By Alaricmc
The Champion A List:
Anyone want an all-Mark Knopfler A-list? Thought not. So I’ll have to make do with Fare Thee Well Northumberland. It’s isn’t clear from the lyrics of this beautifully helpless yet not remotely morose song why Mark has to abandon “the north-east shore and the river valleys”. It may be that the piece is no more than a reminiscence of his leaving Newcastle for London. An interesting thing (well, to me) is that the physical move was quite specifically matched by a musical one. He’s quoted as saying that he’s spent his life “making a musical journey from the Tyne to the Delta”. He points out that he travelled south, and going south in America “was the mythical thing.” In the interview I’m quoting, he actually mentions Fare Thee Well Northumberland as one of three examples (the others given are Southbound Again and The Ragpicker’s Dream) of his trying to impose some of his own “geography” onto his music. It’s a quote which tidily explains the unique charm of his guitar playing – it comes from the connection he makes between British and American roots music.
Less than a country mile away from Mark in style, spirit and substance, you’ll find Richard Thompson. In Here Comes Geordie, Richard delivers a bleak, bitter and really quite vicious attack, entertainingly packed with black humour, against an unnamed individual. Who could that man be? Well, let’s study the clues. “Boys all say he loves his own reflection.” He sings in a Jamaican accent (“That don't sound like Tyneside to me”). He’s off “in his private plane… to save the planet once again,” Can’t buy a hat because his head’s too swollen. Well, “who lives in a house like this?” Could it be an Englishman in New Castle? “Oh. It’s not really about, or supposed to be about anyone specific”, claims Richard, with tongue firmy in cheek. O Sting, where is thy death? Well, it’s right here, Gordon. In this song.
I’m trying not to allow folk music to dominate the A-List (there’ll be more of it in the B) - though I suppose you could argue that many of the picks (like Mark and Richard) skate on the edge of the genre. The third song, though, is firmly in the centre of it. A Great Northern River by The Unthanks is almost a painting – “almost” because it’s not quite still-life. The information is added slowly and carefully, like brush strokes. The ships ready to load or unload cargo. The stacks of grain, the tarred ropes, the chains and the soaring, lazy seagulls. The pubs clustered around the harbour. And that last wonderful lick of colour – the girl and her song. Perhaps you’ll feel that you’re actually part of the picture, looking through one of the pub windows with a glass of brown in front of you, watching as twilight descends, at peace with the world, half nodding off to the sway of singing voices.
1982. Mass unemployment. Might the shipyards re-open? Well, yes. But it’ll be a bargain with the devil. Britain is at war with Argentina. Jobs for blood. Our narrator, whilst needing the work, is well aware that coins have two sides –his son will be joining the Task Force. Yes, it’s Shipbuilding, which was written by Elvis Costello (Robert Wyatt is occasionally co-credited, but Elvis clearly states that he wrote both music and lyrics “for Robert Wyatt”). It’s a song full of irony and social commentary – although it’s also a little bit measured. That may be because the left in Britain was unsure how to react to the war. But even without taking sides, this was arguably the last time a popular song about war made a mark on the British public. Whose version is better? Well, Wyatt’s delivery is stunning, but Costello has Chet Baker, and it boasts a mesmerising string arrangement by David Bedford (of Tubular Bells and Hergest Ridge fame). I’m calling it a draw. As for Elvis, his views have hardened. “I’ve been to see the monument,” he told an interviewer. “Stood and read the names of all the men… well, boys… who died. Whatever you say about the conflict of war, that crime alone will see Thatcher in hell.” The jobs in the shipyards, by the way, never did come back.
The Fosters nightclub in Sunderland was apparently a lively, but curious place. “Only ever went in once and I ended up having a bit of the craic with Benny out of Crossroads,” reports one former regular. “It did have a bit of a reputation for barneys,” another one recalls. “I think it was the older gangster style clientele.” A third chimes in, “It had the lowest roof any club I've ever been in - about 6 feet 5 inches high and painted matt black.” The Sunderland Echo tells us, Fosters was renowned for hosting “symposiums on matters of state” and could become “quite lively”. It later changed name to Heroes, purportedly because you needed to be one to go in.” So Fisticuffs In Frederick Street, the banging B side to the rather more famous Toy Dolls number Nellie The Elephant, would seem to be a trustworthy account, wouldn’t it? (Local poet - “That Fosters club is not the place to go, unless you want your head kicking in. You will hear a yelp and someone shouting for help.”)
