Go Lucky, The Lonely Oatcake and Barn Owl - 13th Note, Glasgow
Posted in SHOFT on Thursday 21st October 2010 at 11:51pm
Its become apparent that age and aging will be the recurring theme of this visit to Glasgow. Turning up the day after my birthday, in the midst of a month which is always turbulent, means that it was never going to be far from the agenda. However, oddly, I seem to be enjoying the first flush of a mid-life crisis which is allowing me to behave cautiously badly. Yes, the late nights take their toll - and the ever present hint of a cold surfaces in the dark mornings - but mostly, I feel strangely free to do what I wish just now.
Hence tonight - originally my 'evening off' of the trip, but populated by a late showing at the 13th Note. It's a fair number of years since I've been downstairs here - and I confess I can't even remember who I saw. Tonight though, things kick off with GoLucky - essentially a one-man show, but helped on this occasion by "Mrs Go Lucky" on vocals and 'rockenspiel' and a colleague on keyboards and violin. Of the three bands on the bill I knew least about them, and possibly left most impressed by them. The tight, cleverly-worded songs were carefully accompanied with enough embellishment to draw out their intricacies. A fragile voice, buoyed when it counted, by his wife with a high, clear and alluring voice of her own. Bonus points to Go Lucky for naming a song "Texaco" - a word I used to obsess over slightly, noting how strange it sounds if you repeat it to yourself over and over. I suppose I had quite a sheltered childhood in some ways...But as for Go Lucky, they are very much worth your time and effort.
Looking around the dungeon which is the downstairs part of the 13th Note, I realised that the only people even close to my age were the parents of one or two of the bands, and some spectators who seemed to be linked to the rather wonderful Glad Cafe project - which recently benefited from a fine compilation CD released by 45 A Side Records featuring one of tonights bands. If this was making me feel old, then the next act surely would. The Lonely Oatcake sound like Hank Williams, had he been reared on Withered Hand and Nirvana. The music is clever, quick-witted and tinged with Ben's sad violin. The lyrics however, are straight from a bedroom or a sixth-form common room. This isn't always bad, and some of the songs, taken in context have an internal charm of their own. However, it gets a little hard to splice the music and the lyric at times, which is a shame - because it's never less than enjoyable to listen to these guys. For me, raised on a diet of Dylan and Neil Young long before I discovered indie music, this is the band I wish I could have been in twenty years ago. The troubling matter is that I couldn't guarantee I wouldn't be in the same band today given half a chance!
Finally, we come to Barn Owl. Despite being 'yet another animal named band', these guys have done incredibly well over the past year or so. Certainly, I've been hearing their names in all sorts of places - which given the huge physical distance between me and the grassroots music scene in Glasgow, is no small feat. It's a stripped down Barn Owl tonight without their organist - who also adds a variety of other tweaks to the sound. However, this didn't change the fact that these gents can write a sterling song! Tight, clever and almost effortlessly, they slipped through a set of occasionally stratospheric pop songs. Dual vocals, with an occasional nod to Pavement, are supported by a really great little rhythm section who hold everthing together. Highlight for me is "When No-one Is Around" which appeared on the aforementioned Glad Cafe CD. It's a complicated song which rewards a good listen. All sheen and pop on the surface, but with hidden depths.
So, I left the 13th Note feeling decidedly old, but also thinking that maybe I could use the excuse of a crisis of confidence to revive my own musical meanderings. I think, perhaps, I need a good night's sleep!
Cristin Mackenzie, Sarah Banjo and Esperi - Macsorleys, Glasgow
Posted in SHOFT on Wednesday 20th October 2010 at 11:30pm
It's been a long day - and Birmingham seems like another country now. Quite a bit has happened since then in fact. I got up early, and disappeared into the bowels of New Street while it was still dark. I felt pretty grim, the usually October cold barely suppressed, and strangley nervous about the days ahead. I stake a lot on my visits to Glasgow - and sometimes expect too much.
As we emerged from the tunnels though, I knew today was going to be just a little bit exceptional. The day had dawned cold and clear, with perfect blue skies. As we sped north, through familiar territory from last week's jaunt, I managed to settle my unease with coffee, music and the chance to really relax for the first time in a long time. I contemplated the announcement of the Comprehensive Spending Review later with some magnanimity - I'd made my predictions, but wondered if this trip might be a last fling before the belt tightened. All the more reason to make it count in one sense. No pressure then...
So fast-forwarding a little, I find myself in Macsorley's - a corner bar near Central Station which I'd wandered by countless times on my travels. Inside, it's tiny and the interior is like a shrine to traditional Scottish pub traditions - a U-shaped bar, surrounded by woodwork. Just dark enough to feel private, just busy enough to feel comfortable. I was immediately at home. It was interesting to study the customers - a mixture of town centre types, out for an early drink, and those here for the entertainment - a more mixed bunch, lots of knitwear and the inimitable Glasgow style. In the corner, big Jim Gellatly appeared to be conversing with a lost Kray triplet. I felt instantly at home, found my corner and settled in.
