- gavin sutherland
diamonds and gold
"A set of stirring, sing-em-like-you-lived-em gems."
"A set of stirring, sing-em-like-you-lived-em gems."gavin sutherland
diamonds and gold
songs and stories part one
I was introduced to
the peculiar world of record promotion at the age of sixteen, playing in a band called A
New Generation. We all hated the name but we were stuck with it thanks to some promoter
guy in London who, for no known reason, was telling everybody that's what we were called.
Anyway, when we got a message from our manager to be outside Hampstead tube station at 5
a.m. we, being green and keen, didn't even ask why, we just went. A publicity bloke met us there and took us up
to the Heath in a cab. There was a lorry parked in the middle of nowhere and a bunch of
people spraying the grass with silver car paint. When the lorry drove away we couldn't
believe our eyes. Oh no! A big wooden home-made spaceship. Oh no! Our instructions
were to sit inside this thing while the word spread around London that an alien craft had
landed on Hampstead Heath. We sat there for ages on a plastic sheet with baby frogs
climbing all over us. Meanwhile, in a phone box not too far away, our media guru was
getting the promotion snowball rolling. The problem was, instead of phoning the papers
(like he was sp'osed to do), he called out the Old Bill! Unbelievable. He'd killed it
stone dead. The police arrived in no time at all, banging all over the spaceship and
telling us that if we didn't "piss off" and take "all the crap" with
us, we would "get done". They were seriously stressed about their time being
wasted by "idiots" and made us carry the thing all the way back to the car park.
About two miles! We were totally knackered and had achieved absolutely nothing.
I thought about re-enacting the events of that morning in celebration of my thirty years
in show business, but, in the end, I decided to go with a CD - WEB notion.
Further investigation
into a favourite area of the Eko guitar with a big Neumann ready to capture every grunt and groan.
What more diversion could a man desire?
Anyway, on with the show. . . . .
Trying to get there, that’s where
the fun is, that’s what it's all about; in fact, I think I would go as far as to say
that that's where it's at. The never ending journey. Talking about never ending journeys,
I remember hitch-hiking up to the Highlands with my brother to see Paul McCartney. We were
young lads with a mission and we needed to talk to somebody about groups and gigs and
songs and all that stuff. The Mac, for obvious reasons, was top of our list. It took about
thirty hours but we found his farm and, yes, we even got to talk to the man himself. He
told us of how he and John (God bless him) wrote off to all the agents around the north of
England for gigs. They used black envelopes and wrote the addresses with silver nail
varnish. They didn't get one reply! I thought about the wooden spaceship. The light shone
from the master's eyes as he told us "It's all out there, if you want it bad enough,
just go and get it." So we did.
When I first moved into West Kensington's bed-sit wonderland, wide-eyed and
gig-less, I spent many long nights trying to work out what I was looking for. All I came
up with was a long list of things I didn’t want. But I'd made a start. I was there
with the lads, having a go.
Golden dreams, fall and shatter,
Still I tell myself, it doesn't matter,
The weight lies heavy, on low resistance,
I may not win the fight but I'll go the distance.
Silver lines, that lead to nowhere,
Restless minds, all headed somewhere,
A heart of stone, no need to cry,
Well I may not understand but still I try.
The fallen angels, make their plans,
Information, changes hands,
To seek contentment, in vain persistence,
Well I may not win the fight but I'll go the distance.
I owe a lot to Stoke-on-Trent. I spent my formative years in and
around the City, watching the Potters at the Victoria Ground and trying to dance at the
Top Rank. It was there, on a Saturday night in 1965, under hot dance floor lights and
generating all the soul-power a boy could muster, that I foolishly attempted an
unrehearsed James Brown heel-spin. The Tops were just coming to the end of a verse of
Loving You Is Sweeter Than Ever and I wanted to under-pin the glorious rise into the
chorus with a hot move. It started to go wrong immediately. Levi shouted
"Because" and a split second later I hit the deck with a sickening thud. Yeah,
Jimmy Mack was on his back. Slightly dazed, I looked up to see the girl I'd fancied for
ages staring down at me in fits of laughter.
