There and Back Again

In a city in Scotland there lived a band. Not a nasty, run down, post industrial slag heap of a city, filled with hooded top wearing, knife carrying hooligans on every street corner, and chip shops that sold downright dangerous food, like Glasgow or Dundee: it was a nice city with bistros and book shops and Waitrose. It was Edinburgh and that meant comfort. For some.

It had a perfectly round city bypass like a doughnut, which sometimes wasn’t completely useless. It had a castle on a hill, lots and lots of pubs, and once a year all the useless bastards in the world would arrive in the city and block all the streets, mainly in August. It was a very comfortable city usually, in spite of the traffic wardens and MSPs, and the band was fond of living there.

This band was a reasonably well-regarded band, and their name was Bumberskwat, sorry, Bombskare. They had lived and played in Edinburgh for a long time and were respected by the locals not only because they played loud and fast but because they absolutely never had any adventures. Even their set lists were completely unadventurous, with songs in A Major and C Major, and lots of cheesy covers of The Specials and Toots and the Maytals. This is a story of how, one day, the band decided to go on an adventure and found themselves doing and saying lots of strange and unusual things.

One day a long time ago, about three weeks roughly, the band were scheduled to play in their home city of Edinburgh, with legendary Ska outfit The Toasters which in of itself would be a super adventure for most bands, but for Bumberskwat, sorry Bombskare, this would not pass muster. Andy Bo bandy Pennycuik, chief instigator in the band declared, “This isn’t even remotely adventurous enough. Why I have bigger adventures each morning on my way to the chemist for my prescription barley sugar.”

“I agree”, said Murray, stifling a yawn. “We did this last year and I was bored to tears”.

“You know what would make this gig more adventurous?” said Papa Joe, the oldest and wisest member of the band. “We could play a gig in a far away place, like London, the night before the gig in Edinburgh”. He took a long draw on his big clay pipe and blew a giant smoke ring. “That means we would have to play two gigs and drive a round trip of about eight hundred miles. That would be exciting.”

“Is that even possible?” asked Colin, the shy and gullible trumpet. Player. “I don’t know,” said Andy Bo bandy, “but there’s only way to find out.” So they all went to speak to Scott, the band’s logistics expert and senior meteorologist.

“Well, I suppose its possible” he said whilst peering at a giant map on his desk, through a large monocle over his right eye. “There’s a road that goes all the way there.” He peered closer. “But it goes past this hellish looking place called… Bir..ming..ham.” He shuddered and dropped his monocle. He turned to peer through a giant telescope pointed out the window at an ominous grey sky. “Also there’s a terrible storm hitting England just now, worst in ages. Could be risky.”

“There you go again. Why do you have to hit me with those negative waves so early in the morning?” said Colin. “Think sunny skies and we’ll have sunny skies”. So with that bit of insane optimism it was settled. The band Bumberskwat, sorry, Bombskare, would be having an adventure after all. A super adventure.

They set off in three vehicles, always being careful to separate the three most important members of the band into three different vehicles, in case of accidents. Andy in one, Murray in the other and Sam in the other, naturally. The trip started well, only one hour late in departing. They made it out of Scotland easily enough and half way down England with little incident. It wasn’t until they reached the urban death labyrinth known as Birmingham that they ran into trouble. The traffic had slowed to a crawl. And the weather was getting particularly inclement.

By the time they reached London it was rush hour, but because time flows differently the closer you are to the equator, rush hour in London is actually four hours. The band arrived on time barely, and went on stage to a respectable sized audience who had braved the weather to come and watch the respectable sized Bumberskwat, sorry Bombskare, do that hoodoo, that they do, so well. Pleased with their performance and the outcome of their adventure thus far, they retired to the bar for some light refreshments and relaxation. Little did they know what tomorrow was to bring.