It grieves me to inform you that there is not a single song by Roger Whittaker listed in the Marconium. But Roger is a taste difficult to acquire. I’ll give him New World In The Morning and The Last Farewell (which was my wife’s father’s favourite song). But the whistling. Oh my God, the whistling. Look - if Lauren had known Roger was coming, she’d never have said, “You just put your lips together and blow.” She’d have said, “Stop it. Everybody hates whistling.” And have you heard any of his German stuff? Because he was so popular there, he released German language songs. But he couldn’t speak German, so he sang the lyrics “phonetically”. I’m fluent in German (for my sins). And I cringe. So I’m stunned to be A-listing him, but my excuse is that (like The Last Farewell) Durham Town touches the sad spirit that everybody hides. Roger conceived the song as Newcastle Town (ignoring the fact that it’s a city). He was persuaded that Durham Town scanned better. But he kept the line, "Sitting on the banks of the river Tyne". It’s the Wear that flows through Durham.
I feel almost obligated to list Prefab Sprout – partly because of the many different nominations and partly because of that contretemps over Does This Train Stop On Merseyside? I’ve listened to more Sprout over the weekend than I have in my entire life, and my selection, mainly because of superbly delivered pathos, is ’Til The Cows Come Home. Prefab Sprout? Well, according to The Guinness Book of British Hit Singles And Albums, the band's name was a mondegreen (new word to me meaning a misheard lyric). So from the song Jackson, "We got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout" is interpreted (by Paddy McAloon) as “hotter than a prefab sprout.” Paddy denies this - "I just thought of two odd words and put them together."
I’m hoping I’ve earned enough leeway to chuck a traditional song in, and the one I choose is Byker Hill by Martin Carthy And Dave Swarbrick (actually the first nom to be posted – hi, George). Fascinating stuff here (well, again, for me – your mileage may differ). There’s a dispute. The song references (in the chorus) Byker Hill and Walker Shore. Oh… wait. But does it? Could “Walker Shore” be “Walk Ashore”, because on that shore there was a coal mine which extended miles below the sea. Or… hang on. What about Walkashaw? A colliery near Tamworth bore that name. You pays your money, and you takes your choice. And then there’s Elsie Marley. Who? Well, Elsie (or Alice) Marley kept an inn in the Durham coalfield, and was such a good ‘un (for whatever reason) that she was immortalised (twice) in song. Or three times, if you count the fact that Martin Carthy and Norma Waterson do a wonderful parody on this song called Biker Bill and Walter Shaw. These days, the area has problems. Interviewed by the Mirror, a local said all the "hooses doon the ra'" (on his street) were sinking because the mines went right beneath them.
Painted Places are new to me – a three-piece garage rock band with a sixties feel. I enjoyed Breeze On The Tees, though as previously pointed out, it’s rather more than a breeze most of the time. It’s clear from the lyrics (“It's sheltered and warm, so they'll break a sweat which'll freeze when they go out for their cigarette”) that Painted Places are well aware of this. The lyrics (which offer a comprehensive guide to Middlesbrough industry) are the key to the song’s power. We follow the wind as it calls in first on the dock workers and then the miners who provide the ore that the dock workers are loading onto ships. As with Byker Hill, we’re looking (or the wind is looking – that’s such a clever and unusual conceit) at relatively contented working people, and that lends the piece a warm radiance.
During the Industrial Revolution, improvement was the buzzword. And The Row Between The Cages (Bob Fox And Stu Luckley) is about that. Two pit cages are at war. The old cage tells the new cage that its popularity among the miners is a passing fancy – that when its paint wears off, people will stop using it – and the familiarity of the old cage will bring the passengers back. Pit comedy – a genre with limited entrants. It’s the Bob Fox version because I never really got into Ewan, with his dramatic, stentorious tone.
