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[TM] [Announcement]
?? I'm still, but I've tae sing yet! Ha, ha.
01
The Buchan Vet then. How's that go again?
Oh I come fae a wee toon in Buchan,
Far I practised for near forty year,
I'm the lad that's aye soucht when yer horse or yer nowt,
Are lookin a wee bittie queer.
So if you see a stirk in the neuk o a park,
Wi his hair up and lugs hingin doon,
Jus you get yer plooman tae jump on his bike,
And get the best vet in the toon.
Noo if yer aul horse or yer coo is in pain,
Yer duty I see is quite plain,
Jist you send for me, I'll guarantee,
Ye'll ne'er need the fairrier again.
Noo ae nicht wi ma gig and ma sheltie,
I wis daunderin hame afore dark,
I'd hid a guid dram, mebbe twa, aye by god, mebbe three!
When I saw Mains gan throu's tattie park,
So I shouted, 'Aye Mains', but he nivver took heed,
So I swore and I ca'd him a feel,
But I fun oot naixt day, I wis wastin ma win',
When a scarecraw stood up in that dreel.
Noo if yer aul horse or yer coo is in pain,
Yer duty I see is quite plain,
Jist you send for me, I'll guarantee,
Ye'll ne'er need the fairrier again.
Noo ae day I wis gaun by the kirkyard,
When I thocht that I heard a queer soun,
So I stoppit ma shelt and gaed in ower the dyke,
And hid a guid look roon and roon.
Fae a new-howkit grave come a voice that I kent,
Says, I tae masel, noo yer trappit,
Says the voice, 'Oh I'm caul but I sheelt and a yaird,
Ye'll be hetter says I eence ye're happit,
Noo if yer aul horse or yer coo is in pain,
Yer duty I see is quite plain,
Jist you send for me, I'll guarantee,
Ye'll ne'er need the fairrier again.
[Applause.]
02a
I'm a Dundee weaver and I come fae bonnie Dundee,
I'll tell you o a Glesga lad that come a-courtin me,
He took me for a walk ae nicht doon by the Kelvinhall,
It's there the dirty wee rascal stole ma thingummyjig's awa.
He took me for a picnic, it wis doon a shady
lane,
He showed me a the bonnie wee birds, fae lintie tae a wren,
He showed me a the bonnie wee birds, a lintie tae a cra,
Sine he showed me the bird that stole ma thingummyjig's awa
Noo I'll gae hame tae Glesga toon for I am young
and fair,
And I'll put on ma buckled sheen and comb ma curly hair,
And I'll put on ma stays sae ticht tae mak ma figure look
sma,
And far would ken by rosy cheeks, ma thingummyjig's jig's
awa.
Come a ye Dundee weaver quines, come on and
listen tae me,
Oh never let a Glesga lad an inch abeen yer knee,
Cause if he gets ye doon a close or up against a wa',
Cause if he dis, ye can safely say, yer thingummyjig's awa.
[Applause.]
A' the old farms of any size
at all had a miller at one time, and they were gey lads the
millers and there was many songs written aboot them, and this
is just one of them, it's called 'The Miller'.
I am a miller tae ma trade, a job fu weel ye
ken-o,
I am a miller tae ma trade, a job fu weel ye ken-o,
I am a miller tae ma trade, and mony's a bag o meal I've made.
Aye, and courted mony's a fair young maid in ahin the bags
o meal-o.
It happened ae nicht in June fan I wis in masel-o,
It happened ae nicht in June fan I wis in masel-o,
It happened ae nicht in June, a bonnie lass came slippin by
A bonnie lass came slippin by, in ahin the meal-o.
Yer welcome here my bonnie lass, ye're welcome
here for aye-o,
Yer welcome here my bonnie lass, ye're welcome here for aye-o,
Yer welcome here my bonnie lass, and whit's the news that
I maun hear,
Will you consent to be my dear, in ahin the bags o meal-o.
The larkin lassie gaed a smile and said she
couldnae tell-o,
The larkin lassie gaed a smile and said she couldnae tell-o,
The larkin lassie gaed a smile, said she, young man you'll
wait a while,
Next time yer mill's a clatterin in, ye'll hae me tae yersel-o.