After a rude awakening with surprisingly little panic and shouting, they started off from London on time but had only ten hours to make it back for a sound check in Edinburgh at around eight thirty. Fortunately they had equipment waiting for them at the venue, and The Toasters would be the first band on. Things started well but before they had even escaped London, traffic came to a complete standstill. The weather was terrible causing a truck to overturn spilling its load, and the road was closed for an hour.

After this setback there was another problem. Jay, the band mascot, who isn’t normally allowed to drive unsupervised, found himself unsupervised when the M4 motorway split into M6 and M1. Mike, Murray and Tom were all asleep when Jay took the wrong motorway and headed up the M1, which, it is true, would bring you back to Scotland, but is, as we shall see, the wrong motorway. The other two cars made it back to Scotland with about an hour to spare. Meanwhile, as the weather worsened dramatically, Jay and company got as far as Newcastle where they discovered that all the roads were flooded. Morpeth was underneath three feet of water, three people had died because of it, the M1 north of Newcastle was closed, and most of the other roads were closed because of landslides and flooding. After being directed up the Coldstream road, they got as far as actually into Scotland before they hit another road block, to be told that they would have to turn back all the way to Newcastle and find another route. By now the band was running out of time, and were actually facing the possibility of going on stage with only six members. The doors were open and The Toasters would be on soon. After careful study of various maps they realised there was only one other road back, the coast road that did not look promising. At this point when things were looking blackest, as they were heading back to England, they came across a B road that wasn’t on any of the maps. They had been warned not to stray from the path but by this point, after nearly eleven hours driving, they gambled and took the side road. What did they have to lose?

By this time The Toasters were on stage. And as the Toasters played, the rest of Bumberskwat, sorry Bombskare waited and prayed for good luck. Even Colin, normally optimistic with a cheery demeanour seemed depressed. The night was surely doomed. The die was cast. The Fates had spoken.

And then, the gods smiled! The scary little B road brought the car out onto the motorway north of the flooding. They had the whole road in front of them completely clear of any traffic all the way back to Edinburgh. It was a miracle. After racing back furiously they arrived at the venue with fifteen minutes to spare before the band had to get on stage, and the night was saved. Hooray!! Afterwards the band agreed that it had all been very exciting but from now on they would prefer a nice quiet life with very little excitement, and absolutely no adventures ever again. And they never did, living happily ever after. Yeah, right!

At The Mountains of Madness and Other Tales of Suspense

Money. We need money. And it’s not just the impending financial catastrophe. Do you think studio time is cheap or non addictive? We’ve become hooked on it. We’ve come up with lots of crazy ideas and schemes to raise cash. One such idea was a television show called Bombskare Celebrity Force-feed, where we get hold of various ‘Slebs’, hold them down and force bridies into them. Or my own personal favourite, Bombskare Guitar Hero, where numpties would pay to come round to my house and play air guitar to Bombskare tunes whilst I threw things at them. Or we could get people to pay us to play really loud and fast ska music and jump around like the mentalists we are. Lets call that Plan A.

To that end, ninety per cent of us ventured north to Lochinver once again in what has become our new annual expedition, spreading our gospel of Ska to the more remote parts of Europe, just like St Andrew and all those early Christian saints and their wacky three in one god. We are the bishops of bounce after all! As you may or may not know Lochinver is way up in the north west of Scotland, way past Inverness and past Ullapool, up into Sutherland. It’s beautiful up there in the mountains; beautiful and terrifying, just like us. Jay elected to miss the trip this time as he had a winning hand at on-line poker. And you can’t blame him for choosing on-line poker over Ska. It combines the convenience of losing all your money with the glamour of typing. Therefore as we were a man down and it was going to be a long trip, we indulged in the luxury of hiring a nine-seater splitter van, complete with home cinema set-up and a lovely deep red interior. It was luxury beyond belief especially when compared to our old police riot van.