Here’s the Grace Darling story (most of which. though heavily edited here, comes from Wikipedia). Grace Horsley Darling was an English lighthouse keeper's daughter. In the early hours of 7th September 1838, while looking from an upstairs window, she spotted a shipwreck – that of the Forfarshire. The ship had foundered on the rocks and broken in half, and one of the halves had sunk during the night. Her father William determined that the weather was too rough for the lifeboat to put out from Seahouses, so they took a rowing boat across to the survivors, Grace kept the coble steady in the water, while her father helped four men and the lone surviving woman, Sarah Dawson, into the boat. Brave lass. An inspiration for The Strawbs, who use the story as a parallel for a “true love” tale. You know, Cousins has a unique voice – you can see him doing the folk thing with his finger in his ear, but you can also see him as fronting a mainstream pop group.
It would be sacrilege (according to me) to have a North East playlist without something from Lindisfarne. There are probably 20 songs that could appear here, many of them nationally famous, but I’ve chosen a less well-known piece. Sunderland Boys. There’s a rivalry (surprise, surprise) between Sunderland and Newcastle, but that’s only vaguely relevant here. I think that what you take from the song is, “We’re finding our way out of the same muddy pasture. And you’ll help me if I need it. And I’ll help you. If you need it. But we’re not shaking hands.”
Lindisfarne: drink them in.
I have to say I prefer the Dylan version of Girl Of The North Country, but Alan Price doesn’t half do a good (I have to say Dylanesque) cover job with it. The two singers have a memorable moment together in Don’t Look Back, a moment which some web sites classify as Dylan being rude, because Price is playing something on the piano and Bob keeps asking him questions. But it doesn’t feel like that at all. They’re friendly exchanges – it’s actually a rather innocent, charming scene. Girl From The North Country was written by Dylan immediately following the trip to England in December 1962 during which he met Alan. It could have been inspired by his then girlfriend, Suze Rotolo. In fact, he left England for Italy to search for her.
On the grounds of utter weirdness, let’s have Pet Shop Boys with the distinctly homoerotic The Truck Driver And His Mate. Said truck driver stops his wagon in a lay-by and dances is in the moonlight with his (male) companion. The dance is “solemn as an act of fate”. Apparently Neil recalled from his youth an advertising slogan for a chocolate bar – I’m guessing Yorkie - "Big enough for the truck-driver and his mate." To extend the implications, the Boys included a breathy, wordless "oh-oh-oh" chorus, suggestive of an orgasm. A rollicking acoustic-guitar-driven track (very unusual for the Pet Shop Boys), which may be the closest the band has come to pure, out-and-out rock? In support of that, Chris described it as "our tribute to Oasis" and said that it has "the same chord change" as Some Might Say.
Over the weekend, there were a number of exchanges about Angelic Upstarts songs. I couldn’t do The Murder Of Liddle Towers, because it was double-zedded, and I thought I owed Carpgate an Upstarts A-lister. The problem was, would I like the Upstarts? Could I include them and be true to myself? Happily, the answer was that I could. Ghost Town’s anti-Thatcher focus helps of course, but it’s the bitter conclusion that grabbed me (“Those Consett men had their pride, and their jobs of steel, Now they stand in the dole queue with their hands outstretched. Yes that's the way to kill a town.” Consett Steel Works was closed in 1980. Around 3,000 to 4,000 workers lost their jobs, resulting in an unemployment rate of 35%, twice the national average. The sky over the town, which had long been famous for its thick haze of red iron oxide dust, cleared, as did the cloud of steam typically found around the tall cooling towers and chimneys. It was little by way of compensation. “I am deeply saddened by the industrial and human distress that lies behind the BSC’s decision to close a works such as Consett”, said the Iron Monster, standing over puddles of crocodile tears. Yeah, right. When she allowed the steel works to close, it was making a profit.
It takes a lot to move me away from an Unthanks’ version of any song. A Jez Lowe, Jack Elliott or Dick Gaughan masterclass can work. And In this case (Rap Her To Bank), it’s Jack (the Birtley one, not the Ramblin’ one – should confirmation be needed, he once limped on stage with a plaster on one leg due to an ankle injury, and announced, "Not Rambling Jack Elliott - Stumbling Jack Elliott"). The Elliotts were miners at Cotia Pit near Birtley for 120 years prior to its demise in 1965. Jack and his wife Em married in 1925 and raised four children. The family sang songs all their life, at the pub, in the house, in the back lane, or in the fields playing kids' games. This particular song is a son’s lament for his father, who died in a mining accident. Rap her to bank? A.L. Lloyd explained. “Rap 'er te bank!” is the cry of men at the bottom of the mine shaft, waiting to come up in the cage. The onsetter would rap, and the winding man, hearing the signal would draw the cage to the surface - the “bank”.
