Forums: Art and Culture: Caledonia Dreaming?

The other day I watched a programme called “Caledonia Dreamin’” on the BBC. Have you seen it? Briefly, it reflects on the history of Scottish music from the Postcard years up until the present time. If you missed it then I’d suggest you ask a friend if they happened to record it.

I forget sometimes how much of an impact these bands have had on us and the impact that they had on the movement of politics in Scotland and the musical development that has been achieved. This is, however, not the end of the story as I feel that this musical growth has never stopped and at this very moment, Scotland has the richest music scene on this side of the hemisphere and is constantly threatening to boil over from a broth that just gets tastier with every serving.

Each weekend I’m blown away by the Belts talent who turn up in defiance to make themselves heard at Break Out The Jams. However, I’m confused as to why the majority of these artists are not already signed and making a living from their music. I’m dumfounded that there is no direct, stable environment set in place to help nurture and focus these guys, alongside a spoonful of parental encouragement to help them realise that what they’re creating doesn’t stop at the birth of a bitter melody, but drives deep down into a nations psyche, achieving the ultimate arse kicking that pushes others to take stock of their lives and face facts about what really drags them out of bed in the morning, what really makes them crave to pull the finger out and shift the stick into gear.

Who am I to have my say? I’m a voice like everyone else and, like most, I sometimes forget that I have one. I have been rubbed up the right and wrong way by this programme. I remember in my teens that every time I switched on the radio I would hear Scottish bands, I was excited by Scottish sports, there was never a divide between the people that pronounced their RRRs or articulated their TTTs. I watched unions and countrymen fight for what they believed in and I felt it was crystal that being a Scotsman distinguished us Scottish men (and our bonnie lassies) from our European counterparts, or did I lose my King to a Rook and turn my back on the flag?

Without changing gears too much, I’ll get to the point! Lately, I’ve sensed a creeping comformity with my beloved dear green place. I can’t put my finger on it – just like a virus has the ability to creep up on someone when the body has given clear indication that afoot was the inevitable – our diaspora seems to be carelessly meandering towards the soft jaws of a culture, tradition and identity lost!

We may clutch onto the worn torn drapes of our designated flags and front the swaggering hips that spout our rhetoric on stage, but not a jot do I see the mighty word being spread like I do than when I encounter Scotlands unsigned renegade of lyrical pioneers, poets and musicians every weekend across this patch of The Dalriada.

Maybe that’s the beauty of the underground, maybe that’s the beauty of a subculture, is that what we’re realising? How do we keep that magic true to the movida, whilst informing the globe that the best kept secret society of modern day beat poets are exchanging diction in venues like hot pies in the shadows of Alba.

Influxed by a rush to the head and a helpful prescription of legal pills, I go on to point out that these spoon-fed handouts from the media that cover Scottish arts and culture are very few and far between and when we ARE served the scraps from the Executives larder, remarkably, it hits the the spot. Would I be bothering my arse to write this piece if I hadn’t tasted that stale leftover from the Governments end of budget jamboree? Probably not! But why settle for titbits when we have the full bhoona sitting right in front of our face! All that’s needed is to pull the finger out and reach right across the table and take it. It’s ours! It belongs to us! Wake up and smell the bluebells, fight for our music, fight for our rhetoric, fight for our culture lost, stand up and pronounce your RRRs, fuck the subtitles and dumbing down of accents! How much passion and motivation would ring true if more programmes like this were made, that we the Scottish people could identify and relate with, together on a more intimate, cultural and personal level. Give our musicians, our artists, our workers, our kinsmen, a real sense of belonging that has all but faded since I can remember. Bring back the romance, bring back the pioneers, bring back the freethinkers, get a grip of our media industry by the jugular and take control of how we are portrayed across the seas and rewrite the folklore.

We owe it to ourselves and the wee yins not to allow our heritage to disappear under the weight of a heavier hand like we did our mother tongue! Below that superficial, self-indulging godawful crust that portrays our existence with complete indignation to the outside world lives the original spirit of Scotland. The real jewel in this nations musical crown!

Hopefully, sooner rather than never, we will decide once again which side of the road we care to drive on, we will give the Hampden a roar to sing about when at last we bring the beautiful game back home to it’s original childhood playground, we will take stock and teach the magnificent wonders that this underpopulated but great land had pioneered throughout the centuries and no longer will we talk about “fighting when our backs are against the wall”, but stand strong and fast, embrace the challenges and lead the way to enlightenment as our ancestors once did before us. Venture to raise the wee thinkers to finally take hold of their true historical identity, correct the form true to size and re-establish our brilliance on the global map and just maybe, that day will come when we hesitate no longer when questioned about the date of our very own patron saint.

Corduroy Jack

Break Out The Jams

www.myspace.com/breakouthejams

Make no mistake the Scottish live music scene is kicking it just now, but I’m not sure we’re going to resurrect the lost culture of Bella Caledonia simply by trying to cram as many mixed metaphors into a single passage as possible.

Still, it’s always nice to hear a bit of invective. Main question being – how are we going to take hold of ‘our true historical identity’; surely having a de-romanticised but positive POV on what’s really going on is the way forward?