done then you grumpy old bastard... So he got up and played. The audience, who were getting a bit on the chatty side, went absolutely quiet. He played about four songs with no regard for genre; a bit of blues, a country tune, a folk song. When he finished the place went mental. One woman, moved to tears by one of his song pushed herself backstage desperate to talk to him. No act the whole year received that kind of reception. All the musicians hanging about backstage and in the room were coming up to me for the rest of the festival asking if he was going to go up on stage again.
Watch the video. It's funny, instructive and pretty much sums up the Big Jim McKenna we knew.
Have you ever been stood up, locked out or kept awake by amorous neighbours? Does this sound like your worst Valentine’s Day? Well never fear because hope rises from the ashes of a failed Valentines Day in the new single by Findlay Napier and the Bar Room Mountaineers’.
If you can’t beat them subvert them. That is the attitude taken by Findlay and his band on this new release. A darkly humourous stroll through the other side of the commercialised nightmare that is the 14th February, ‘Valentines Day’ celebrates the lows and lows of singles who have love and companionship rammed down their throats alongside the overpriced set meal for two with warm flat champagne.
Napier releases this single after the busiest January of his life. As host and performer for the Late Night Sessions and organiser, host and performer for Hazy Recollections this year he played over thirty gigs throughout the largest winter festival in the world, Celtic Connections in Glasgow.
‘Valentine’s Day’ is the second single to be released from the forthcoming release ‘File Under Fiction’ which Findlay and the Bar Room Mountaineers are recording at Watercolour Music, Ardgour. The first single ‘Raise a Glass’ was The Daily Record’s five star single the week.
Last night I faced the lions alone. The arena was full of punters but no musicians. There is only so much time one can play about on Facebook and Twitter trying to look busy before the audience start getting twitchy. I've been relying heavily on the kindness of local musicians to come along and play and I think their contributions on Monday and Tuesday night were above and beyond the call of duty. Folk musicians of Glasgow I salute you.
The session was rescued from disaster by The Dirty Beggars. (when I say disaster I mean me sitting on my own like a rabbit in the headlights struggling to entertain for two and a half hours) Asked where they came from in America they replied. Peebles. Best description I can give is that they're a Scottish version of the Old Crow Medicine Show.
Aaaaand relax.
I've been on Magic Seaweed every twenty minutes or so. It's a kind of self torture. Luckily the forecast is reasonably pish for the next few days. I'm not missing too much and right now I'd settle for a float about my board on a flat day.
So tonight we have:
Me
Lurach
The Campbells
The Tannahill Weavers
Ali White, Arno Capellino and Rolond Conc
Joy Dunlop
Tommy and Shauna O Sullivan
Rura
My grill smells like this
Luckily one of my gigs got cancelled today so I've only had to do one workshop and two gigs. When I get home tonight I have a bit of housework to do. Sawing a chunk off the worktop to fit our new cooker. Christ alone knows what the neighbours will think with the sound of me sawing away at 3am. I can't wait for the new cooker to be connected. Four working rings, a grill that doesn't smell like the great Springfield tyre fire and an oven that doesn't have that charcoal block thing that I think was once a pizza...or a baked tattie. It moves about. If you leave the oven on for longer than 45 minutes you can hear it trying to get out, banging on the sides. I'm looking forward never to seeing it again.
The front row of today's Bar Room Mountaineers Gig.
It's hard to even remember what happened this morning. I was so sleepy. I woke up in front of 700 Primary School kids half way through a Bar Room Mountaineers gig. Sound checks for the Celtic Connections schools concerts begin at 8:30am, about the same time we used to come home from the festival club. I barely had time to iron my shirt (ie 45 minutes) before we were loading the gear into the car. Considering I'm usually a total nightmare before I've eaten I think I handled the load in and soundcheck fairly well only throwing a little strop when we weren't allowed to park in the Concert Hall Yard. I'm a fucking artist daahling. I want to park behind a big electric gate.
I'm not really sure if they enjoyed the concert but Kevin 'Singing Kettle' Macleod assured me if all the kids are jumping about and all the teachers have their arms folded and look pissed off you have won. We had a laugh at the one School who had obviously been told that if they ever wanted to see their parents alive again they'd better sit the fuck still and shut the fuck up. They were clustered in one little group surrounded by dancing, shouting and swaying kids like miniature Wee Free's at ferry terminal.
Showing the rainbow.
While searching for something funny I found this quote. While you read it, and some other's like it, I'd like you imagine the sound of a rugby team being sick into an empty skip. “There are no seven wonders of the world in the eyes of a child. There are seven million.” Oh and this one too... “The work will wait while you show the child the rainbow, but the rainbow won't wait while you do the work.”
The real dark side of Whitby Folk Week
Tonight is the last of the pub session style Late Night Sessions for this week. I've been enjoying the singing of Arthur Johnston and the self confessed second worst banjo player ever and Aberdeen fish merchant Danny Couper. I last met Danny at Whitby Folk Week a couple of years ago. Whitby Folk Week is the most mental English Folk Festival I've been to. It terms of silliness it fares well beside Orkney, Shetland and Haapavesi. Apparently there's events on during the day but to be honest with you I only saw daylight for a couple of hours in the three days I was there. The hour and a half when I arrived and was wandering the crowded streets searching for Last Night's Fun and the half hour I waited for the train home with one of the most beautifully crafted hangovers I've ever made.
After 3 days of Whitby Folk week.
I have kind of blurry memories of being so pissed I couldn't play guitar but for some reason could remember the words to every folk song I'd ever learned. Then Danny leading the massed ranks of drunken folk singers on an unaccompanied singing rampage that ended with everyone being thrown out of the pub by the campest barman in all Yorkshire. By 5am on the last night of the festival the barman had long since passed safe his folk music tolerance threshold. The floodgates burst and he threw the most spectacular tantrum it has been my pleasure to witness. My favourite part was when he literally screamed 'How about some fooking Abba. Eh? Fooking fal a laddy sheeiite' before continuing his tirade about 'shit-shit-shit folk wanker-dancers'. Thinking he was joking, we exasperated the situation by laughing at him hysterically and approximating Abba songs in Doric.
Something from the Doric side of the Moon... these two maniacs were also involved in the Whitby pub tantrum. Everywhere they go the bar is always well stocked.
