Joining the dots.......

 

Fraser Sutherland was there. And survived to tell this tale!

Friend, supporter, roadie as well as a member of The Flowers and So You Think You are a Cowboy. 

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Thanks for the memories Fraser!

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"A few years ago, a number of us who had been young punks in Edinburgh that had formed bands, in comparing notes about our shared experiences discovered one thing that was striking – the number of us that had older brothers that had been influential in shaping our attitudes. Older brothers that had been savvy enough to see past the turgid prog-rock that dominated the record stores, that caught a glimpse of something stirring in NYC, and willed that something would happen closer to home to stir things up. Older brothers that, when the time came, screamed ‘Get out and form a band - grab this thing while you can!’. I didn’t have an older brother, so the possibilities of getting out, getting up, and doing something myself, were encouraged in me mostly through meeting Dave Carson, who I’d bump into on the bus going to gigs, or in the record store he worked at. I’d always been curious about hearing new stuff, and Dave had a record collection that joined all the dots, in an attic room at his Dad’s place, where we’d retire after the pubs shut and play records all night, all sorts, as much blues, soul and jazz as heavy dub, punk and P-funk.

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When Dave formed Boots for Dancing with Graeme High, Douglas Barrie and Stuart Wright, there was a lot of po-facedness in Scotland. A lot of new groups seemed to be embracing ideas of alienation to demonstrate their “otherness”, and there was little fun to be found in the nightlife outside mainstream culture, and certainly not much dancing. Boots hatched a plan to turn all this on its head, producing a unique sound that was familiar but original, and designed to fill the dance floor with people out to have the most fun possible. This they did in some style, developing a sound to match their attitude that was unlike anything else to be heard at the time.

 

Cheekily plundered references abounded, ideas fused together from all sorts of sources into something vibrant and exciting. Dave’s capacity to draw unlikely themes together and create something new from them with the band’s help surprised many, but not me. I’d been listening to him joining these dots for years.

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Boots were one of those bands that were at their very best when playing for an audience that knew how to enjoy itself. Small clubs where band and audience could connect were where the best gigs took place, a shared sense of adventure inspiring some great one-off moments. For a band that loved to play live so much, they could be a right handful to organise.

 

Whenever I could, I used to tag along, look after their back line, and enjoy the unique experience of the Boots for Dancing show. Manager Alan Proudfoot would spend afternoons before gigs roaming around Edinburgh in a transit van with furrowed brow like the Childcatcher, searching pubs and workplaces, hoping to be able to hook in enough band members to put on a show, some more willing (or able) than others.  

 

Trips to London were no less chaotic than local shows, with a fine line being walked between triumph and disaster, and the unexpected never far away. I remember spending most of their set supporting Talking Heads at Hammersmith lying on the floor clutching the edge of Jamo Stewart’s bass drum, trying to stop it skiteing off stage and into the audience, while Adrian Belew’s bank of effects pedals blinked knowingly beside my head. 

 

On another occasion at the ICA, frustrated by the aloof reaction of the audience, percussionist Dickie Fusco downed maracas and left the stage, returning with his fire-eating kit brought along for emergencies,  determined to breathe some new life into the show. It was as much as I could do to stop the furious stage manager pulling the plug, while trying my best to stop laughing my head off.

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The band’s line-up changed a lot over the three years or so of its short life, many of Edinburgh’s finest passing through its ranks. The contrasting guitar styles of Michael Barclay and Jo Callis added a new dimension, angular melodies complemented by a twitching rhythm, as did the swooping fretless bass of Simon Bloomfield. 

 

The band members may have changed, but the attitude remained constant, a mission to liberate the feet of its audience, spurred on by a charismatic front man with a twinkle in his eye and a warble in his throat.

 

BOOTS FOR DANCING!!"

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Writer: Fraser Sutherland.

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