I am a miller tae ma trade, a job fu weel ye
ken-o,
I am a miller tae ma trade, a job fu weel ye ken-o,
I am a miller tae ma trade, and mony's a bag of meal I've
made,
Aye and courted mony's a fair young maid in ahin the bags
o meal-o.
[Applause.]
For the Scots song, I'll try
and 'The Shearing'.
O the shearin's no for you, my bonnie lassie-o,
O the shearin's no for you, my bonnie lassie-o,
O the shearin's no for you, for yer back it winna bow,
And yer belly's growin fu, my bonnie lassie-o.
Tak the buckles fae yer sheen, my bonnie lassie-o,
Tak the buckles fae yer sheen, my bonnie lassie-o,
Tak the buckles fae yer sheen, mak a kiltie for yer loon,
For yer dancin days are daen, my bonnie lassie-o.
O the shearin's no for you, my bonnie lassie-o,
O the shearin's no for you, my bonnie lassie-o,
O the shearin's no for you, for yer back it winna boo,
And yer belly's growin fu, my bonnie lassie-o.
Tak the ribbons fae yer hair, my bonnie lassie-o,
Tak the ribbons fae yer hair, my bonnie lassie-o,
Tak the ribbons fae yer hair, and let doon yer ringlets fair,
For there's none that can compare, my bonnie lassie-o.
O the shearin's no for you, my bonnie lassie-o,
O the shearin's no for you, my bonnie lassie-o,
O the shearin's no for you, for yer back it winna boo,
And yer belly's growin fu, my bonnie lassie-o, my bonnie lassie-o.
[Applause.]
04
[Joe Aitken] I dinna think
ye really want tae record this onywey! Well, aifter a lot
o deliberation and consultation, I'm gan tae sing 'The Twa
Gadgies'.
Oh well I met twa gadgies doon the road quarrellin
like tae kill,
Gan it wis sax or siven miles tae yon toon oot ower the hill,
Well I hae my supper in my pyoke and a' my time is free,
And be it sax or seven miles tae some toon, well whit's the
odds tae me?
Noo I tramps the country up and doon and monies
an orra job I'm hired,
But I see nae sense in raxin masel, na I'll nae work when
I'm tired.
For I just need eneuch tae keep masel and my doss costs me
nae fee,
And be it sax or siven miles tae some toon, well whit's the
odds tae me?
Noo I've nivver taen tae the wimmen fowk, nae
doot they've nivver taen tae me,
So the road I maun tak is a lonely road, wi fower wa's noo
I couldnae fa tae,
And the bed I maun mak is a lonely bed, hin some dyke or below
some tree,
And be it sax or siven miles tae some toon, well whit's the
odds tae me?
Now I pity fowk o gentle birth, tied up wi parasols
an pedigrees,
Gin they could throw their shackles aff, then like me they'd
be truly free,
For I wis born in a drystane dyke, hin a drystane dyke I'll
dee,
And be it sax or siven miles tae some toon, well whit's the
odds tae me?
[Applause.]
05
[JA] Well, ye ken how the
politicians hiv aye tae declare an interest if they are discussin
somethin they've got an interest, well I have got to declare
an interest today, because I'm in love wi the adjudicator
[laughs].
[Audience] That makes two o us!
Eh, I've lost the thread now. We'll try 'The
Hairst o Rettie,' seen's how BBC are here. I'm in love wi
you too, BBC.
I hae seen the hairst o Rettie, aye and twa-three
on the throne,
I've heard for sax or siven weeks the hairster's girn an groan,
Bit wi a covie, Willie Rae, a monthie an a day,
Sends a' the jolly hairters singin blithely doon the brae.
He drives them roon and roon the field at sic
an affa rate,
Yet steers them cannie oot and in at monies a kittle gate,
And whiles them safely ower the clods and mony's a hidden
hole,
And he'll come by nae mishanter if ye leave him wi the pole.
He shaks their teeth tae gar them bite, he taps
them on the jas,
And gaen he finds them dowlie like, he'll brawly ken the cause,
A boltie here, a pinie there, a little oot o tune,
And he'll [forgets] shortly stop their wil' career and brings
the slushet doon.