I’m not forgetting Liddle Towers. In the absence of the Upstarts version, Blue Murder by The Tom Robinson Band is a fine substitute. For those who don’t know the story, Liddle was arrested outside the Key Club in Birtley in January 1976 and taken to Gateshead police station. Both the taxi driver who later ferried him to hospital and his local GP gave evidence that was consistent with Towers' own account of having been assaulted in the cells (“They gave us a bloody good kicking outside the Key Club, but that was nowt to what I got when I got inside"). Less than a month later, he died at Dryburn Hospital. The inquest returned a verdict of justifiable homicide (“the evidence was not such as to justify the institution of criminal proceedings against any officer") and the Home Secretary refused to set up an inquiry. On appeal, the verdict was changed to death by misadventure. I mentioned the North East police in my introduction. George Boyland told a much more horrifying story than mine.
Two Halves by Richard Dawson is a song about “proper football” – the sort played on muddy pitches with barely visible markings, goals without goal nets, and rules which require decapitation before a free kick can be given. It’s a humorous (rather than funny) tale, but also a depressing one, reminding me slightly of Kes and The Longshot, and strongly of There’s Only One Jimmy Grimble, in which the father of one of the boys shouts consistently from the touchline. “Give it to Gordon.” Richard says, “My own footballing days are lost in a haze – in my pomp I was a chiselling 'Gattuso'-type holding-midfielder.” Dirty player, in other words. He’s Marmite in the folk world, is Richard. His voice moves between baritone and falsetto and he favours unusual key changes and chord progressions. Some folkies find him ‘untraditional’. But I adore the man. He’s a storyteller, first and foremost – a chronicler of small, personal events. There’s a trace of Half Man Half Biscuit in him, and maybe Ivor Cutler. Anyway, someone just shouted “Man on!” so I’m going to pass the ball to Jez Lowe.
Durham Jail has been the home of some of Britain's most infamous criminals over the years, including Rose West, Myra Hindley, the Kray twins, John McVicar and Frankie Fraser. It is also the resting place of a number of men and women executed and buried in its grounds, including (i) the first - Thomas Clark, a domestic servant at Hallgarth Mill, convicted of the murder of a housemaid ("Gentlemen, I die for another man's crimes - I am innocent", (ii) William Jobling, a striking miner accused of murder during a riot – he was gibbeted pour encourager les autres, but he hadn’t done the deed – he merely ‘hadn’t intervened’, and (iii) Mary Ann Cotton, Britain's worst female serial killer, who struggled for three minutes after the drop fell. Grim stuff. Apparently I met a hangman – Albert Pierrepoint – when I was a child, but I don’t remember. The song? Yes. Sorry. Well, any song by Jez Lowe is a treasure, and he delivers this traditional tune (Back In Durham Jail, about a robber dreaming of his release and the opportunity to collect his buried ‘booty’) with jaunty gravitas.
Lanterns On The Lake? That’s a Japanese thing, ain’t it? No. It seems not. Rather, it’s the name of a five-piece indie rock band from Newcastle – a band nominated for the Mercury Prize in 2020. And with When It All Comes True, it’s easy to understand why. Dreamy, melancholic music layered with – well, I can only say hymn-like – melodies and complex instrumentation. Couldn’t really interpret the spooky lyrics so I sought enlightenment from the band’s web page, where Hazel Wilde discloses, “Sometimes when you write a song you are creating a world in the same way a film maker, or an artist would. This is a twisted coming-of-age love story where we’re let in on the thoughts of what seems like a deranged narrator with a premonition. The narrator’s been trying to warn everyone of what is to come but nobody takes the warnings seriously.”
