Andy Stewart: "Donald, Where's Your Troosers?"

March 6, 1961 (1 week)

It really ought to take someone special to be able to replace themselves at number one. Though it had occurred prior to the establishment of the Hot 100, Elvis Presley was the first person in the rock 'n' roll era to pull it off when the mighty double A-side "Don't Be Cruel" / "Hound Dog" was overtaken by the nearly as great "Love Me Tender". The Beatles did one better by having three chart toppers on the bounce with "I Want to Hold Your Hand", "She Loves You" and "Can't Buy Me Love" during their dominant run in the first half of 1964. The Fab Four also became the first act to replace themselves at the top in their native Britain, with the feat not happening again until the devastating aftermath of John Lennon's murder (it has become a little more common in the twenty-first century now that hardly anyone bothers paying for music anymore; it helps, too, that spending ten or more weeks at the top is not longer a rarity so artists have plenty of time to put out follow-up usurpers).

Yet, it was Andy Stewart of all people who was the first to pull the same trick on Canada's CHUM charts. After three weeks of "A Scottish Soldier" on top, the Canadian public opted for the cheerful "humour" of novelty song "Donald, Where's Your Troosers?", perhaps as supposed light relief. Originally released in 1960, it was ignored until its follow up helped bring it back from the dead. A tartan revolution in pop had begun and this was a decade in advance of the Bay City Rollers. Elvis Presley, The Beatles, Andy Stewart: one of them is not like the others.

I grew to find "A Scottish Soldier" to be just about tolerable but the same cannot be said for "Donald, Where's Your Troosers?". Stewart's brogue takes some getting used to but if used on something worthwhile, I can accept it. On here, however, the singer in his mid-twenties who looks like Rick Astley's goofy older brother with a secret gambling addiction is suddenly transformed into a seventy-three year old Scot who can't stop moaning about everything. Well done, I suppose, for doing a convincing turn as an elderly Scots git but the sound is rubbish.

Things do not get off to a promising start and only get worse from there. Forty seconds in and I've already had enough of this crap. Coming from an era when the two-minute pop song was still the norm, its three-and-a-quarter minutes is agonizing to get through. As if sensing that even his fans were getting restless, he ventures down to London and does a shocked upper class reading of the line "Donald, where's your troosers?". Before long, he grudgingly admits that his Highlands twang isn't going to appeal to many outsiders and he begins impersonating Elvis. Oh my god, the comedy this man was capable of. Ninety seconds of Stewart hamming it up as the most Scottish person who ever lived is terrible enough but then to add on those horribly unfunny voices makes a bad thing that much worse.

One of the problems with "A Scottish Solider" is that it plays far too much into that "postcard" impression people have of Scotland. With "Donald, Where's Your Troosers" it's now more like a caricature of the country in which all the laziest stereotypes emerge. Tartan, bagpipes, even deep-fried Mars bars — which weren't even a thing back then — swirl around Oor Andy. Maybe there's something to making light of what a Scotsman wears under his kilt but this is the equivalent of a crass postcard depicting some old jock showing off his bare buttocks. Not funny and not pleasant — and not a part of the Scotland that I am fond of.

A fair number of Scots will eventually be featured in this space including the Bay City Rollers, Pilot, Sheena Easton and Simple Minds (though, surprisingly, not Donovan). None will come even close to overt Scottishness of Mr. Stewart here. In fact, the majority won't even seem especially Scottish. A trait shared by many acts in the eighties and nineties is that they tended to look to the United States for inspiration rather than down south towards hated England. While there were a few exceptions like Big Country and The Proclaimers, most seemed reticent to embrace their own culture in their music as well. Was it because of people like Andy Stewart? It's hard to say though I wouldn't blame them if that was indeed the case. Proud of your Scottish heritage? You don't need to release something this diabolical in order to prove it.

