Janglecrunch! Beatcroft Social for 18 November - the Rickenbacker 12-string special!

As suggested by Mr Ali Wilson and confirmed by Mr Lindsay Hutton, this is a selection of some favourite songs featuring the Rickenbacker 360/12 electric guitar, or variants thereof (though I sneaked in some Voxes, a Baldwin and maybe a Burns and a Shergold).

Never having played a Rickenbacker, been close enough to a stage to see properly or even seen one in a shop, I did not know until right now that they're strung with the pairs of octave strings the other way round from an acoustic 12-string, of which I've owned far too many. You hit the thick strings first on the downward strum. All part of that distinctive twangle.

Oh, and if you fancy a brand new Rickenbacker 360/12, it will set you back a whopping £3980 if you pay the list price in the UK. Though I see Gear4 Music has it for £3280. Err...bargain!

You can play the whole show from here:


Or, if you can't stand my yakkin', here's the Spotify playlist:

It was 35 years ago...Rough Justice: Songs of Worship and Doubt. The lost Tom Morton cassette

1982. I was a worship leader, on occasion, kind of. A singer and guitar player. A songwriter. An evangelist. I'd been prayed over, blessed, sent forth with the laying on of hands and everything.  I spoke, or at least muttered, in tongues. I was a full-time worker for God, part of a mission team called Scotroc, which sounds now (and sounded then) like a form of cooking chocolate. For a year or so we (Anne, my wife, and Sandy, my son) had been living in a Charismatic community at Overtoun House near Dumbarton. With second son David on the way, we'd moved out, back to Glasgow, but things were moving - personally, spiritually, emotionally - towards utter meltdown.

Faith was falling apart. So was every other aspect of life. But it was happening in the context of having to play, perform, witness, preach and pray in order to live. It was a job. It was what I did. It was who I was. And I was getting to the point where I didn't believe in who I was anymore.

At this point, I'd recorded two previous 'Christian' albums, both released on vinyl, almost all sold at concerts. Now I was trying to write my way through the crisis in my life. The result was this cassette, full of songs which veer schizophrenically from the full-on worship anthems like I Am Empty to desperate, paranoid Costello-lite rants like Loose Talk Costs Lives. There are songs of guilt and depression, and increasingly stark portrayals of a God who seems to delight in inflicting suffering. Pain seems to be the only solution. Contrasted with an immersion in religion both fuzzily reassuring and apocalyptically crushing, bloody and cruel.

Amid all of this, watching my disintegration with no doubt some astonishment and discomfort (I never asked), were some amazing young musicians (and I was only 26). Jane Sidebottom, Ewen Vernal and Andy Brodie. I'm pretty sure Ewen was only 17. All were members of the Scotroc team. Both Andy and Ewen would become highly successful professional players. They have their own stories to tell, and I won't trespass on them here. It was a delight to meet Jane again last year - at an Aberdeen University ceremony. We both had children graduating.

Anyway, I was provoked into rummaging through various nooks and crannies, digging out my only copy of Rough Justice and transferring it into the digital realm, by a mention the other day on Facebook. The Lion Will Return (Narnia in open 'G') is apparently still worthy of inclusion in a sermon. I must admit I do wonder if any of the explicitly worshipful choruses ever surface in churches, or if my cheerfully backslidden state has rendered them unholy.

The tape was recorded over two  December days in 1982, almost exactly, as I say, 35 years ago. In the old Gospel Radio Fellowship two-track studio in Argyle Street, Glasgow, live. What you hear is not of the best quality. The only copy I have is a TDK D60 copy made from a cassette, which wasn't that great to start with. But listen hard and you'll hear some of the best fretless bass playing any Bishopbriggs 17-year-old has ever recorded. Some wonderful sax and piano. And, may I be forgiven, some guitar playing I had forgotten I was ever capable of.

Some of Rough Justice is hard going. Some is well, rough. Some is awful. Some is pretty good, I think.

 Anyway. Here it is.

Earthbase Unst

EARTHBASE UNST

For launching rockets into space

Unst has to be the perfect place

It isn’t very far away

Just three ferries, and several days

From the Scottish mainland, or Norway

Which is slightly nearer anyway

And the weather will make launching easy

It’s calm, and dry, and never breezy

Except maybe for the odd occasion

When the wind destroys the radar station

But really, you need have no fear

That only happens twice a year

At other times, there’s not a peep

You’ll never see a flying sheep

A tumbling caravan, or boat

Or new-built house, suddenly afloat

Don’t credit what naysayers say

It beats Cape Canaveral any day

There’s wildlife, but not really a lot

Bonxies and puffins won’t give a jot

If their peace and quiet is to be shattered

A few burnt otters? They won’t matter

And when launching  you don’t have to shoot

At airliners on the polar route

Or worry about ships at sea

It’s not as if there’s going to be

Any more drilling for oil out there

And does anybody really care

About the noise, the raucous roaring?

The silence can get rather boring

So come, oh, spacemen and women too!

Unst surely welcomes all of you!

There’s local beer, and soup and gin

And a swimming pool to frolic in

And if you ever wonder where you are

You’re only  one small step from Mars

That’s what the vikings used to say

When they decided they would stay

Like them -  relax, eat, drink and be merry

Don’t worry if you miss the ferry

Or if the launch date is delayed

Shoot for the moon some other day

Copyright Tom Morton 2017

Play guitar, loudly and crunchily: The Beatcroft Social, 11 November 2017

Back in Shetland after all the Inverness shenanigans - some great eating at the likes of the Mustard Seed and the Royal Highland, and inspirational stuff at the Rural GPs conference (which is for doctors, but I was there as light relief). Particularly enjoyed making this. More wallowing in the classics, but you know why? Because these older tracks are just better...

The Beatcroft Social: Rock'n'Roll Never Forgets. 4 November 2017

Recorded last week, and a real classic rock wallow (with the exception of the excellent Blue Rose Code of course). Currently in Inverness, but should be back home on Sunday. It's been a blast here in Dolphinsludge, Queen of the Highland Fleshpots, and I may fit in a quick trip to Glasgow tomorrow (Saturday). But the northern isles (and Dexter) are calling!