It’s a six and a half hour drive but as soon as we arrived we were treated like kings. Food, beer, cable television, what more do you need. It was a good gig. Two hour set and very hot. New tune ‘Freedom Thirty Five’ went well, and we played an extended version of Lloyd Knibb too. Yes, that tune can be a real clock gobbler. Someone was pouring whisky into me during the set. Broke two strings.

After the gig we went up to a beach near the town for a party before the sun came up. Through the forest a bit and then down a gully, past a large scary woodcarving, it can be a hair-raising trip at night, especially if you’re plastered. I seem to remember that someone was feeding us drink through some contraption with a funnel, with the expected consequences. In the end, most of the band passed out on the beach for hours. I was one of the few that braved the trip back through the forest, back to the scary gothic hotel. Great night. Thanks again to Niall and his dad Russell, and of course everyone in Lochinver.

The following day we thought, ‘since we’re already north of everywhere, lets stop off and play Drummonds in Aberdeen’. The only problem was we had twelve hours to kill and only a four-hour drive or so. So after literally lying around in the streets of Lochinver for hours we set off late afternoon and rolled into Aberdeen around nine o’clock set up at Drummonds and went on around midnight as usual. Even though we were hung over and exhausted we played for two hours in a tropical heat. We arrived back in Edinburgh around dawn and around a stone lighter.

It’s not all about the money though. Of course not. We also played at Linkylea again this year. Raising money for sick, orphaned pandas. One of the more unusual fund raising gigs we played recently was over in Glasgow at the Xscape indoor ski slope, with our friends, the Funkylicious Junkstar. Very strange. We played our set in the bar overlooking the ski slope. No one was there but we got paid. And the result is that now we can say almost definitively that our album is finished. Almost. Every time we go into the studio now, it’s the last time, so we are nearly done. Except for mastering. Circle December in your calendars for a hopeful release. If we get the money.

Next gig will be in Edinburgh at Studio 24 with The Toasters again, only this time we’ll be headlining. Nice.

McVities Credit Crunch

Some of you may have noticed that recently the price of everything seems to be going up. Plenty of talk about a so-called credit crunch and a looming recession or depression. I don’t know about you but I’m not concerned about the credit crunch. Sounds like some kind of delicious chocolate biscuit. And any talk about depression only makes it worse, because as everyone knows, all depression is psychological. Think positive.

For instance the huge increase in the cost of diesel has meant that there is, unfortunately, an increase in the cost of Ska. Most people are unaware that it is an expensive business transporting Ska, especially over long distance. So we took a positive approach to the problem and we have found the solution to the astronomical increase in the cost of diesel. From now on we are only going to play gigs that are downhill. Obvious of course, but that’s the genius of this plan, its simplicity. That’s how we ended up playing at Northumbria University in Newcastle the following day from our single launch in Edinburgh. You can see on a map that it’s downhill the whole way.

We met Jenny Bellestar of The Bellestars who was performing with Skaville UK. She made all of us a cup of coffee, which was very kind. Of course nowhere near as good as my famous java, which consists of extra black coffee, a raw egg and my own special ingredient, pure, concentrated ska. Usually three parts ska to two parts coffee. I was polite to her, naturally, as I choked her inferior java over my gag reflex. We also got to meet Rhoda Dakar again. Skaville UK were awesome that night especially because they were featuring Jenny Bellestar and Rhoda Dakar. Jenny sang an amazing version of 54 46. Awesome, like a ska version of Tina Turner. Thanks to Alan H for the photos.

We also did a bit of an impromptu gig at the caves a couple of weeks later. Some of you may have noticed that Sound Control has become Red Dog. The music store chain had gone into receivership and was going bust thanks to not thinking positive enough during this delicious so-called economic downturn. I’m telling you, its all psychological. Anyway the new owner saw us at our single launch and invited us to play at the Red Dog re-launch party at the caves. It’s good playing the Caves because it’s a bit like Bannermans on steroids; like being trapped in a coffin but with enough air to actually survive for a few days.

I would also like to say that we have now got a working, completed mix of our album. Not the final mix but an excellent first draft so to speak. Watch this space.