Score: 1

~~~~~

Can Con

 

Ronnie Hawkins again??? Well, yeah. Who else is there? As I have already stated, I'm done with Paul Anka until I absolutely must deal with him again and there's no one else. (Underscoring this point, when was the last time I even did a Can Con segment?) And I'll happily discuss The Hawk at any chance I can get. This time it's with a cover of the Hank Williams classic "Cold, Cold Heart". Ronnie puts a good deal more passion into his rendition than the original which is a mixed blessing. The dry wit of the Williams original is sacrificed in favour of something that is easier to listen to. He may not have topped the so-called Hillbilly Shakespeare but he certainly did one of his finest songs justice. Dammit, why couldn't Ronnie Hawkins have had a number one in his adopted homeland? And, no, I'm not including a future charity hit which we'll be getting to at some point. For now, Rompin' Ronnie is still one of Canada's national treasures for bringing southern American music up north. All hail!

Andy Stewart: "A Scottish Soldier"

February 13, 1961 (3 weeks)

Like most rock stars, Paul McCartney's concert setlist has been more or less the same for the last several years. (Look him up on the excellent Setlist wiki and see for yourself) "Here Today" is his tribute to John, "Something" is dedicated to George and he always trots out old favourites such as "I've Just Seen a Face", "Hey Jude", "Maybe I'm Amazed" and the banger "Nineteen Hundred and Eighty-Five". There have been alterations here and there whenever a new album comes out or with the addition of "Now and Then" to The Beatles' canon last year but the old standbys dominate — and that's the way it should be.

One number which doesn't always feature is his 1977 UK Christmas number one "Mull of Kintyre". While hugely successful in his homeland, it was never released as a single in the US, reduced to the status of B-side to "Girls School". Yet, it managed to do very well elsewhere. To this day it pops up typically during encores of shows in Australia, New Zealand and Canada. Something tells me the people of these Commonwealth countries appreciate "Mull of Kintyre" more than Macca's British fans. In a very disdainful review, Tom Ewing states that "Mull" "evokes nothing more than standard Highlands postcard imagery". I can't disagree but that's also why it's so endearing to many. The same goes for the appeal of Andy Stewart, a Scots performer who seemed to be far more popular in the old dominions than he ever was back in the UK — at least until his unexpected resurgence at the end of 1989.

Andy Stewart is as Scottish as a tin of shortbread decorated in tartan with photos of Loch Lomond and Ben Nevis. Not realistically Scottish but one that tracks with mental images of bagpipes. kilts, whisky and pretending to like Robbie Burns' poetry. One can even go to Scotland and still come away with the same idyllic impression of the fabled country despite the fact that much of it isn't like that. I spent a week there with my family in the autumn of 1988 and I experienced several things that clash with those "postcard" images. Bizarre food? Not really. Gruff people? More a mix of polite, rude and indifferent, just like everywhere else. Bad weather? Not for the entire time we were there. People in kilts and tam o' shanters? Almost no one. (I initially assumed that 1996's Trainspotting was set in seedy Glasgow rather than in the regal beauty of the Scottish capital until Hibernian FC posters and mention of the Edinburgh Fringe Festival set me straight. It was quite a shock)

The point is, Scotland manages to hang on to its stereotypes better than most other parts of the world. In part, this is down to citizens of the old colonies clinging to roots of a country many haven't even been to (or have left and have no desire to ever go back). Being ultra-Scottish almost necessitates being a foreigner. (Apologies for bringing up Trainspotting again, but when Ewan McGregor's Mark "Rents" Renton goes on a memorable rant about how it's "shite being Scottish", this was news to most of us around the world with Caledonian ancestry) This helps explain why Andy Stewart's "A Scottish Soldier" managed to go all the way to number one in those same countries where McCartney — along with various local bagpipe associations in what must be the most memorable gigs any of them ever played in — still performs "Mull of Kintyre". (In Britain, it had sufficient legs to spend the better part of a year moving around the Top 40 but it could only peak at a modest number nineteen)

"A Scottish Soldier" is an old song that goes back to the Crimean War, its tune "borrowed" from a nineteenth century Rossini opera. The narrative about an anonymous warrior bravely fighting only to give his life is surprisingly stirring considering all the potential for self-parody that could have tanked it. Yet, it's still not the kind of thing I ever need to hear again. Stewart sounds about as good as possible — we'll get an idea of how bad he could be very, very soon — but it's not enough for me to enjoy him. I have gotten somewhat used to it over the last several days but my enthusiasm for it is still low.

One thing worth noting about Stewart's lyrics is his brave move not to put the Scottish soldier's death in the Middle East or in the trenches of the Somme or some other ghastly place. I mean, to take your last breath amidst the beauty of the Austrian Alps can't be the worst way to go, can it? But it's not good enough since his wish is to be in those Highland hills. (I guess he wasn't a lowlander, huh?) Too bad for him that a war hasn't been fought on Scottish soil since the Jacobites. Then again, listeners in Canada, Australia and New Zealand could identify: they, too, wanted nothing more than to return to the pacific pure air of Scotland — even if, deep down, they had no desire to go back.

Score: 4