He whittles aff at corners and maks crooked
bitties stracht,
He likes tae see that man and beast are equal in the draught,
And a the shavies lying stracht and neen o them agley,
And he'll coont wi ony dominie fae the Deveron tae the Spey.
Noo he's nae made up wi mony words nor kent
tae puff an lee,
But jist as kind a workin chap as ever you did see [forgets],
If you are in search o hairvest work upon a market day,
Tak my advice, be there on time and look for Willie Rae.
And noo we've got it in aboot and a' oor things
be ticht,
We'll settle roon the festive board tae hae a joyfae nicht,
Wi Scottish sangs and mutton broth tae drive oor care away,
We'll drink success tae Rettie and health tae Willie Rae.
So come a' ye bonnie Rettie lads a ringin cheer,
hurrah!
A band o better workin chaps, a gaffer never sa,
Sae eager aye tae play yer pairt and ready for the frae,
Twas you that made the boatie row, that wis steered by Willie
Rae.
[Applause.]
06
Now, eh, a recurring theme
in any country's traditional music seems to be a theme of
what we could describe as persons of no fixed abode. So therefore
I'd like to sing you 'Tramps and Hawkers'.
Oh come all ye tramps an hawker lads, ye gaitherers
o blaw,
That tramp the country roond and roon, come listen een and
a',
I'll tell tae you a rovin tale and sights that I hae seen,
Going far intae the snowy north or Sooth tae Gretna Green.
I hae seen the high Ben Nevis a towerin tae
the moon,
I've been by Crieff and Callander, and roon by bonny Doune,
I've seen the Ness's silvery tide and places ill tae ken [forgets],
Or up in tae the snowy North or Urquhart's fairy glen.
I hae aften lauched untae masel when trudging
on the road,
My bag o blaw upon my back, my face as brown's a toad,
Wi lumps o cake and tattie scones and cheese and dabs o ham,
Not gaen a thought about where I'm going and less to where
I'm from.
I've done my share o humpin wi the dockers on
the Clyde,
I've helped the Buckie trawlers haul it's herrin ower the
side,
I've helped tae build yon mighty bridge that spans the busy
Forth,
With many an Angus fairmer, I've ploo'd the bonnie earth.
I'm happy in the summer time, beneath the bright
blue sky,
Not thinkin in the mornin where at nicht I'm going tae lie,
In barn or byre or anywhere, dossin in the hay,
And if the weather treats me fair, I'm happy any day.
[Applause.]
07
Wee mental block there! [Laughs].
Well my next song is another favourite theme of songs which
is somebody attempting to make off with somebody else's woman
[laughs]. Don't look at me like that.
Why weep ye by the tide lady, why weep ye by
the tide?
I'll wed ye to my youngest son and you will be his bride,
And you shall be his bride lady, the fairest tae be seen,
But I shall oot a tear doon fa, for Jock o Hazeldene
Come [forgets, prompted]
Come let this woeful grief be done and dry your
cheeks sae pale,
Young Frank is chief of Errington and lord o Langley Dale,
His foot is first in peaceful hall, his sword in battle keen,
But I shall oot a tear doon fa, for Jock o Hazeldene.
A chain of gold ye shall not lack, nor braid
tae bind yer hair,
And metalled hand or managed hawk, or palfrey fresh or fair,
And you shall ride, our forest queen, the fairest tae be seen,
And I should oot a tear doon fa, for Jock o Hazeldene.
The kirk wis dark tae morning tide, the taper
glimmered there,
The priest and bridegroom waits the bride, the day maun night
are there,
They sought ae basin, bower and hall, the lady was nae seen,
She's ower the border and awa, wi Jock o Hazeldene.
[Applause.
08
[?? Christie] I would like
to sing a few songs which I made up myself. I like to compose
a bit as well as sing the traditional songs that we hear all
the time. This is called eh, 'The Beauty of my Homeland'.
When I started on my journey through my own
dear native land,
In the heart of bonnie Scotland, where the scenery is grand,
I hiked the glens and valleys and over hill and ben,
And I've found the pride that lives inside the hearts of Highland
men.
