Another piece for the Clutha Project, this time reflecting on childhood memories of days out on the Clyde. For those that could not afford a full holiday or eating out in a restaurant, the answer was to pack a picnic, get cheap train tickets down to Gourock, Largs or Wemyss bay and then a ferry out on the Clyde either just to cruise for the day or maybe to visit somewhere to eat your picnic, play crazy golf, or go to the beach for a few hours. A day trip to Dunoon was often the choice in our house but its geographic location appeared to give it one of the highest rainfall instances in the UK. More often than not we would have to take refuge in a bus shelter there to eat our picnic and wait for the sun to come out again, but it never seemed to matter to us as kids. Billy Connolly famously sang in the 1970's of the decline of the Guest House industry in Dunoon as people realised they could broaden their horizons with the help of cheap foreign holidays provided by Freddie Laker.  This was just another facet of the social changes affecting the Clyde area from the 1960's onwards - gradual but inevitable. There are still places to stay in Dunoon, but it's not the high-density tourist destination that it once was. And there's still plenty of rain.......

I had intended this to be a song but in the end felt it was better as spoken word with musical accompaniment. All the instruments in this track are virtual.... in case anyone's wondering how my guitar and mandolin playing  has suddenly improved.... :)

RAIN IN DUNOON.

When we didn’t have much
The smallest things would do
Like the way we took our comfort
In those small words “I love you”
Or the carefully made sandwich
Of dates or cut-price jam
Or sometimes, if we were lucky,
Some cheese and smoky ham.

With flask of milky coffee,
And a blanket for the ground
We’d set off on our journey
And listen to the sound
Of steam making dreams
As we’d clatter down the rails
To Wemyss Bay and the ferry
That would take our spades and pails

Across the sparkling water
To the joys of far Dunoon
To ice creams, parks, and castle
And a hopeful afternoon.
Where parents left their drudge behind
And children freely played
That great trip doon the watter
Was where memories were made.

But always in the picnic bags
Our anoraks were ready
For the weather there is fickle
And the rain can fall so steady
And many’s the time the Bus Shelter
Became our restaurant
Where a warm drink and a date sandwich
Was all we’d ever want.

These days we have our easy jets
And far-off holidays
The steamers went to scrap-yards
And no crowds now pass this way
The gift shops and the cafes
With signs saying “Come back soon”
Are these days not so busy
When the rain falls in Dunoon.

© enlimila 20/10/2021

Rain In Dunoon

(Clutha Project) Rain In Dunoon

This is a short musical sketch to describe the bluebell woods of my childhood in Renfrewshire. The idea of all the kids in the street going off for hours by themselves to play in woods, out of the sight and supervision of their parents didn't seem to cause any stress in those days and we had great fun climbing trees, building dens, sword-fighting with rotten sticks etc. Early May was the best time for the bluebells, sweet-smelling and a vivid blue that bewitched the eyes. There was no problem with picking a few to give to your mum, especially if you were late home for tea and wanted to ward off a scolding. The lanes that led down to the Clyde were always lined with them too and wherever I see bluebells, I am always transported back to those remembered places.

This track was made with my first use of a new Spitfire library I treated myself to - Fink-Signatures - so everything here is virtual, including the bluebells...

(Clutha Project) Bluebells

This track was created to be part of my "Clutha Project", reflecting on memories of my childhood and connections with the River Clyde. My parents went over to the Isle of Cumbrae to visit my grandparents in Millport, many years ago and I was living in London at the time.  After they got home they rang me to say they had been privileged to see a really strong display of Aurora Borealis from Millport, which was a bit unusual as normally you need to be further north to see these. They were really impressed by what they had seen and I sensed they had shared a moment of awe and wonderment together. Sadly I have never seen these lights myself other than on film or video. So I has happy for them but also slightly jealous. This track tries to reflect the ethereal wonder of these beautiful lights and the sense of awe my parents felt from what they had seen that night. There's a video at : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=exy6xVvY5U0, if you are interested.... :)

(Clutha Project) Aurora over Millport

(Clutha Project) Aurora Over Millport

I finally finished another piece for the Clutha Project!

The Firth of Clyde has many types of sea birds and waders gracing its shores. I particularly love the antics of the Oystercatchers. These strikingly handsome birds with their beady red eyes strut and fret through the sands and rock pools as they prod and poke for their next meal. Their pace is slow, slow, quick quick, slow, as they dispute a scrap of ragworm, or chase off the smaller wading birds that get in their way. 

Ever watchful for disturbance or danger, they will instantly take off at the slightest provocation and wheel around in their groups, low over the water, before settling down again just a few yards away. 

I find them a perky and jolly sort of bird. I was watching them during a recent holiday in Berwick on Tweed, when i got the idea for this tune, which tries to capture their strutting and their sudden take-offs. Hopefully you will find it a jolly tune. Lord knows there's a current shortage of jollity in the world....

