Football's Cooming Hoom: Scotland's World Cup Anthems

If you think the worst thing about Scotland’s first World Cup since 1998 might be zero wins, zero goals and an early flight home, think again. A lack of a recognised international level goalscorer; a base heavy squad (ten defenders?); a track record of falling back on Steve Clarke-ian hoofball – this is not a pre-tournament analysis article, but rest assured, none of these will directly contribute to the potential horrors of Scotland’s return to the big one. Instead, look to YouTube, streaming services and TikTok for the folk who have hitched themselves to the Tartan Army bandwagon for a bit of Jules Rimet rub by adding to the infamous pantheon of World Cup anthems.

For science and The Skinny, I have subjected myself to, picked apart and even sometimes begrudgingly enjoyed at the very least parts of some of the tunes that have filtered through in the weeks and months since Kenny McLean’s steady strike wafted over the head of a floundering Kasper Schmeichel. With the risk of initiating a discourse as exhausting as that of Scottish football officiating, let’s not beat around the bush: these ditties are one-offs, often tongue-in-cheek, fall firmly into the bracket of ‘novelty song’, and have a quality ceiling so low that a mere sprinkle of humour or originality would immediately punt such recordings into the very best of this crop. Of course, World Cup songs, even for the Scottish, are not a recent concept. Who can forget hit single We Have a Dream by (checks notes) the entire 1982 Scotland World Cup squad? The dulcet tones of Kenny Dalglish and Graeme Souness cracked the top five of the UK charts! Or the better, but still pretty risible, 1998 Del Amitri effort Don’t Come Home Too Soon, the tone of which tells you all you need to know about Scottish football fans’ admittedly self-deprecating approach to supporting their sporting heroes.

But to 2026, the prevalence of social media raconteurs and an industry gripped by the need to latch on to anything that could funnel attention. There isn’t just one (cough) composition – often replete with smoothed out self-shot videos and maybe even AI-generated artwork – vying for a place in history. Now, I know the Hampden stands will often belt out unrepentant bangers that find their way into the wider public consciousness – see: the Proclaimers, Yes Sir, I Can Boogie and, sure, the national anthem – but these simply do not count. If you covered some such song, or a by-the-numbers “no Scotland, no party”-style techno banger, it’s been stricken from the record (as some of the qualified recordings have been stricken from my memory for mental health reasons).

Ok, ok, let’s get to these much-mooted songs already. Well, there’s the good, the bad and the wtf. JJ Bull’s LCD Soundsystem-aping sprechgesang electroclash (words I did not expect to write in this article) is easily the best of the bunch. He calls it the Very Unofficial Scotland World Cup Song, and while factually accurate, it’s actually more of an anti-World Cup anthem, with real jokes and an ability to match the tone of its forefathers (namely, Del Amitri, see above). I listened to this song four times, which is eight times more than some of the others.

As I burrowed deeper into an internet hole of Gerry Cinnamon wannabes I thought I may not escape from, five words danced into my inbox like a shot of the finest amphetamine: “metal Gaelic World Cup song”. Gun Ghaol’s effort, Gun Alba, is certainly unique. Is it good? I recuse myself from the case, your honour. The mix of bagpipes, thrashing guitar chords and DJ scratching with the gurgling and spitting of cutting lines like, 'there’s only like 50 other teams, easy' is a level of self-awareness worthy of praise. That a song coinciding with a competition which is fleecing fans and becoming a pool party for the super-rich can combine community, genre, language and intentional stupidity is genuinely moving.

Inevitably, there’s the lowest common denominator entries. The Poundland One Direction of Just the Brave's Go Scotland Go is very of this time, with its cultural references begging you for recognition. No-names with an acoustic guitar, a plodding dance beat, an unenviable ability to rip off anything remotely familiar, and the most inane hype lyrics you could think of, are seemingly infinite: Scotland’s on the Way (Bucks' Bravehearts), Back On Tour (Farrah Robb), and The Saltire’s Back (Ole Ole) (Phil Ciarletta). It’s all in good fun I know, but spend some time in this pocket and you will be hard pressed not to become deeply cynical. The worst version of this is Nathan Evans and SAINT PHNX’s Home, which is music as a rebranding exercise – a previously released track that’s had a few player names chucked in and been given a high value social media campaign. The latter hasn’t been good enough to scrub evidence of Evans in an England top from the internet though, which somewhat sours the effect.

Even Belle and Sebastian have got in on it. It Only Takes One Lion is actually fine! A largely benevolent acousto-pop dance-a-long, only really worth mentioning because the Glasgow band have had the good decency not to actually officially release it (yet, anyway), skyrocketing its novelty clout and allowing me to look over the weirdly out of touch clanger: 'This is Scotland, where everybody knows you start with nothing'. [Editor's note: they have since officially released it.]

Well, my algorithm is now fucked. I’m doomed to stare eternally into the abyss of troubadours eerily smiling in their blue jersey that 'Scott McTominay scores the goals and wears the number four' in the style of Jennifer Lopez and Pitbull’s On The Floor, thus ruining a stone cold classic. I didn’t even get to the pseudo-trad that is everywhere. I reject Calum MacPhail's Bonnie Wee Team.

The antidote is the Codist boys’ Football’s Cooming Hoom. Originally released for the Euros, and re-released to coincide with Scotland’s efforts in North America, its wistful, childlike reveries were too irresistible to disqualify. Is it too unlikely that football is cooming hoom to Scotland? At least we’re in amongst it. Glorious failure and all that.