There's a love that keeps on living in the hearts
of men like me,
For the beauty of my homeland and the sights I long to see,
The silver sands of Morar and the shores of Loch Maree,
The lovely glens of Angus and the valley of Glenshee.
I went up through Boat of Garten where the mighty
eagles soar,
And westward to Fort William, by Moydart's rocky shore,
I stopped to view the scenery along the highland trail,
And the mountains of the Isle of Skye, the Sisters of Kintail.
There's a love that keeps on living in the hearts
of men like me,
For the beauty of my homeland and the sights I long to see,
The silver sands of Morar and shores of Loch Maree,
The lovely glens of Angus and the valley of Glenshee.
When my footsteps cease to wander and I choose
no more to roam,
I will find myself a cottage that I can call my home,
Where my love and I will settle till the closing of our days,
With views of shining beauty and the bonnie heather braes.
There's a love that keeps on living in the hearts
of men like me,
For the beauty of my homeland and the sights I long to see,
The silver sands of Morar and shores of Loch Maree,
The lovely glens of Angus and the valley of Glenshee.
[Applause.]
09
The next song I want to see
is 'The Streets of Aberdeen', and eh I hope you like it.
When I walk into a bar in bonnie Aberdeen,
Very soon they tak me for a freen,
They join me for a jar and they tell me who they are,
And their memories o the streets o Aiberdeen.
Oh the streets o Aiberdeen hold memories for
me,
Of what we were and how it used to be,
And when I'm with you all I am happy to recall,
My memories o the streets o Aiberdeen.
Jimmy wis a cairter in the streets o Aiberdeen,
He hid a Clydesdale horse called 'Highland Queen',
And he told me of the time when she was in her prime,
Trottin through the streets o Aiberdeen.
Oh the streets o Aiberdeen hold memories for
me,
Of what we were and how it used to be,
And when I'm with you all I am happy to recall,
My memories o the streets o Aiberdeen.
Geordie wis a driver o a tram in Aiberdeen,
Before the trams departed from the scene,
And he told me of the times when they trundled on the lines,
That ran along the streets o Aiberdeen.
Oh the streets o Aiberdeen hold memories for
me,
Of what we were and how it used to be,
And when I'm with you all I am happy to recall,
My memories o the streets o Aiberdeen.
I sa her once again in this bar in Aberdeen,
A special girl I know as bonnie Jean,
And she used tae be a clippie on the buses in the city,
That traivelled roon the streets o Aiberdeen.
Oh the streets o Aiberdeen hold memories for
me,
Of what we were and how it used to be,
And when I'm with you all I am happy to recall,
My memories o the streets o Aiberdeen.
Now the time has come to part, and I leave you
in good heart,
I say a fond fareweel tae every freen,
When I come back for a beer, I will hope to find you here,
I'll see you in the streets o Aiberdeen.
Oh the streets o Aiberdeen hold memories for
me,
Of what we were and how it used to be,
And when I'm with you all I am happy to recall,
My memories o the streets o Aiberdeen.
[Applause.]
10
Hello. I'm going to sing
'The Bonnie Lass o Fyvie'
There once was a troop o Irish dragoons,
Come marching up through Fyvie-o,
Oor captain's fa'n love wi a very bonnie lass,
Her name it is ca'd pretty Peggy-o.
There's mony a bonnie lass in the Howe o Auchterless,
There's mony a bonnie lass in the Gairioch-o,
There's mony a bonnie Jean in yon toon o Aiberdeen,
But the floo'er o them a' bides in Fyvie-o.
Oh come doon the stair, pretty Peggy, my dear,
Oh come doon the stair, pretty Peggy-o,
Oh come down the stair, bind up yer yella hair,
Tak a last fareweel to your daddy-o.
There's mony a bonnie lass in the Howe o Auchterless,
There's mony a bonnie lass in the Gairioch-o,
There's mony a bonnie Jean in yon toon o Aiberdeen,
But the flooer o them a' bides in Fyvie-o.
It's bra o it's bra, Captain's lady to be,
It's bra tae be a Captain's lady-o,
It's bra tae rant and roar and to follow at his word,
And do march when your captain, he is ready-o.