Crime Of The Century

Thank you to all of you who came down to our single launch the other night. A classic Bombskare gig in Edinburgh and something we should do a bit more often probably. Thanks to all of you who bought a CD also. We hope you enjoy the recordings. Crime of the Century and Bondtrack will be on our forthcoming album. The other two tracks are tracks we recorded live a few months ago, and then hastily remixed with Tim Young about two weeks before the launch. It was a great night thanks to all of you. A special thanks to our guests Andy ‘Big Fat Panda’ Laidlaw, Cammy Sinclair, and of course Vini ‘Van’ Bonar.

I’ve been asked about the single itself but there’s not much to say. Crime of the Century was picked for a single because it was the first track that we finished recording and the first one we finished a mix of, simple as that. It seems to have been a popular choice however, but trust me it was a choice made by default. Its already been remixed for the album. Written during the adverts in Hollyoaks one evening, it took about eight seconds to write and that included the time to find a blue biro. It’s a classic Bombskare tune, rehearsed once, gigging it the following week, and that’s about it.

It was written in 2003 during the run up to the illegal and criminal invasion of Iraq. As soon as Tony Blair said, on the telly with a straight face, that Saddam Hussein could deploy weapons of mass destruction, hitting targets in the UK within forty-five minutes, well, that was the day I quit sniffing glue. Wrote the song straight afterwards. At the time it was fashionable to be anti-War, everybody was doing it. One time at a gig shortly after we debuted Crime, a dude approached me and told me he was thinking of getting tattooed. “What do you think? ‘Death to America’ or ‘Mother’ in gothic script across my chest”? A tough decision admittedly. Safer to go with Death to America; you never know how your feelings towards your mother might change. It’s not that we have anything against war crimes per se, not at all. In fact Bombskare had toyed with the idea of pre-emptively invading Iraq back in the nineties. Not many people know this but Iraq has the world’s second biggest reserve of crude Ska in the world and with world reserves of Ska on the decline, you have to admit, it was a tempting thought. We believed we would be greeted as liberators, we thought the ska revenues would pay for the war effort, and we thought democracy would spring forth and flourish.

We decided against it eventually because the drink wore off thank Christ.

It seems a little bit overstated now of course when we look at the state of the Middle East and the state of the world generally and the world economy in particular, since everything is going so swimmingly. It’s simply that Crime of the Century seems a bit overblown, a bit pompous, a bit Supertramp. Lets face it, its only eight years into the century, even less when it was written. I’m sure there will be much, much worse to come, criminally speaking. Perhaps they might make another sequel to Highlander. With Christopher Lambert playing Sean Connery.

We're Only Happy When We're Listening To Ska

Just been listening to some Ska music. Hmmm, potent stuff. It actually gives me the munchies its that good. Yes, sometimes I’ll have two or three Ska a night and just go crazy. I know it sounds like I have a problem but don’t worry, I’ve got it under control.

In the horrific and unimaginable days before Ska, people used to do all sorts of crazy things for entertainment; dominos, ethnic cleansing, jazz. Frankly the mind boggles to think of it. No one knows for sure where Ska came from or how it was created. Some say that Prometheus stole it from the gods. A much more likely possibility is that it was created in the sixties by scientists at NASA who were working for the Pentagon, seeking a cure for Communism. Whichever explanation is correct I’m glad they did because, well, I’m only happy when I’m listening to Ska.

We played the West End Festival the other day. It’s great to play outdoors on a nice day. We spend too much time in the dark frankly. The Dark Star stage was set up on St Cresswell Street looking down onto Byers Road. Murray was on holiday, to Antarctica I believe, visiting relatives, so Andy and I shared Murray duties; Andy did the low bits and I did the high-pitched girly bits. Yes that’s right, Murray is a girl! I was also playing all the guitar parts, such as they are, and of course broke three strings over two guitars. Right at the begi