ARTIST | MacPherson and McSwegan
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The Story of MacPherson and McSwegan |
| Posted: 03/29/08 06:26:30 | Tag: default |
 It was a dreich evening in late 2005 that young crofter McSwegan stumbled through the dense thistle, urging his small flock on towards the old thatched stone cottage where he lived alone. Having penned the bedraggled sheep into a corner and chased a belligerent haggis away into the undergrowth, McSwegan finally turned to the cottage and went inside. McSwegans life as a crofter on the moors of Dornoch Firth was very hard indeed, and it was difficult for him to survive on sales of his sheeps wool alone so he supplemented it with his own hair. He stumbled inside, a break from the bitter Scottish winds (the ball didnae ), and straight away took a swig from his favourite bottle of Gemmilarchie whiskey. And then something caught his eye there, on the mossy kitchen table, lay a beautiful guitar, and a copy of Young Beginner Guitar Method Book 1. Meanwhile MacPherson, a young lad born in the shadow of Dunrobin Castle, was working his fingers to the bone at the local whiskey distillery. Although not one of the famous fifteen men of spain, MacPherson could say he knew them all and aspired to become one of the fifteen one day. But apprentice work at the distillery was hard and boring work. Often he would sneak away to the distillery walls for a crafty smoke away from the heavy barrels of glenmorientes. He would gaze across the empty moors to a small thatched cottage, the only point of light on the dark winter evenings. And then one night, floating on the cold Scottish wind, came a sound like guinness sighted in the mist the guitar of McSwegan. Now McSwegans weekend hobby involved sailing Viking ships in the North Sea, which provided many an hour of guitar practice out on deck in between sessions in the rigging. Meanwhile, MacPherson had joined the glenmorientes chorus where he sang many songs with the fifteen men of spain and other apprentices, including classics such as The Internazionale, Nessun Dorma and Bohemian Rhapsody to audiences of several pensioners at the local shopping mall. But life continued to be a hard, fruitless struggle for the pair. Soon McSwegan had little hair left and found himself selling the products of his flocks nether regions for the making of tourist purses, and occasionally dined on thistle soup. He could no longer afford his favourite Gemmilarchie and took to Buckfast. MacPherson too struggled with the endless barrel-pushing and himself slipped in the Buckie mire. It was one evening, senseless on the streets of Brora, that the pair met and the songwriting partnership began. After a while, MacPherson suggested they perform their Scottish folk songs to their only mutual friend, and ask him for advice about their idea to move to the great London where everyone is so good. And so they visited this young Scotsman by the name of Mick McChannaman, and Mrs McChannaman made lovely neeps and tatties and all washed down with a cold glass of Irn Bru. Now old grandad McChannaman was a wise man, some say one of Mumbais finest in his day, and upon hearing the music of MacPherson and McSwegan he remarked, Dont do it, Capn. And so they did. |
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