First up was Cristin Mackenzie from the Isle of Lewis. His gentle songs were carried above and beyond the bar chatter by way of his colleague who deployed a range of instruments, from whistles to what appeared to be Northumbrian Pipes. Occasionally, his voice too soared high above the background noise, which unfortunately prevented him from being heard fully. A talented young guy with lots of local support in Glasgow. A real pleasure to hear him.
Next up was Sarah Banjo - a recent discovery for me, and someone I really wanted to see perform. She started out, an alluring and unassuming shamble of clothes and glasses at the front of the room, before very suddenly, a high clear voice soared. There was something about her phrasing, her use of repetition and the construction of her songs which made me think of Olympia and K Records - Lois and Mecca Normal. But her use of guitar and banjo brought the music effortlessly back to it's Scottish roots in that rare pool of talent, Anstruther. She also practically refused to stop playing, which is always a good thing in my book. Part way through the set she switched from a quietly strummed guitar to a more robust and eponymous banjo. A remarkable set which lived up to all my expectations.
And so, to Esperi - perhaps the artist I knew most about on tonights bill. His recordings are careful, fragile things which threaten to dissolve like ancient wax cylinders. Live, it's quite remarkable to see how these tiny works of genius are created. He flits from instrument to instrument, setting up a loop from live sounds. The microphones are moved, and impossible toys are produced from his bag. Tiny whistling sea horses, bells and whistles. Over all of this, his quiet voice weaves gentle songs. I'm glad I got to see this because the performance is so much part of the sound. A remarkable talent.
So, as I trudged down Argyle Street in the inevitable rain, I reasoned that today turned out pretty well, despite my reservations. It's good to be back.
There was a strange sense of a calm before the storm today. It's October, and this usually spells trouble in some sense or other - and next week I'm heading off to Glasgow. So this weekend felt a little demob-happy and distracted, what with not thinking about work next week despite plenty of reasons to have my head somewhere near the place. A couple of weeks back I'd planned a jaunt out to the East Coast to cover the diversions via Lincoln and the Joint Great Eastern and Great Northern route. I'd not thought too much about this, and given the mess of confusing information flying around about how these would work, I'd taken a bit of a leap on a service which was booked to avoid Newark and Grantham entirely, though others had suggested that only Grand Central and Hull Trains were making the trip I wanted. First though, I needed to head north on the first train of the day. There was a pleasing nip of winter in the dark morning air as I headed for the station. Time at Temple Meads for breakfast and coffee, and a rather longer wait than usual to catch the 07:30 which would take me all the way to Sheffield. As we headed north into Gloucestershire, the sun appeared and I had a wonderfully lazy, rather sleepy trip north listening to music and watching the country slide by.
At Sheffield, I had a number of options in getting to Doncaster - and plenty of time to do it. However, once I'd managed to find a cup of coffee at the variety of busy outlets on the station, I opted for the next Northern service. The clouds had closed in a bit, but it was still a decent day outside - despite evidence of earlier rain. In Doncaster, with a couple of hours to spare I decided to head into town, using my new-found knowledge to get to a shop. Plagued by crowds of fairly annoying Saturday lunch-time shoppers today, which of course I'd not met last time out. Found myself trying to decide what a native of Doncaster should be called, and plumped for the completely made up 'doncasteroids'. Back to the station to watch trains - with a fair selection of freight passing, along with some light engine manoeuvres relating to the electric services which would need to be dragged south via the diversion. Interestingly, the four locos which operate the First Great Western diagrams had moved up overnight - so I saw some familiar engines trundling about. Around now, the heavens opened and the clouds which had been threatening trouble for a while delivered a brief but heavy storm. Sheltering on the platform, I still wasn't clear at this point what would happen with the 12:54 to Kings Cross. As it turned out, it was operated by a HST, so no drag necessary for us. However, the important part was the route it took of course. Once on board, found a seat rather too near to a group of Japanese men trying to 'drink' yoghurt from a pot loudly and unsuccessfully. Headphones on to block out the noises, I settled in for the long trip south.
We passed the various yards at Doncaster before taking the short chord onto the Lincoln lines at Bessacarr Junction. The journey from here was rather flat and a little dull - but there was some novelty in covering this track on a busy express service rather than the usual local train. As we headed south, the weather improved again and we passed Gainsborough Lea Road in sunshine. Outside Lincoln, we slewed onto the goods lines and passed through the middle road of the station. There was a sizeable crowd out to see the diversions, and at West Holmes Junction the next Class 67 hauled service could be seen waiting to follow us. The train was able to stretch its legs a little here, and we continued at some speed until we began to slow for Sleaford. Now here was the whole point of the trip if I'm honest. If all went to plan, we'd avoid Sleaford station and the strange 's' shaped curves which link this line to the east-west Skegness route. The Sleaford avoider, now only available in the up direction, has been one of those bare red lines in my atlas for years. As we crept forward and the curve to the station slid out to the west of us, I realised that we were actually going to use the avoiding line. Really only the briefest section of line - but new track nonetheless. Settled back into my seat for the rest of the trip to Kings Cross feeling pretty pleased I'd taken a chance on this given how it had worked out.