Just Champion A-List Playlist:
Fare Thee Well Northumberland – Mark Knopfler (Maki)
Here Comes Geordie – Richard Thompson (megadom)
A Great Northern River – The Unthanks (severin)
Shipbuilding – Elvis Costello (Shoegazer)
Fisticuffs On Frederick Street – Toy Dolls (Traktor Albatrost)
Durham Town – Roger Whittaker (severin)
‘Til The Cows Come Home – Prefab Sprout (ToffeeBoy)
Byker Hill – Martin Carthy and Dave Swarbrick (George Boyland)
Breeze On The Tees – Painted Places (Maki)
Grace Darling – The Strawbs (ShivSidecar)
The Row Between The Cages – Bob Fox And Stu Luckley (TatankaYotanka)
Sunderland Boys - Lindisfarne (Loud Atlas)
Girl Of The North Country – Alan Price (Marconius7)
The Truck Driver And His Mate – Pet Shop Boys (Vikingchild)
Ghost Town – Angelic Upstarts (Carpgate)
Rap Her To Bank – Jack Elliott (ParaMhor)
Blue Murder – Tom Robinson Band (AltraEgo)
Two Halves – Richard Dawson (SongBarLandlord)
Back In Durham Jail – Jez Lowe (Suzi)
When It All Comes True – Lanterns On The Lake (Tempusfugit)
The Belta B-List:
As The Leaving Of Liverpool is to Merseyside, thus is The Blaydon Races to Tyneside. And who better to sing it than Owen Brannigan. Blaydon is a small town in Gateshead, situated about 4 miles from Newcastle. The races used to take place on the Stella Haugh, but they stopped in 1916 (although there is a modern version, a six-mile foot race). "Scotswood Road" is a long road parallel to the left bank of the river Tyne. "Airmstrang's factory" was a large engineering works at Elswick, which made large guns and other firearms, and the "Robin Adair" was a pub on Scotswood Road, now demolished. Paradise was a small village.
It’s that man again. Mark Knopfler’s brilliant Sailing To Philadelphia tells the tale of Charles Mason and Jeremiah Dixon, two surveyors who established the famous Mason-Dixon Line, the de facto boundary which differentiates the northern side of the eastern seaboard from the southern side. James Taylor helps out here, to the track’s definite benefit.
Next, the utterly magnificent deep voice of Dick Gaughan gives due reverence to The Fair Flower Of Northumberland, a traditional Childe ballad. A Scottish knight is imprisoned by the Earl of Northumberland, but the knight persuades the Earl's daughter to free him, promising to marry her in Scotland. As soon as they reach his home, he tells her to return to Northumberland as he already has a wife and children. She pleads with him to take her as a servant or to kill her, both of which options he refuses.
Sting got a bit of a kicking from Richard Thompson earlier on, so it’s only fair to grant him a B-lister. Shipyard is about the workers’ delight when a ship is completed and launched (“It's a patriotic scene - all that's missing is the Queen, but she said she couldn't make it of a Tuesday.”) Sung by a Jamaican. Heh!
Hartlepool, the equivalent to Paradise for Jeff Stelling, is an unassuming sort of place. But The Hartlepool Pedlar (here performed by The Young ‘Uns, a three-times BBC Radio 2 Folk Award winning trio from Teesside) does not have an unassuming narrator. “I left my home when I was young,” he tells us, “and Jews like me were murdered. The sea was cruel; to Hartlepool, like cattle, we were herded.” But the man makes his way in the world, so much so that he turns out to be the founder of a rather famous store.
I have fond memories of The Likely Lads (not so much of Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads? because the ‘friends to the end’ vibe was lost). But the theme tune (performed here by Highly Likely) was an absolute earworm.
For those who read my column on Merseyside, The Sandgate Dandling Song (new baby, hard-drinking father) may ring a bell as the source for another song. Now far be if from me to suggest that our nominator might have some connection with the band, this being a solitary nomination. So I won’t. And I don’t need to, because Bridie Jackson And The Arbour have an excellent take on the piece.
My home-made ‘Apache rule’ (I shall be very much disappointed if this term doesn’t become de rigeur in the future) ruled out… well, Apache. I actually think Stars Fell On Stockton (based, of course, on Stars Fell On Alabama) is well representative of the style of The Shadows, and a corker in its own right.