It wis the early mornin', we marched awa',
And o but oor captain was sorry-o,
The drums they did beat oh the bonny braes o Gight,
And the bands played the lowlands o Fyvie-o.
There's mony a bonnie lass in the Howe o Auchterless,
There's mony a bonnie lass in the Gairioch-o,
There's mony a bonnie Jean in yon toon o Aiberdeen,
But the flooer o them a' bides in Fyvie-o.
Lang were we wan tae aul Oldmeldrum toon,
Oor Captain we hid tae carry-o,
Lang ere we got hame tae auld Aiberdeen,
The Captain we hid tae bury-o.
There's mony a bonnie lass in the Howe o Auchterless,
There's mony a bonnie lass in the Gairioch-o,
There's mony a bonnie Jean in yon toon o Aiberdeen,
But the flooer o them a' bides in Fyvie-o.
It wis the early mornin', we marched awa',
And O but oor captain was sorry-o,
The drums they did beat oh the bonny braes o Gight,
And the bands played the lowlands o Fyvie-o.
There's mony a bonnie lass in the Howe o Auchterless,
There's mony a bonnie lass in the Gairioch-o,
There's mony a bonnie Jean in yon toon o Aiberdeen,
But the flooer o them a' bides in Fyvie-o.
[Applause.]
11
Eh, I'll sing 'The Four Maries'.
If I can get ma breath like, hae a wee drink.
Yestreen the queen had four Maries,
The nicht she'll hae but three,
There wis Mary Seaton and Mary Beaton,
And Mary Carmichael and me.
Oh often hae I dressed my queen,
And put gowd on her hair,
But noo I've gotten for my reward,
The gallows to be my share.
Yestreen the queen had four Maries,
The nicht she'll hae but three,
There wis Mary Seaton and Mary Beaton,
And Mary Carmichael and me.
O little did my mither ken,
The day she cradled me,
The lands I was tae travel in,
Or the death I wis tae dae.
Yestreen the queen had four Maries,
The nicht she'll hae but three,
There wis Mary Seaton and Mary Beaton,
And Mary Carmichael and me.
Oh [forgets]
Oh happy, happy is the maid,
That's born o beauty free,
It wis my dimple and rosy cheeks,
That's been the doon o me.
Yestreen the queen had four Maries,
The nicht she'll hae but three,
There wis Mary Seaton and Mary Beaton,
And Mary Carmichael and me.
[Applause.]
12
Oh as I gaed hame tae Airdae,
well the fairmer'd nae a clue,
There's nae wey he could pack a cairt or nae wey he could
ploo,
So I got a the work tae dae, that suited me jist fine,
An I bade in that little timmer bothy.
Noo the caul wins they bla aneth my timmer bothy
door,
The moosies they go in an oot the knotholes in the floor,
But that's nae the worst o bein here, those discomforts I
can thole,
But it's lonely at nicht in the bothy.
Noo I've sorted mony fancy bulls and put them
doon tae Perth,
I ken I am the best showman that ever walked the earth,
But when a the judgin's over an the trophies a been won,
It's back tae ma little timmer bothy.
Noo the caul wins they bla aneth my timmer bothy
door,
The moosies they jink in an oot the knotholes in the floor,
But that's nae the worst o bein here, those discomforts I
can thole,
For it's lonely at nicht in the bothy.
Noo I'm nae a married man, so I'm aye on the
loose,
Ye'll find me nearly every nicht in Walter's public hoose,
But ye canna blame a man for takin comfort far he can,
For it's lonely at nicht in the bothy.
Noo the caul wins they bla aneth my timmer bothy
door,
The moosies they jink in an oot the knotholes in the floor,
But that's nae the worst o bein here, those discomforts I
can thole,
But it's lonely at nicht in the bothy,
Aye, it's lonely at nicht in the bothy.
[Applause.]
13
...tune,
In the middle o the tune,
Aye she sighed and then she said,
Oh my bonnie Johnnie, don't leave me [forgets].
Start again? Try and start again.
On the banks o the roses, my love and I sat
doon,
Far I took oot my fiddle for tae play my love a tune,
In the middle o the tune, she sighed and then she said,
Oh my Johnny, lovely Johnny, dinna leave me.