Once at the 'Cross, I celebrated with a decent coffee before making a slow trip across town to Paddington for the 19:00 - and a much less eventful trip back than on my last use of this train. It had been a successful day, with mostly decent weather and plenty of opportunity to relax and regroup for the week ahead. Annoyingly, I think my nascent cold is getting worse - at possibly the worst possible time. Having said that, I'll be in Glasgow - and right now and escape seems very worthwhile indeed.
It was hard to imagine how yesterday's Route 66 could be bettered. Aside from one small sliver of track at Warrington, it had covered the whole extremely complex itinerary. Of course one big difference today, and something which had sold a few seats vacated by those who couldn't manage a two day pass, was the presence of 55022 at one end of the train. Deputising for 40145, on the mend but not yet mainline ready, the Deltic would not be on it's home turf today. Nor would it being doing what it does best - sustained periods of high speed running on mainlines. However, as the loco rumbled majestically into Crewe any doubts about it's suitability were soon forgotten. Back into Coach G with the same suspects as yesterday, and with the sun burning off a little early autumnal mist, we headed off via the Manchester line as far as Sandbach.
Here we took the Middlewich line. I've done this line before, on tours and diversions, but it was good to revisit and have the benefit of some local knowledge as we headed for Northwich. Here we took the eastern side of the triangle, and things started to go a little awry. The plan was to head into Lostock Works, connected via a short spur off the non-platformed loop at Northwich. However, we proceeded along the full length of the loop, passing the connection. A minor disagreement ensued between Network Rail and DBS and their respective controls about who the train 'belonged to' and where the limit of National Rail's jurisdiction actually lay! The argument was finally solved in our favour, but we'd taken a hefty time penalty. So, a further reversal beyond the connection, then a very quick run down the branch as far as the gates before reversing and heading west again. Using the connection at Hartford, we joined the WCML and picked up some time with quicker running. A brief slow down at Warrington however, where we managed to cover the non-platformed line as planned and missed yesterday. So far then, a 100% record on the track front. Impressive stuff indeed!
This left us with a largely uninterrupted run towards Ribble Junction where we took the steep dive down to the docks branch, descending beside Preston station. Having visited before on a previous BLS excursion I wasn't too concerned about our curtailed stop here. Time to get a quick snap of the Deltic on very unfamiliar territory and call home before settling in for the rest of the day's entertainments. We were soon heading back over Strand Road Crossing, with an impressive crowd out to see 55022. As we began to climb the gradient to Ribble Junction though, it became clear that this was too much for the Deltic. Whilst a powerful beast, it wasn't built for this kind of sustained, low speed effort - and it complained bitterly before slipping to a stand. The tell-tale whirr behind us of 66066 firing up confirmed it would need assistance and we were soon back on the mainline, reversing to head through the station via the Parcels platform. More quick running here as we sped north through Lancaster and took the curve onto the Morecambe and Heysham lines. These lines run as two parallel single lines, and we stuck to the southernmost of the pair which allows access to the Heysham branch. However, in Morecambe station we took the very rarely used non-platform loop, reversing to head onto the Heysham branch. A little outside Heysham Port, we curved onto the Power Station branch. Here again things were uncertain. Permission to enter the site had not been forthcoming and the paperwork situation on using the branch was unclear. With the security level being raised recently too, it was perhaps unsurprising to see the Civil Nuclear Constabulary out alongside the site security team as we approached the gates of the Power Station. A fair amount of spectators and photographers had also caused them a bit of a worry I suspect! As we waited to reverse, the CNC officers refused to engage with people on the train at all, and at one point returned to their worryingly unlocked car to retrieve sub-machine guns from the back seat! Not sorry to be reversing once again, this time using the platformed line at Morecambe, but travelling into the headshunt which is not used by service trains.
On leaving Morecambe there was something of a triumphant air on the train. I was quiet - at least until we'd successfully covered the north curve back onto the mainline. It's possible to do this on a service train, but only by being in the area really early or late - and I'd omitted this on my jaunt up to Lancaster a couple of years back. With this curve done, I settled back to enjoy the remainder of the day rather sociably. At Carnforth we took the line towards Hellifield, a bit of a slow trudge, but by now the sun was high in the sky and the day was surprisingly warm. Passing Blackburn, we used the very same goods lines which had been our escape route on an earlier, ill-fated tour. From here we headed towards Manchester, passing through the cityscape at Dusk which is always an interesting experience. After crawling through Piccadilly, we crossed over to the slow lines, passing Longsight via the goods loop - one last piece of rare track before the dark journey back to Crewe via Altrincham and Middlewich.
This weekend has been entertaining, and hopefully successful for the Society too. Any prospective members who are unsure will hopefully look at this trip, which despite it's complexities delivered everything planned and landed close to the planned times too. Here's to the next one in November...
Lost::MikeGTN
I've had a home on the web for more years than I care to remember, and a few kind souls persuade me it's worth persisting with keeping it updated. This current incarnation of the site is centred around the blog posts which began back in 1999 as 'the daylog' and continued through my travels and tribulations during the following years.
I don't get out and about nearly as much these days, but I do try to record significant events and trips for posterity. You may also have arrived here by following the trail to my former music blog Songs Heard On Fast Trains. That content is preserved here too.
