Another little known artist, I know, as I near singlehandedly drive down the ratings of this once mighty blog, but this is a fella you really should be aware of. Or have been aware of, as he is now deceased, having died actually a few years back, in 2012. But, even if he were only ever world famous in Dundee, his rich legacy is still available. Oh, and why this particular song? Look sideways to the picture, the slide. Well, I grew up thinking of the children's playground as the swings and slides, as, give or take a roundabout or a see-saw, that's what they were. This song celebrates, or not, the quaintly scottish presbyterian practice of chaining access to such fripperies on the Lord's day, when god fearing kids should be engaged in matters strictly avoidant of fun. Whilst I don't know whether the practice is still widespread, I would not be at all surprised if it is still mandatory in Stornoway, capital of the Western Isles, or Outer Hebrides. Until recently there were no access to Sunday newspapers on the day they were published, ferries and flights to the island being cried down by The Lord's Day Observance Society. Shops, bars and restaurants were also all closed, the loophole being "except for travellers", necessitating the great and good to have to make wee journeys of a sunday...... (For what it is worth and, apropos of nothing, this is the liberal community from whence the mother of the current POTUS came. And mine.)
Dundee is on the other side of the country, and on the mainland, in the kingdom of Fife, wedged in between Edinburgh and Aberdeen. Famous as a shipping port, the centre of the once mighty Jute industry, and more recently of the D.C. Thomson newspaper publishing empire, still sending out copy to expats and their descendants worldwide. (What do you mean, you haven't heard of Oor Wullie or the Broons?) Marra started his career, like many scots, in London, his first gig being with fellow countryman, Dougie MacLean, ahead of some minor acclaim in the band, Skeets Boliver . However, the explosion of punk , the mid 70s, was no time for this amalgam of styles, let alone the chorus of the song below, euphemistically retitled for press releases as 'streethouse' door, so back to Dundee he went.
Back home, alongside his burgeoning solo career as an acerbic singer-songwriter, often at the piano, he worked extensively in theatre projects, both acting and as musical director. His records, and there were 7 between 1980 and 2002, were well-received by the critics, which somehow always seems to equivalently equate with poor sales and, at best, a cult status. His style of writing embraced any number of styles, usually that most applicable to the song, often a pithy observation around some tale culled from the news or his personal experience. He often wrote about about artists, both musical and otherwise. Here are 2 examples, the first relating to a scarcely believable true story, about when Frida Kahlo visited Dundee. A live performance, this demonstrates his strength in a live setting, but apologies if you need subbies.
This next was sparked into fruition by the doyen of english folk singing, Martin Carthy, on the occasion of his being awarded an MBE, Member of the most Excellent Order of the British Empire, you know, the one John Lennon sent back. The intro explains.
Luckily, there are a fair few live documents of his career, both on disc and DVD. It is probably to those I would direct the novice. However, like myself, if the bait takes, soon you will want the studio sets as well.
Although he has gone, as I said, his legacy lives on. Dundee indie band, the Hazey Janes, contain his daughter, Alice, and son, Matthew. Indeed, the band backed Marra live and on an EP, 'Houseroom', his last recording, in 2012. He was already ill with the throat cancer that killed him. And, since then, Alice has gone on to produce her own tribute to her father, both on record, and as a show. Here is her version of the featured song.
Michael.
Alice.