The guitar is real and played by me. The other instruments are virtual,  courtesy of Spitfire Audio Solstice Orchestra, and 8DIO Bazantar. Field recordings were taken by me at Berwick.

The Oyster Catchers (Clutha Project)

This track is part of my ongoing "Clutha Project" - music inspired by my childhood memories of the River Clyde and its surrounding countryside as well as the changes wrought over time to the communities set in this region. It is an elegy for the passing of the numerous wooden piers that once serviced the extensive and highly popular Clyde steamer routes and the various ferries that took hundreds of folk (and sometimes their cars) back and forth across the Clyde.

Boats and shipping of all sorts  have been the lifeblood of the River Clyde throughout the centuries.

The era of the Clyde steamer began in August 1812 with the very first successful commercial steamboat service in Europe, 
when Henry Bell's Comet began a passenger service on the River Clyde between Glasgow and Greenock.

By 1900 there were over three hundred Clyde steamers operating, and the industry was still in full swing by the early 1960s. Then, competition from new forms of holiday travel brought the era almost to a close, but the Paddle Steamer "Waverley" still continues to provide excursions as the last of her kind on the Clyde.

Ferry crossing points on the Clyde, such as Erskine Ferry, were made redundant by the construction of modern bridges. 

The jobs that these services once provided also became redundant, and their employees faded into obscurity as did their ships and ferries.

Most of the wooden piers that serviced this once bustling trade now lie derelict and unloved. Their memories linger on in forgotten holiday-snap albums, specialist history books tucked away in local libraries, and in the hearts of the small bands of enthusiasts who work to save what is left.

In dusty corners of Britain's antiques emporiums, lie cheap pottery pieces bearing the names of these places - trinkets brought home years ago as souvenirs of a brief holiday away from the dull routines of town-dwelling and factory-working.

There's a video to go with this soundtrack at https://youtu.be/OkBOZSx91pc if you fancy a peek back in time.

Cover image - Sunset from Craigendoran by Colin MILNE (@argyll66)

This track was composed using only 8DIO Soundpaint instruments, which was part of the challenge I set myself in making this.

End of the Pier

End Of The Pier (Clutha Project)

This composition is part of a series that I am calling "The Clutha Project". They each relate in some way the the River Clyde and my memories of it, or to the ways in which it has affected the lives of myself and others. Some of the pieces to be included were in fact written several years ago, before the idea of the project came to me. The idea is to have each piece relate the  different sections of the river from source to sea. Since this is something coagulating from various ideas over the years, I haven't tackled the project in any logical order. This particular piece is new and represents the moorland where the Clyde rises as a spring and begins to trickle down towards the industrial Lowlands of Scotland.

The wildlife recording of Curlews used in this is XC291789 from the Xeno-Canto website, recorded by David M in 2015. It is used here under terms of CC Licence.

The Moorland Spring

(Clutha Project) The Moorland Spring

Another song written for my Clutha Project. I actually recorded this over a year ago and have meant ever since to do another version with better vocals. But I guess as I haven't found any better vocals since then, I'm not likely to achieve that ambition. A recent FB "conversation" on scatological topics with the eminent @squinancywort and the mighty @hotbutteredbland has prompted me to... ahem... "release" this at last, so you can blame them for this. 

So here it is, as it was and as it will be. Now for some background info

Glasgow City Corporation used to have a couple of ships, the SS Shieldhall and later the MV Garroch Head, that were employed to take the solids (sludge)from processed sewage generated by the city down the River Clyde and out to sea where the waste would be dumped. This saved a lot of money on landfill but it eventually had to be stopped once EU regulations on prevention of water contamination etc came into force.

Now, a favourite pastime in the West of Scotland was to take a cruise down the Clyde and savour the delights of the scenery, fresh air etc. Not everyone was in a position to afford this though, so Glasgow Corporation had an arrangement that you could apply for a free trip "doon the watter" on the "Sludgie". Preferences were given to pensioners, the unemployed and others with certain hardships. Sometimes the smell wasn't that great, particularly if the water was choppy when the dumping was done, apparently, but a great many people over many years availed themselves of this unique form of pleasure cruising and usually thoroughly enjoyed themselves. The ships were jokingly referred to as "The Harpic Line", after the ubiquitous toilet cleaner of that era. 

As with many other simple pleasures, this facility has disappeared. A day down at the sewage farm or landfill site just isn't quite the same, somehow.

There was an equivalent ship moving Edinburgh's muck on the Firth of Forth, called MV Gardyloo. For those of you not aware, the phrase "Gardyloo" was shouted in olden times by householders emptying their chamberpots out of the bedroom window into the streets below, as a warning to passers-by that they should take evasive action.