More from Rachel Unthank And The Winterset (and still more to come). Tar Barrel In Dale was written by Rachel and Becky’s dad George, and is about the New Year’s Eve fire tradition at Allendale, Northumberland. The tradition is hundreds of years old – the exact origins are unknown but may link to the gunpowder plot. Various alternative reasons include the fumigation of cottages and a warning of the approach of the Spanish Armada.
The Kane Gang were an English blues-rock trio formed in Seaham in 1982. Named for the movie Citizen Kane, the trio recorded for the record label Kitchenware, side by side with Prefab Sprout. Brother Brother was composed as their debut single. a joint venture with Paddy McAloon. One of the band’s claims to fame was recording the music for the Ooh Gary Davies... On Your Radio jingle for Radio 1, based on their track Smalltown Creed – a track that was also used as the basis for the theme tune of Byker Grove.
I’m such a liar. I said on the blog that just because a song was performed by Megson (English folk duo composed of husband and wife Stu and Debbie Hanna), it wouldn’t be automatically listed. That was not the truth. But in my defence Smoke Of Home (a North East girl leaves her town, finds herself employment as a bear in Disneyland, and is full of regret) is a cracking tune. Sidebar – Megson named themselves after Debbie's family dog, who at the time had just died. They had originally decided upon The Ghost Of Meg, but their family and friends convinced them that the name sounded like a death-metal band.
When The Boat Comes In (or "Dance To Your Daddy") is a traditional English language folk song, probably written in 1826. It was popularised as the theme tune of the 1970s BBC drama serial When The Boat Comes In (just as John Peel haunted my last playlist, James Bolam seems to inhabit this one). There are two distinct sets of lyrics. The TV version, sung by Alex Glasgow, uses the traditional lyrics. But the song was also used in a TV advertisement for Young's Seafood, with lyrics composed by The Wiggles.
Blyth Power are a British rock band formed in 1983 (named after a railway locomotive) – their music shows strong influences from punk rock and folk music. Alnwick And Tyne is difficult to interpret, but (I have to say extensive) research narrows it down to either an exploration of the divided loyalties of the Percys of Northumberland during the Wars of the Roses, or a realisation by the band of the impossibility of having two masters – that they had been pandering to both the punk and the folk scene and pleasing neither.
Kathryn Tickell should be in the A-list, with Lads Of Alnwick, but something had to give. Lads Of Alnwick is an old tune from the Borders, written or adapted for the 9-note scale of a Border bagpipe. but particularly effective on Scottish smallpipes, an instrument with which Kathryn Tickell excels. She started playing smallpipes at the age of seven, and by the age of thirteen she had won several contests. Side note – she recorded with the Penguin Cafe Orchestra when it was led by Simon Jeffes, who wrote the song Organum for her.
Vin Garbutt, sadly lost to us in 2017, was an English folk singer and songwriter, specialising in protest songs – Northern Ireland, unemployment, social issues and the like. But he also loved to write songs about home, and The Land Of Three Rivers (Tyne, Wear and Tees), a tribute to North East folks, is one such. Vin’s on-stage wit, humour and storytelling between songs delighted audiences. At the end of each concert he would wish the attendees, "All the very best,” adding, "I'm knackered now, aren't you?"
Crocodile Shoes is a Jimmy Nail single written for the television drama of the same name. The show follows the life of Jed Shepperd, a Geordie factory worker who staves off the threat of looming redundancy by writing country music in his spare time. Jimmy describes himself as an angry kid who was expelled from secondary school for setting fire to curtains and was sent to prison because of a fight after a football match. After being released he worked in a glass factory. While opening a crate of glass he stood on a six-inch spike that went through his foot, and thereafter he was called "Nail". All that aside, what a voice.
Cushy Butterfield? Well, she was a big lass and a bonnie lass, and she liked her beer. She was “like a bag full of sawdust tied roon' with a string”. Our narrator pines for her nonetheless. Heartily bellowed by the aristocratic Northumbrian Mitford sisters – Nancy, Pamela, Diana, Unity, Jessica and Deborah, along with their Farve and Muv… Ah. Oh, I see. A completely different Mitford Family – a member of which, Julia Mitford, puts me right – “Whilst the Mitford Sisters and the town of Mitford are connected to nobility, alas we think our Mitford line is not.”
