Se* & *rugs & Rock & Roll and Nursing

Chapter10

BILL HAD BEEN REHEARSING WITH a new band and was telling me about it over a coffee in the kitchen. He was a year younger than me – but he seemed older. I don’t mean he looked older. Just more mature, I suppose. Talking with him, my accent slipped back into Glaswegian. Well, not quite, but almost.

When I first began working in Uig Hotel, I had to learn to speak properly to the guests. A necessity to make myself understood. At school, my accent was Glaswegian – not strong though. Since leaving the city, it had diluted. When I started nursing – I found, depending on who I was talking to, my accent changed. With people who spoke broadly, I spoke the same; with folk who were a wee bit posher, my accent and the language I used changed to match theirs. A verbal chameleon, effortless. The change wasn’t jarring to the ear. f*****g hope not, anyway. For me, it was as natural as breathing.

The new band was called Low Down, and they’d been jamming for a month. Their first gig was at the Wee Red Bar in Edinburgh’s College of Art – and I was invited.

“So, whit dae ye sound like?”

“Imagine Fleetwood Mac and The Pretenders had a wean.”

“Eh... Ok.”

“Now mix in the Police, and Echo and the Bunnymen.”

“Eh... Right.”

I couldn’t imagine what the f**k they sounded like.

“Well, ah love aw them bands, so should be fuckin’ good.”

Bill was a good guy and an excellent musician. Me being a talentless fanny – I had a lot of time for him.

“Oh, and oor singer’s a lassie.”

“Sounds fuckin’ interestin,’ man. Whit does she look like?” I didn’t ask what she sounded like.

“I don’t see her like that man. I only hear her.”

“Would ye shag her?”

“Too fuckin’ right, I would. If she wisnae in my band.”

I laughed like f**k.

“Good tae see ye huv some scruples.”

“f**k you. Ya dick.”

“I love the name. Low Down. Cool fuckin’ name man.”

“Stole it fae Boz Scaggs.”

I nodded, as if I knew what or who Boz Scaggs was.

“Cannae wait tae hear ye and see yer new singer.”

(Grin. Cheesy. Mine)

⯑⯑⯑

The night of the gig – I helped with the band’s equipment. They had an old Post Office Commer van – ideal for ferrying about musical instruments, not so good for carrying folk. The Art College was a five-minute drive from our flat – the rest of the band met us there. Lisa was on night duty, so I was on my Jack. I bought a round for the band, and after they finished setting up, Bill introduced me. A four-piece: Bill on lead guitar, Gaz on bass, Tommy the drummer, and Fee, who sang and played rhythm guitar. Bill was right. She looked pretty nice. Short dark hair – kinda boyish but sexy. Her boyfriend, Alex, arrived carrying her second guitar. During the sound check, I was blown away – and I’m not just saying that because I shared a flat with Bill. Fee had a brilliant voice, and Bill man. He kept surprising me with how good a musician he was. When they went on stage, there was a healthy crowd, not packed but decent. Low Down were tight man. Fee’s voice was that of a sexy angel and the rhythm section really f*****g boogied. Their songs – catchy as f**k, but with substance. Weird lyrics, and poppy as hell. I immediately became a fan. During the break, I got more beers in and got talking to Gaz. Turns out he writes most of the lyrics. I told him his backing vocals, along with Bill and Tommy, were sublime. Music was his life, and I saw how pally he and Bill were. Total musos, but not boring. Gaz had played in loads of local bands and was looking for the right combination of musicians. He confidently stated he thought Low Down were f*****g great – I couldn’t disagree.

At the end of the night, I was totally steaming. I don’t know if I was a help or a hindrance, but I did my best to help pack up their gear and load it into the van. Fee said her goodbyes – she and Tommy went off in her boyfriend’s motor. Gaz, Bill, and I jumped in the van and headed to Warrender Park. Gaz came up, and we sat in the kitchen smoking some extraordinarily strong grass. Me, being a lightweight, had to admit I was totally wrecked after a couple of puffs and needed to crash. Gaz laughed his head off; he knew if I didn’t get to my bed, I’d probably end up on the floor.

“Calum, really nice to meet you. We’re playing Teviot Row next week, you better show up,” he said.

With two thumbs up, I staggered to my room – which was spinning like f**k. Just about managed to get out of my clothes and onto the bed – which was spinning too. Thought I was going to f*****g barf. I steadied myself – breathed in deep and felt slightly better. Smoking dope and drinking alcohol don’t always go hand in hand.