PS: Anybody leaving comments about this song being full of crap, etc will be reported to the Pun-Master General ...... :-)
====================================

SLUDGIES

We all have to do it
The good old Number Two
But do you ever wonder
What happens to your poo?
It’s one of life’s necessities
A couple of times a day
You pull the chain, it’s down the drain
And it all just slides away.

Ch
Let’s hear it for the Sludgies
Shieldhall and Garroch Head
Sailing down that river
Every day your shit to spread.
You can get a free trip
A day out on the Clyde
But when the Captain calls out “Gardyloo”
Don’t be leaning o’er the side.

If you are a pensioner
Or maybe struggling with your rent
A day out on the Sludgie
Was a cheap day out well spent
You could pack a flask and sandwiches
And take your camera too
Then float off down the River Clyde
To dispose of all our poo.

The weather’s always changeable
So you need to take your Mac.
Don’t bother with a brolly
For the wind just blows it back.
You can take in all the scenery
While standing on the deck
But when that poo slides, just go inside
Or you’ll be covered in what-the-heck.

And many’s the day out folk enjoyed
Sailing the “Harpic Line”
Enjoying their tea and sandwiches
In weather foul or fine.
Sailing down the Broomielaw
And chugging out to sea
You can see the sights
Then smell the shite
And it’s homeward bound for tea.

(c) enlimila July 2018

(Clutha Project)Sludgies

This is another track composed for my "Clutha Project" and is actually two tracks in one. The first part is an instrumental and the second a song, but both were inspired by the glittering reflections one often sees on the River Clyde at night.

I was always in awe of this view and was lucky enough for a while to live in a house that looked out over the Clyde towards Greenock and Port Glasgow and would spend hours just staring out of the window late at night. I was also lucky enough to go sailing on the Clyde and our crew even won a prize. We travelled over to Gourock in a small motor launch for the prize-giving and after a heavy night of partying we came back again in the launch in the wee small hours across a river that was smooth as a pond. The water was full of bio-luminescent plankton that glowed greeny-blue when disturbed and we left a soft luminous trail behind us as we crossed. Probably one of the most magical journeys I have ever made. 

In 1997 we learned that my father was dying from a previously mis-diagnosed cancer. I would frequent the shoreline at night to vent my helpless fury by lifting the biggest rocks I could manage and fling them into the water whilst shouting obscenities at Fate and Life in general. Shortly before my father died, there had been an attempt to blow up the mighty Goliath crane across the water in Port Glasgow to make way for redevelopment. The operation failed, however, and it only partially slumped to the ground, like a huge wounded metal beast, and lay there in limbo for several weeks, waiting for the inevitable end. To me, this seemed like a metaphor for my father. He outlasted the crane, but not by much.

Once the fury had passed though, there was always the beauty of the twinkling reflections as consolation.


This track contains a field recording of Eider Ducks made by David M and published on the Xeno-Canto Website, used with his kind permission. XC343114 - Common Eider - Somateria mollissima
==============================

Reflections at Midnight

It's midnight at the riverside.
The stars are all so clear.
I'm hurling rocks at water
To hide my rage and fear.

The ripples break reflections
Of the twinkling lights ahead
But the reflections all reform again
And their beauty cools my head.

Gentle as old ladies,
The Eider ducks they call;
Cooing in the darkness
Saying "Nothing's wrong at all".

Far off on the other shoreline,
Lights move as cars go by.
The Titan Crane stands silent
And does not ask me why

I'm crying by the water
In the middle of the night,
Throwing rocks into the river
As ripples break the lights.

He's been there for a long time.
He's seen it all before
And lost count of all the hopeless rocks
Folk have thrown in from that shore.

He knows his time is passing.
They're coming for him soon.
No more we'll share the rocks here
Below the silver moon.

Still the lights they twinkle
Across the gentle Clyde
And the Eider ducks are calling
As they drift off on the tide.