There was a campaign for Fareweel Regality, another masterwork from Rachel Unthank And The Winterset. I was of course sympathetic. I suspect this may have been explained on the blog, but the regalities and liberties of Hexhamshire were areas of local jurisdiction that were passed between the Archbishops of Durham and York until they finally rested with Northumberland. If you were a villain on the run and you got over the border into Hexhamshire, then you were safe. This was because your pursuers had to get permission from whoever the regalities and liberties belonged to. Anyway, in this case our singers aren’t trying to get into Hexhamshire. They are, reluctantly, on their way out.
Rachel Unthank and the Winterset
Two Newcastle guys queuing to see Jez Lowe. “See that gadgie at the front of the geet walla queue?” says one. “This queue's got us propa radgie, marra,” replies the other. “I'm gan yem." And as a result they miss Jez’s rendition of Talk To Me Dirty In Geordie, possibly the ultimate Tyneside love song.
I tried to avoid this. Truly I did. More than 15 minutes’ worth of Norwegian extreme metal (Enslaved don’t like the term ‘black metal’). Not me. Definitely not me. Although they’re highly respected. In 2014, they were commissioned by the Norwegian government to create a musical piece in celebration of the 200th anniversary of the Norwegian constitution. But still. Not me. So I kept moving it down the list. Out of the A. Bottom of the B. But it’s so on topic, you see – about the raid on Lindisfarne. So in the end, here it is. 793 (Slaget Om Lindisfarne) by Enslaved, “Åretak hørtes, vakre langskip fosset frem …” Oh. Sorry. “Beautiful ships gushed through the sea like a wind from the north. Our ancestors reached the shore. Men from Hordaland, Rogaland and Adger gathered for battle in common. Proud men with no fear. Strokes from the sword crushed the skull of the Christians.” That would be the Christians who didn’t have any swords.
The Belta B-List Playlist:
Blaydon Races – Owen Brannigan (Tarquin Spodd)
Sailing To Philadelphia – Mark Knopfler (Uncleben)
The Fair Flower Of Northumberland – Dick Gaughan (treefrogdemon)
Shipyard – Sting (Fred Erickson)
The Hartlepool Pedlar – The Young ‘Uns (Suzi)
Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads? – Highly Likely (megadom)
The Sandgate Dandling Song – Bridie Jackson and The Arbour (Alison Dempster)
Stars Fell On Stockton – The Shadows (severin)
Tar Barrel In Dale – Rachel Unthank And The Winterset (Megadom)
Brother Brother – Kane Gang (pejepeine)
Smoke Of Home – Megson (Maki)
When The Boat Comes In – Alex Glasgow (megadom)
Alnwick And Tyne – Blyth Power (ShivSidecar)
Lads Of Alnwick – Kathryn Tickell (Tempusfugit)
The Land Of Three Rivers – Vin Garbutt (ShivSidecar)
Crocodile Shoes – Jimmy Nail (Loud Atlas)
Cushy Butterfield – The Mitford Family (Tarquin Spodd)
Fareweel Regality – Rachel Unthank And The Winterset (Suzi)
Talk To Me Dirty In Geordie – Jez Lowe (Suzi)
793 (Slaget Om Lindisfarne) - Enslaved (Traktor Albatrost)
The Guru’s Canny Wildcard List:
A few you might (or might not) care to look up:
Big River – Jimmy Nail
The Hexhamshire Lass – Fairport Convention (Swarbrick solo)
The Standing Still – Chumbawamba
Going Home – Mark Knopfler – (theme to Local Hero)
Winter Song – Lindisfarne
En Melody – Serge Gainsbourg (yes, really).
These playlists were inspired by readers' song nominations from last week's topic: Sign of the Tyne: songs from and about North East England. The next topic will launch on Thursday at 1pm UK time.
New to comment? It is quick and easy. You just need to login to Disqus once. All is explained in About/FAQs ...
Fancy a turn behind the pumps at The Song Bar? Care to choose a playlist from songs nominated and write something about it? Then feel free to contact The Song Bar here, or try the usual email address. Also please follow us social media: Song Bar Twitter, Song Bar Facebook. Song Bar YouTube, and Song Bar Instagram. Please subscribe, follow and share.
Song Bar is non-profit and is simply about sharing great music. We don’t do clickbait or advertisements. Please make any donation to help keep the Bar running: