Nov 29 2009 10:21 pm, Iain Moffat
THE TARTAN CLEF AWARDS
Glasgow SECC, 27th November 2009
Imagine if you will, readers, modern music without anyone from Scotland in it: no Idlewild, Belle And Sebastian, Delgados or Arab Strap (together or apart), and, as the decade's worn on, no Biffy, no Franz, no Young Fathers, and no Frightened Rabbit either. Alright, so it wouldn't be totally rubbish, but there'd be a hefty slice of aceness missing, wouldn't you say?
So, with that in mind, The Fly thought it'd be well worth a trip up to Nordoff-Robbins' annual Tartan Clef Awards, which have managed to commemorate a veritable who's who of Celtic awesome over the years and this year come with all kinds of bonus celebratory goodness by virtue of falling just before St Andrew's Day and being classed as one of the many glorious excuses for a party that fall under the Homecoming banner (chiefly, of course, this is all about Robert Burns' 250th birthday, but, brilliantly, it's ended up as a whole country going "Music? Amazing! Booze? Tremendous! Terrific people through the ages from north of the border? Terrific, obviously!"; excitable details ahoy at Homecoming Scotland 2009 and Visit Scotland should you fancy knowing more). Essentially they're the Scottish BRITS, but, unlike their nationwide counterparts, there are no shortlists - thereby sparing any Craig David-style blushes - so if you get a mention you'll not go home empty-handed. Good attitude!
And, to be frank, it's a remarkably ranging bag on the results front, honouring luminaries as far removed as film scorer extraordinaire (not to mention unexpected Kanye West inspiration) Patrick Doyle, ace promoter Geoff Ellis (no household name, perhaps, but hugely at the heart of both T In The Park and the where-Oasis-were-discovered-and-plenty-more-besides King Tut's Wah Wah Hut) and the still-staggeringly-statuesque stalwart Fish. It's not an evening without its surprises either - Capercaillie might be something of a venerable proposition now, but they provide a fine reminder of just what a thrilling textural adventurism they bring to what could easily be overly orthodox folk concoctions, while, given that fluffy bra-era powerhouses the Nightcrawlers were rather on the specific side thematically, it's quite a revelation to realise that their lynchpin John Reid's actually carved out a fantastic Cathy Dennis-esque writing career almost on the sly - but there's a healthy smattering of finding-their-feet faces too, with a scrubbed-up and endearingly hungry-sounding The View clattering through 'Shock Horror' following their Best Live Band Award, and, to universal delight, Fence Collective founder King Creosote emerging as Singer/Songwriter Of The Year, which is the news of the night where The Fly's concerned and bodes well for many more emergent acts too (of whom lots more tomorrow when the you-won't-believe-the-lineup Final Fling happens...).
Really, though, it's the performances we're treated to, as much as the awards themselves, that take the whole ceremony into the realms of the truly extraordinary. Mott The Hoople performing 'All The Young Dudes' with the assistance of Def Leppard's Joe Elliott figures healthily among the most RAWK! things we've ever seen, for instance, and we're entirely unashamed about bellowing along when Lloyd Cole and - woo-hoo! - the Commotions, er, rattle through 'Rattlesnakes' (alright, so it's mighty familiar stuff, but that combination of literate lyricism, Roxyesque elegance and weightless jangle's as irresistible as it ever was), although that is, of course, as nothing next to the hollers that greet an all-star let's-do-the-show-right-here rendition of the Tartan Clef winner itself, 'Caledonia', a song whose pragmatic sentimentalism and anthemic potency had rendered it legendary long before it even left the charts, and which has even - and, generously, there's proof of this in the goody bag that your correspondent carelessly mislays somewhere along the way - inspired its very own whisky. This, we feel, is as it should be: after all, the unifying features of the very best Scots music are its communality and bacchanalia, and the Clefs have those in spades...