(c) enlimila July 2018

(Clutha Project) Reflections at Midnight

(Clutha Project) Reflections At Midnight

This is another track written for my "Clutha Project" - songs inspired by or linked to the River Clyde. In this case it relates to fading memories of a day when I was about 20yrs old, and in a period of unemployment whilst living with my parents in a village on the north side of the Clyde. Whilst bumming around on the beach, I looked across Loch Long at Blairmore Hill, which stands at about 1000ft, looking over the Firth of Clyde and remarked that there must be a bloody good view from the top of that hill. The two mates I was with agreed and as we pondered this, we hit upon the idea of rowing across in a dinghy owned by the father of one of my mates to Blairmore, from  where we would ascend the hill. The plan was agreed and the next day we set off on a beautiful and still summer's day, armed with some sandwiches and drink and only a rudimentary idea of how steep this hill might be. It turned out to be very steep and took us a long time to scramble up and we were bitten by lots of ferocious midges as we climbed. When we got to the top, we felt like we had really achieved something and sat down to eat our picnic in triumph. It was at this point we noticed that there was in fact a far easier route on the other side of the hill that we could have walked up. We admired the view (it was excellent as we had surmised...) and took some photos. I scratched my name onto a piece of flat stone and added it to the small cairn that stood at the top of the hill. We then set off back down to the shore, using the same steep route as before, as to take the easy route down would have been defeatist. The tiny village of Blairmore at the bottom had a single shop-cum-post office and we entered it to stock up on refreshments. The post-master instantly saw we were not local (on that side of the Loch, anyway...)and asked with some suspicion what we were up to. We told him of our valiant climb and I said to him "It's a wonderful view from up there, isn't it?" (naturally assuming he would have gone up there as he lived next to it). "I wouldn't know, " he said. "I've never been up there." Have you not lived here for very long then?" says I. "Only 24 years," he said. "It's been on my to-do list, but I just never got round to it." 

"Does running this shop keep you really busy then?" I asked. "Not that busy," he admitted. "I guess I wasn't that bothered about doing it after all...."

I've never been back up that hill since then but I'm glad I did it at least the once. We spend a lot of time and resources going away on holidays to far-flung places and so often we are blind to the beauty of what is actually around us or on our own doorstep.
============================================

This track contains ambient recordings made by "juskiddink" which he has released on the FreeSound website for general use under CC Licence:
https://freesound.org/people/juskiddink/sounds/101921

The female vocalists are 8DIO's Laurie Anne Haus and SoundIron's Linda Strawberry Coloma. The scratchy male vocals are by me... :-)

The image is provided courtesy of the excellent photographer Colin Milne (@argyll66 ). Check out his work on Instagram.
==================================

Blairmore Hill

Pull on the oars
Slide over the water
Over the glitter
That pours from the Sun.

The gulls are above us
Blairmore is before us
We'll climb up that summit
Before this day's done.

When you are youthful
No river can stop you
No mountain's too high
As you reach for the sun

When you are older
You lose your momentum
As you stop to look backwards
At all you have done.

Take care to remember
That view from the summit
For once you have climbed it
You have to come down.

(c) enlimila 24/08/2018

Blairmore Hill (Clutha Project)

(Clutha Project) Blairmore Hill

Another song written for my "Clutha Project" - songs reflecting my memories of, and association with, places on the River Clyde. This one relates to a tiny peninsula known as Ardmore Point. It's a place well used by dog walkers, as the footpath down to the shore would attest from the volume of dog poo to be found on route (hence the title) and I used to go there with my parents to walk their dogs. Plenty of others also go there without dogs though, perhaps for the fresh air, the wealth of wild nature there, or just the beautiful solitude to rest their minds. I would often see lone persons down there, sitting as still as the rocks on the beach, staring out to sea with a beer tin or a bottle of something stronger by their side. You get some great sunsets from the beach there and, for some of the people going there, maybe those sunsets would be the only good thing they had to look forward to.

I asked Mark J Bennett to do a collab with me on this and he not only patiently provided all the excellent vocals but provided the artwork too, so deep thanks to him for all of that.

DOG POO ALLEY

Dog poo and plastic bags
Broken bottles and burnt out fags
Under the green forgiving trees
Plastic ropes and old beer cans
Forgotten barbeques in the sand
Last week’s newspapers blowing in the breeze

The tide comes in and the tide goes out
The waste of man is all about
Among the rocks down by the seaweed shore
The people come, the people go
But trees remain and flowers still grow
Across the marshy woodland floor

ch#
It’s a place for solo dog-walkers
It’s a place to come and think
It’s a place for seals and seagulls
It’s a place for some to drink
Alone

Moss and lichen, weathered stones
Suntan bottles like old bleached bones
Of things that died a long, long time ago
A welly boot, an old oil can
Embedded in the glistening sand
Who knows what else might lie below?

Mussel shells and sea-worn glass
Bits of wood from ships long past
Oyster Catchers rambling on the shore
Curlews call and seagulls cry
Harebells nod as the breeze blows by
So beautiful but still ignored.

Ch#

The Sugar Ship lies in the sea
Half submerged, it’s just like me
We’re both going nowhere anymore
Sitting on this driftwood log
I watch an old man and his dog
Standing silent on the windswept shore

They’re waiting for that sunset
That golden glowing flowing sunset
The one that makes the whole long day worthwhile
Walking here between the trees
I’m free come or go as I please
If I come with a frown I’ll leave here with a smile.

Ch# FIN

©enlimila 23/10/2020

(Clutha Project) Dog Poo Alley

This is my spill-over page for newer stuff. The older material is at https://soundcloud.com/enlimila.

Thanks for looking. :-)

This is my latest spill-over page for newer stuff. The older material is at @enlimila and @enlimila-plus

Thanks for looking. :-)

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