When I wis but a young girl, my mither used
tae say,
She would raither see me dead, aye and buried beneath the
clay,
Than see me married to any runaway,
On the bonnie sweet banks o the roses.
On the banks o the roses, my love and I sat
doon,
For I took oot my fiddle for tae play my love a tune,
In the middle o the tune, she sighed and then she said,
Oh my Johnny, lovely Johnny, dinna leave me.
Now I'm no a runaway I'll have you all to know,
I can drink a pint o beer, or leave it well alone,
If yer mither disnae like me, she can keep you at home,
And your Johnny will ging roving wi anither.
On the banks o the roses, my love and I sat
doon,
For I took oot my fiddle for tae play my love a tune,
In the middle o the tune, she sighed and then she said,
Oh my Johnny, lovely Johnny, dinna leave me.
[Applause.]
14
The bothy ballads, one that
was made favourite by Willie Kemp, 'Ye canna put it on tae
Sandy'.
In me you see a funny lookin chap,
Some folk think I dinna care a rap,
Some folk think they're affa clever,
But they've more need o their mither.
Ae day a chap come up to me and said,
Man ye've a fine reid heid,
Says I, well ye hinna muckle hair yersel,
Would you like some o mine for seed?
Oh I'm nae sae green as I may seem,
De ye think I'm saft as candy,
Poke yer fun at some ither silly gang,
But ye canna pit it on tae Sandy.
I gaed tae the theatre, I niver wis afore,
Saw act one and I made for the door,
The door keeper said, hold on man Sandy,
Wait for the second act, man it's dandy.
But in the programme which I had,
This is what I read,
A year will elapse between the acts,
So I turned to him and said:
Oh I'm nae sae green as I may seem
De ye think I'm saft as candy
Me sit here for a hale blessed year!
Oh ye canna pit it on tae Sandy
Eence at the fairm I wis lookin at the ducks,
By come a toff wi a gun and knickerbucks,
Says he tae me, for one shot Sandy,
At those ducks, here's a pound that's handy.
Said aricht, as I put it in ma pooch,
The shot killed twenty-one,
Says he, ye'll be sorry I've killed say mony,
Says I, I've enjoyed the fun.
For I'm nae sae green as I may seem,
De ye think I'm saft as candy,
Tak yer aim and fire awa again,
For they dinna belang tae Sandy.
Noo like ither silly micks, I hae a wife,
We live happy and we nivver hae a strife,
Of course I ken anither fella,
Comes and courts wi my wife Bella.
But I'm nae an evil minded chap,
Though I ken the games they play,
Jist the ither nicht I caught them oot richt,
Then I had to say:
Oh I'm nae sae green as I may seem,
De ye think I'm saft as candy,
Fin ye're awa fae hame wi yer wife I dae the same,
So ye canna pit it ontae Sandy.
[Applause.]
15
A traditional song, I learned
fae a mannie down there, even though he disnae ken it. It's
called 'Drumallochie', even though it's about a place called
Sinnahard by Drumallochie. It's a song that's close to my
heart, cause I used to live doon at ?? doon by Drumallechie,
up to a few years ago. The mannie doon there by the way is
Tam Reid.
Twas on a chill November's night when fruits
and flowers are gone,
One evening as I wandered forth upon the banks o Don,
I overhead a fair maid and sweetly thus sang she,
My love he's far from Sinnahard, and fair Drumallochie.
I said, my pretty fair maid, yer walkin here
alone,
Lamentin for some absent one upon the banks o Don,
Come tell the reason o yer grief, come tell it a tae me,
And why ye sigh for Sinnahard and fair Drumallochie.
Oh Peter was my true love's name, he lived on
the banks o Don,
He was as nice as a young man that ere the sun shone on,
But the cruel wars o Scotland, they hae taken him fae me,
And now he's far fae Sinnahard and fair Drumallochie.
I said, my pretty fair maid, ye'll gie tae me
yer hand,
For on the bonnie banks o Spey I hae baith hoose and land,
And I will share it a wi you, if you will be my bride,
And you'll forsake the bonnie lad that lived upon Donside.
She said, kind sir, your offer's good, but it
I maun deny,
[End of recording.]
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