It's true, love can break your heart.
I was hoping for a sweet surprise,
some compromise, a change of heart.
But you never seem to listen to me and it was plain to see, right from the start.
What's this I hear from everybody, the rumour that's going down.
Meanwhile, the rain comes tumbling down on Hardluck Town.
I was looking for a better way, a chance to say just how I feel,
But I couldn't find the words to say and this aching heart I can't conceal,
So what's this you're telling everybody, the rumour that's going round,
Meanwhile, the rain comes tumbling down on Hardluck Town.
Turn away from this situation, you'll see a heart that's true.
This whole mess is really getting to me,
And I know that it's getting to you.
Meanwhile the rain comes tumbling down on Hardluck Town . . . .
Some people like to go down town,
They like to party when the sun goes down,
Late night bars, cruising the street,
They're dancing to the highlife beat.
We’re in the kitchen and we’re doing fine,
An old piano and a glass of wine
Sweet soul music on the radio,
So glad we’ve got nowhere to go.
Dancing in the kitchen, late at night
Dancing in the kitchen, in the candlelight,
Dancing in the kitchen, just me and you,
Doing the dance that we want to do.
Some people got it all worked out,
They like to tell you what it's all about,
Doesn't matter what they do or say,
We're gonna dance the night away.
It was about 2
o'clock on a January morning when a wild north wind blew the storm into Gamrie Bay. I'd
been working with David in his little studio, down on the shores of the old Seatown. We
stood in amazement as lightning flashed great silver lines across the sky, thunder roared
above us and the churning sea threw rocks hard against the sea wall. Awesome!
David was totally dedicated to the country music thing. When he asked me what he
should do about getting his songs known I thought of the wooden spaceship but then I
remembered the master's words. "It's all out there", I told him, "if you
want it bad enough, just go and get it." So he did. The Ancient Wheel had turned
another circle, another spark from the Sacred Fire.
David packed his bags and moved to Knoxville after the storm. I think he's
somewhere in Florida now.
The wind was coming off the sea
that night,
Blowing hard on me that night,
The sky above was clear and bright,
After the storm.
There was something in the air that night,
Something kind of rare that night,
I think I must have seen the light,
After the storm.
Standing in the driving rain,
Feeling like a man insane,
Would I ever be the same again?
After the storm.
I was looking for a friend of mine,
Another place, another time,
I didn't see the warning sign,
After the storm.
It's time to take the road again,
Carrying the load again,
Reaping what I sowed again,
After the storm.
I met Stanley a few months ago. He's a traveller, from a long line of travelling
folk. He told me about his childhood days, when his family "traivilt" the roads
of the Highlands and North East. Like all those who had gone before him, he learned about
life from the songs and stories of his people and the "ever-present spirits of his
ancestors". Stanley is one of the few remaining Keepers of the Lore of Ancient
Caledonia. He's a story teller, a singer of songs and a worthy piper. He visited East
Tennessee State University a while back, meeting up with story tellers and singers from
other nomadic cultures. As he walked into the meeting hall an old Inuit woman called
him over. She knew nothing of Stanley but instantly recognised the spirit of a travelling
man. "Come and sit here," she said. "You're one of us."
I remember when I was a kid,
Plans I made, things I did,
Took my chances, made my bid,
Drifting on the breeze.
Wild emotions, and mixed up schemes,
Holding on to a young man's dreams
But things ain't always the way they seem,
Distant memories.
Years roll by, but nothing's changed,
The good and bad times are still the same,
Deal the cards, play the game,
Mysteries unfold.
It's a long road, it's a hard road,
I don’t want diamonds, I
don’t need gold,
I have no dreams of glory
And wealth untold.
I’ll raise a glass to sweet success,
I wish you all-good fortune
And happiness.
Thanks for your visit, you're welcome any time.
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