It’s May. Shetland is baking in the sun while 10,000 fiddlers fiddle and frolic.
The start of May, and not untypically, Shetland is actually warm. The sun is shining, hoverflies are hovering and the lambs, marked in lurid spray-paint for identification, and presumably so their mothers don’t lose them, are cavorting on the hill.
It’s the folk festival this weekend, an annual extravaganza of music, socialising and drinking which features many local and visiting bands, few of them seriously big names, some it must be said, better (and better equipped for the fiercely alcoholic SFF experience) than others. Not a bad word must be said against what is a triumph of volunteering by the organisers and helpers. Or will be said by me. It’s an amazing business, with concerts in community halls throughout the isles, most sold out ages ago, and the legendary festival club at the Islesburgh Centre in Lerwick, where musicians and guests cavort, not very like lambs, into the wee sma’ hours.
It used to be different though, back in the 80s when it all kicked off. Not as formal, and with all the country and island gigs followed by dances, with the musicians staying in the community holding the concert. Now, there’s almost always a desperate rush back to Lerwick, so that said cavorting can continue in the club. Where things can be a wee bit cliquey (club entry is strictly for Shetland Folk Festival Society members only). And then there are the sessions.
Maybe it’s different if you’re the kind of musician who likes to, as we rockers used to call it, jam. I’ve never been partial to what can seem like hours and hours of the same first-position fiddle tune being sawn out, more or less in tune. and I have reservations about the drinking culture that is endemic at festivals like this and in Shetland more than most. Fair to say this was not always the case! Memories of a trip to Unst with Simon Nicol and others which left paralysed with an ultrahangover during an amazing gig by Elvis Costello, no less. Back in 1988.
Mild, sober carping aside, there are some great singers, songwriters and players in the isles this weekend. We have some terrific local artists too, and I hope the Beatcroft Social gives you a flavour of some of them.
The Beatcroft Social is back on 60 North Radio, going out fresh and feisty every Friday between 7.00pm and 9.00pm. You can still listen to it on Mixcloud here:
Madelaine Roger — Cottonwood
The Hackles — Damn the Word
Bridget St John — If You’d Been There
Bob Seger — Kathmandu
Tom Petty — The Damage You’ve done
Martyn Joseph — Born Too Late
The Who — Let’s See Action
Vampire Weekend — Prepschool Gangsters
Half Man Half Biscuit — Token Covid Song
Findlay Napier and Megan Henwood — The Anarchist’s Cookbook
Kirsten Adamson — Peace in our Time
Beth Malcolm — Leavin Loch Leven
Revellers — Lower the Rope
Elvis Costello — Brilliant Mistake
Nick Lowe — What’s so funny About Peace Love and Understanding
Simon Nicol — Over the Lancashire Hills
Pearlfishers — Making Tapes for Girls
Spoothawk — Hot Love (Straight After Midnight)
Adam Guest — Solitude and Grace
Aly Bain — Margaret’s Waltz
Sheila Henderson — Walking Through Fire
Sam Speirs — Something Going On
Captain Beefheart — Too Much Time
Iain Shaw — Blitzkrieg Bop
Pete Atkin — Sessionman’s Blues
Peter Nardini — Sixty Six
David Bowie — Kooks
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I have, given the weather, been out on the my wee 350 cc Royal Enfield motorcycle, and it’s been great. Hoverflies in my teeth, sheep on the road, lambs to swereve around. However, I have found it somewhat disconcerting to run out of speed with the throttle wide open at 60 mph. Admittedly I am an overweight six-footer with a lot of wind resistance (and in Shetland there is a lot of wind) but still. I like to pootle along, but sometimes you do want to – have to – get past that tractor in a hurry.
So thoughts have been turning to faster bikes. Am I, at 68, mentally and physically equipped to do more than pootle, though? Hmm…
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I am conscious, in these terribly Green times, that I have in the last seven days, used five different internal combustion engines – in the Royal Enfield Meteor 350, a Husqvarna ride-on lawnmower, a Honda walk-behind mower, a Toyota Hi-Lux truck and my wee inflatable boat (another Honda). But as I understand the entire UK contributes 1.8 per cent of the world’s airborne carbon effluent…I still feel slightly guilty. Maybe I’ll hire a sheep and get some oars. An electric bike? I’m too inherently Calvinist for that.
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As for the lambing, word is that it has been a very good year so far. Having once, briefly, kept sheep on the croft we had, I am content to let other people deal with the woolly gods, even in weather like this. Once they’re all grown, dead and in the freezer, they’re fine.
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