A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To Rum

Our trip to Rum was interesting. More eventful than I usually like. I like it when we plan to leave at a certain time and to arrive at a later time and for their to be no hiccups at all. However when you lead the kind of action filled lives that we lead, with one hair raising escapade after another, and danger around every corner, you get used to making your travel arrangements as if you are in an episode of Mission Impossible.

The trip started in Fife. We played in Leslie at The Greenside Hotel once again, with Root System and Joe Viterbo on the Friday night. We were two men down as Tom and Jim wanted to go to the Rum festival over the whole weekend and the rest of us elected to play the gig without them. That’s democracy for you. We had a good night once again, and stayed over there thinking we would get a head start on the drive up to Mallaig to catch the ferry at 2.30pm. That was as far as our good planning went. We drove up through Glencoe on Saturday morning and were in Fort William at around one.

Just outside Fort William, disaster struck. With just over an hour to get forty miles to Mallaig, there was suddenly this almighty grinding noise from the underneath the van, metal grinding on metal, followed by metal grinding on tarmac. The prop shaft had broken and was gouging huge chunks out of the road. The sound was awful. Really awful. I nearly puked, it was that bad. It sounded like we were in a plane that was going down. Andy, being a bit drunk, thought we were about to explode and was shouting ‘bale out!…every man for himself!’ whilst wrestling with the side door. Everyone was shouting and jumping up and down, women were fainting, I hit the brakes and the van screeched slowly to a halt. Sure enough the prop shaft was broken, but thankfully there was no other serious damage, except to about 200 yards of the A830. It could have been much worse. I have been told the prop shaft could have flipped the van over, probably killing everyone spectacularly. That’s how you want to go, my friends! Lynrd Skynrd style. At this point we are realising that we have missed the ferry but we need to get to Rum so we can play on the Sunday, and get paid, so we can pay to fix the van and get home. It was also at this point that I realise that we need one hell of a Plan B, and also that everyone except for me was pretty drunk. Since I knew the van wasn’t going anywhere, I cracked open a beer. To calm my shattered nerves.

The breakdown guy showed up an hour later and told us he can fix the van but probably not until Monday. I couldn’t believe it. I thought the van was a write off. We got him to drop us at the train station at Bavenie. The plan was to get the train to Mallaig and get Lachie to take us over to Rum on his rib. That’s a wee speedboat type thing for all you land lubbers out there. We had used his services on a couple of occasions over the last few years and were just going to hope that our gear didn’t get too wet on the ride over. And hope that he was reasonably sober. I have to admit, I didn’t like this plan at the time. Too many ‘ifs’ and ‘maybe’s’ and ‘hopefully not drown’s in it. However we needed to get to Rum. We needed that gig cheque.

It was a two hour wait for the train. Two hours of drinking and taking silly photos. By the time it came, everyone was drunk. Probably for the best. Beautiful scenery on the way up and finally we arrived in Mallaig. Me met our mate Dod Copeland there. By this time, the whisky was out and Andy was so drunk he was refused alcohol in the Co Op in Mallaig, but he wasn’t as drunk as Lachie, our boat-man. He was really drunk, but by this stage we didn’t care, so we loaded up the boat, covered the gear in tarpaulin and suited up with our life jackets. Lachie disappeared back into the pub so we had to send someone to bring him back to the boat. Finally we were off. As we were leaving I could have swore I saw an albatross. Somebody said that it was bad luck. I disagreed. The albatross only became bad luck after some idiot shot it.

We crossed over the sea to Skye. There’s nothing like salt water in the face and a morbid fear of drowning to sober you up. Picked up a couple of hitchhikers. Then on to Rum just in time for the sun going down. Lachie got us there in fine shape, in less than an hour which was a lot quicker than the ferry would have been. We actually arrived not much later than we were supposed to, and its not often you get to arrive at your gig in a speedboat. We got to the campsite and got pitched just as the light faded. After warming up next to a campfire for half an hour, it was off to the party.

We always manage to arrive a day after everyone else just as the party is peaking which is excellent. We also arrived in time to see the Peatbog Faeries yet again, who are amazing. They played for hours, right up till four in the morning. The Saturday night was a bit of a haze for people I guess. Once the drink and drugs take hold then all bets are off. Sam and Andy were so hammered that they looked like their spines had been replaced with strips of blu tack. It was a mess. I remember at one point crying out loudly in my best Dr Thompson impersonation, ‘we’re right in the middle of a fucking reptile zoo! And somebody’s giving booze to these goddamn thing!’ Apologies to anyone who may have had a negative encounter with anyone in the band that night. I know that some people may have been slightly upset by our somewhat forward manner, but in our defence, we had been having a difficult day. We drank for most of the night, and I know that by lunch time on Sunday, a few people hadn’t been to bed. By the time we took the stage at around 2pm, Andy, Colin and Sam (amongst others) could hardly stand.

We went on and as usual by the end of the first song, the island was awake again, and the party was back on track. I’m not sure how long we played but it felt like ages. Andy was so drunk he did the entire gig impersonating Borat, so we were temporarily the famous Kazakhstani Bombskare. In spite of that we came back on for an encore. It was a great day and after all the hassle of just getting onto the stage, it felt like one of the best gigs we’ve ever done. Thanks to everyone again for putting up with our drunken ramblings and again, apologies to anyone offended. All in all it was a terrific festival. Hopefully it wont be the last one. Sandy and Felicity, the organisers, invited us to play at their wedding next year, so we’ll apply the pressure when we‘re back up there. We were also invited to several other smaller festivals on the strength of it, so fingers crossed we’ll be back up at some point. And we got our gig cheque. Our ticket home.

After that a lot of people were leaving the island, including my mate Tim, who agreed to take Andy and Analene down the road with them. Most of us had to stay till the following day to come back with the van, so once we had resigned ourselves to that, it was back to the party. I bumped into Pete ‘Solenoid‘ that night, formerly of the Fountainbridge Collective. I also remember coming to an agreement with Iain Copeland that we should swap bands. I would drum for the Peatbog Faeries, and he would play guitar for Bombskare. Lets face it, nobody would notice. Two money grabbing weedgie bastards, we’re identical. Aye, that’s whisky for ye. Great night had by all. The following day we were still not sure whether the van was actually going to be ready. Plus we didn’t know how we were getting from Mallaig to Fort William with all our gear. We had some help from our Becky, and John from Croft No. 5, who between them, seem to know everybody north of Oban. They secured us transport to Fort William. Once there we discovered the van was fixed and running like a dream. I still can’t believe it.

So all in all, eventful. At least we are still in one piece. Next week its Aberdeen. Did I mention, we might be supporting Toots and the Maytals this year? I’m not usually a praying man, but Elvis, if you’re up there, please tell Superman to make it happen….

Grumpy Old Men

When I was 10 I had my IQ tested by a child psychologist. Its 155, which means that I’m smarter than most of you reading this, poor bastards. The reason I mention this is that its relevant to how we ended up supporting The Skatalites on the Scottish leg of their tour.

Four years ago we played up in Lochinver with the amazing Croft No. Five. That was the night of the lunar eclipse and the night I nearly broke my arm using it to arm wrestle our seven foot tall drummer, Mark Bray. I had beaten Roland, our van driver and thought I could beat the tall one, even though his arms are about a foot longer than mine. I’m a genius, but I’m also a steamer. Anyway, Niall Robertson who promoted it turned up at our gig in Inverness last New Year. I suggested getting back over there some time. At which point he says it will need to be later in the summer because: “I might be getting The Skatalites across next year.”

That got my big brain going, and within hours I had an idea. I said to him “Do you know what would make those Skatalites gigs even more awesome? If you had another Ska band, a big one, preferably local to North Britain, who could warm up the crowd for The Skatalites, to open for them, so to speak.”

“Yeah, but where to find such a band?” True, it was a thorny issue. We parted ways knowing it was a beautiful dream. I went to bed that night with something nagging me at the back of my mind. I dreamt that I was in a room with nine other guys and that we were making a racket, and I had a guitar and I kept breaking strings, and it didn’t matter how quickly I replaced the stings, they kept breaking faster than I could replace them, and someone was hitting me over the head with a trumpet every fifteen minutes. And then I woke up and had an epiphany. I phoned Niall. “My god, man! I’m IN a Ska band! WE could support The Skatalites. We’ll even let them use OUR gear.” “My god”, he said. “You’re a genius! Lets do it!” And that’s pretty much how it happened. Thanks to my incredible brain!

The first problem was that we couldn’t support them on the Thursday in Inverness because of the difficulties in getting the time off work for some of the boys, so I agreed to drive up a day earlier with all our gear so that the Skatalites could use it at the first gig. I travelled up to Mad Hatters in Inverness on Thursday to meet the promoters. Got there; set up. The Skatalites arrived and man are they old. Lloyd Knibb is 76! He was in the band at the beginning in 1964. He invented the Ska beat. Lester Stirling is 71and he’s still amazing. The legendary Vin Gordon, or Don Drummond Junior as he’s known, is 57. And so on. Add all their ages up and they are twice as old as The Rolling Stones. I discovered a few things about them over the course of the Thursday. One, they are still really good. Two, they are grumpy old men. Fair enough, they have been gigging for years obviously, but also just about every day since January this year, and have done a lot of travelling. They had just flown in from Dublin the night before, and before that they were in St Petersburg in Russia, so yeah, they were tired and some of them were grumpy. Three, they didn’t like to sound check. They just walked on stage and played, but then had a good moan at the engineer because they couldn’t hear anything. And four, they liked a smoke. That might not surprise you, but they just skinned up in the venue and nobody stopped them. After the show, I struck all the gear down, and Niall and I headed North that night to Inchnadamph, near Lochinver. The Skatalites were to stay in Inverness so Niall and I had this whole hotel to ourselves. On the way up we encountered dozens of stag, as apparently Inchnadamph is Gaelic for meeting place of the deer. After a few drinks to congratulate ourselves on our cleverness we crashed out, and the next morning it was off to Lochinver.

I hadn’t been there since 2003 but it hadn’t changed. A beautiful wee town with a harbour that looks out on to the Atlantic. The only thing I had to do all day was set up our backline again and wait for the boys to arrive. Sam arrived first followed by the rest. I introduced the boys to The Skatalites and explained to a stunned Skatalites manager what a great pleasure it was for him to meet Bombskare. They deigned to sound check that day, and we got to see a rare treat; The Skatalites arguing about which way to play a particular song. I was so pleased. There’s hope for us. Once we sorted all that out, we all went up to the big house and had a meal of venison, prawns and fish. Yum. The big house in Lochinver is communally owned by the town. Any time a big estate like that goes on sale, the community get the first chance to buy it. So the town bought it. I was explaining this to The Skatalites manager, how this was a perfect example of communism in action, and how we should apply this principle to other places like, say Manhattan. He wasn’t too pleased. I didn’t like him either.

We went on stage to a mobbed Lochinver Village Hall. They hadn’t forgotten us. We played a reasonably short set of about forty minutes. Then came The Skatalites and the place went mental. It was exactly as I told Niall. If you have The Skatalites by themselves its going to be terrific. If you have Bombskare warming up the crowd first and then The Skatalites, then its something else and you’re going to have invent a new word for it. They played for ages and at the end of the night they were pleased they had made the journey. After that we all got smashed and the details become hazy. I know there was a beach party after the after show party. People were rolling in at eight in the morning as breakfast was being made. It was great. We had lunch before we headed back down to Edinburgh, where we all got to enjoy watching Mike eat a burger and roll with a knife and fork. Some memories are priceless.

We met up with The Skatalites in Glasgow at the School of Art on the Sunday. They had played the big day out thing in Falkirk. We sound checked for them, and they turned up moaning even worse because now they were even older than when we had left them the day before, and now they were playing two gigs in one day, bless. This gig was a benefit gig for MOJO, Miscarriages of Justice Organisation. One of the Birmingham Six was there. Jerry Dammers was supposed to be playing a DJ Set, as was D Wayne Love of Alabama Three. I love Alabama Three. However both of them couldn’t make it so it was left up to us and the old gadgies to put on a show. We played pretty much the same set we did the other night, but we included a cover of ‘Ghost Town’ in lieu of Jerry Dammers on the ones and twos. The Skatalites were awesome again. It was great to see Lloyd Knibb playing my bubblegum pink Tama Granstar again. Legend. It was a great night. Even the manager had chilled out. Just as well because we had toyed with the idea of kicking him down the stairs with a cry of ‘No quite got the hang o that Scottish gravity yet pally’. We even got a picture of the legendary Lester Sterling in one of our T shirts. After the show they were heading to the States for a few days rest, and then they were off to South America. As I left I said, ‘I know how you feel guys. We’re in Glenrothes next week.’

Thanks to Vin, Kevin, Val, Lester and Lloyd. Thanks to Niall and Craig for programming the events, thanks to everyone in Lochinver and at the Glasgow School of Art, thanks to everyone who came to see us, and most of all thanks to me because I’m a freaking genius!

24

Get this. In recent news, researchers have identified the hitherto unknown element Kryptonite in a cave in Serbia. Even though the element is only actually referenced in fiction, and isn‘t real…it makes you think… ... my God, is nothing safe. In any event I’ve ordered my solid lead pork pie hat, just in case.

Confusion. Ambiguity. Mis-information. Ignorance. Enlightment. Panic. Relief. What would a Bombskare gig be without them. In other words, there was a cloud of uncertainty over the Studio 24 gig, as it was tied in with the aborted Cathouse gig, but there were personnel changes, and the right hand didn’t know what the left hand was doing, and yah-dee- yah-dah, etc, etc. The Edinburgh gig only happened at the last minute, but we’re glad it did. We originally intended to have The 44’s from Glasgow, and Short Notice from Aberdeen, but Taking Chase thankfully took the place of The 44’s after they had to bow out. Short Notice are outstanding. We played with them a few months ago and were so impressed that we insisted they come down to play in Edinburgh. Their band comprises two brothers, just like us, but they get along with each other, and they also feature a double bass player who plugs his double bass into a bass amp, which impresses me greatly. I do impress easily, but I checked with others, and this was impressive. Short Notice didn’t disappoint, and received one of the highest accolades possible; a reasonably warm reception from an Edinburgh audience. Man, were they pleased! Taking Chase are brilliant. And they were brilliant on Saturday. It’s always great to play with those chappies. They are neck and neck with Big Hand for the coveted Band Most Often Played with Bombskare award. Close runner ups are Root System and Joe Viterbo. But we’re playing with both of them again soon over in the Kingdom before we head to Rum, so the scores on the doors will change.

It was one of those gigs where we didn’t play particularly well, made silly mistakes we’ve never made before and probably never will again, but it was still a cracking night and a good show. Highlights included completely fucking up the beginning of Hand of Fate, Sam’s drum break in Don’t Give It All Away, and also the beginning of Panic Button. Nice. Also, before we went on, Sam had been necking Sambuca in imitation of Kev from Root System who has a penchant for drinking a bottle of the stuff before he goes on. Unfortunately Sam got it all over his hands, and when he started to play, blisters formed, the skin broke and the next thing he is bleeding all over his kit. By the end of the set the kit looked like it should be cordoned off with yellow tape, CSI style. Most importantly, he played through the pain because he is that committed to the Ska.

And get this. We have actually started mixing the album. We have vocals and harmonica still to record which will probably be later this month, but we have begun the preliminary mixing stage, using Fistful of Dynamite as our template because its instrumental. Initial reports are good. We’ll try and sort out a preview somehow. Our next gig will be with The Skatalites in Lochinver and then in Glasgow. We’ll be showing the old timers how to do it Scottish style. Me know it!

Melius tarde, quam nunquam

Been really sloppy in updating the blog over the last seven or eight weeks. I sometimes get too busy to sit down in front of the computer for weeks and inevitably writing is the last thing I want to do. Sometimes I can’t be bothered with the morbid self attention, and sometimes I’m just too drunk, and the last thing I want to do is post a blog when I’m drunk.

Or is it? No, I’ve thought it through, and definitely not.

I don’t know why we had never played Dunfermline before. Its really close. Right across the bridge and you’re there. We gate crashed a gig that was originally supposed to be Esperanza and Root System, but then became a triple header with us on last. I had never been to Monty’s before, but I believe we’ll be back before the end of the year. Cracking wee place and an excellent wee sound system, and also a great visual set up for the backdrop of the stage. And a terrific crowd. We ended up at a party in Dunfermline because it would have been rude not to. A great night had by all. Although I heard that Kev from Root System had a wee whitey at the end of the night. Kids these days! Thanks to Ska -matics for putting us on and for giving us a cracking night.

Next gig was in Glas Vegas again supporting the formidable Skaville UK, featuring the legendary Rhoda Dakar, who amongst other things sung on ‘Free Nelson Mandela’. Everybody kept wanting to be photographed Ms Dakar, and why not. Thanks to her Nelson Mandela was freed. Well that’s how I see it. In the same way that Spike Milligan helped bring down Hitler. Esperanza were first, then we played a short set without any covers for a change. Usually there’s a sneaky Toots or Frank Zappa number, but not that night. We stuck to our own tunes and played a decent set. Skaville UK were excellent again, and played lots of new tunes from their forthcoming album, as well as lots of their old tunes from their days in Bad Manners and The Selecter. I suppose they have to really. Honourable mention to our Tom for guesting on Do Rocksteady. Not a busy night unfortunately, but we were glad to be there, if only to meet the lovely Ms Dakar, aw shucks!

Aye, so the next gig is in Edinburgh, n that! Should be a belter, n that! Cannae wait, n that!

Meanwhile, back at the lab, progress continues on the bands long overdue album. All the little sound gremlins back at the evil professors lab (in Portobello, of course), have been working non stop round the clock sorting the EQ problems of the bass guitar, particularly around the 80Hz range. It’s a thorny issue, to compress or not to compress, that is the question. Whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous reverb and digital flanging, threshold and attack, and by opposing them, somehow ending up agreeing with them. I can’t decide. Sometimes I think, what the fuck are we up to? Sometimes I think, maybe we should get somebody else to do it. Usually at this point someone reminds me of the horrendous cost if somebody else did it, at which point I’ll say, why don’t we just do it ourselves? Yeah, it’ll only take two years. That’s no time. Like a jail sentence for burglary.