Tenacious D

The current pipes|drums Poll asks about which note is most difficult to tune. (By the way, the poll system we use is limited to six choices, hence omitting specifically low-A, B, C and high-A, which I think are not that hard for most bands to get right.)

So far D leads the race, with F coming from behind (oo-er!). My choice is D, evidenced by the fact that it is by far the note that is most likely to blare when listening to a band. My second choice would be F, and actually bad F’s are harder on the ears than bad D’s.

I wrote about “The Brown Note” a while back (two years already?!), suggesting that instead of judges having to write again and again “D’s not well blown,” they could just write, “Brown Note,” and bands would know exactly what was meant.

In reality, more often than not a pipe section’s D is well tuned; it’s just not well blown. It’s a note that is prone to relaxation. Pipers love to take a little break with big D’s, all that air rushing through open bottom-hand. All pipers really have to do is be sure to time their blowing so that they’re blowing steadily, not breathing/squeezing, through the longer D’s, and, voila! D’s no longer sag, and the dreaded D becomes the mellifluously positive note that it deserves to be.

Well, that’s my theory, anyway. Your brown note may vary.

Poppies

Young Liam Hoyle, a piping student of mine, will be playing tomorrow for Remembrance Day ceremonies at his church. He asked a few weeks ago what he might play this year, wanting the music for “The Flowers of the Forest,” that somber tune we Canadians hear all too frequently on the news these days when Colin Clansey or another Canadian Forces piper plays for a fallen soldier returning from Afghanistan.

This fall Liam has been working on “The Taking of Beaumont Hamel,” the magically swinging 2/4 march by my favourite of all composers, John MacLellan, DCM, of Dunoon. Like most of MacLellan’s tunes, “Beaumont Hamel” is more melodically captivating than technically challenging, and it’s a tune that stands up just as well in Grade 3 solos as it does at the Silver Star.

Beaumont-Hamel should also be able to stand up just as well at a Remembrance Day event. Along with the dozens of other terrific pieces of light music by MacLellan, G.S., Willie Lawrie and others that were inspired in part by The Great War, “The Taking of Beaumont Hamel” is a remarkably positive and uplifting composition – remarkable because more than 300,000 soldiers died during the Somme, some 30,000 on the first day, most within 30 minutes of the start of the Beaumont-Hamel action.

On Remembrance Day, we tend to want to hear a lament to pay homage to those who sacrificed themselves for their country. For us pipers and drummers, though, we should remember what all tunes inspired by World War I and other wars are about. And each time we play them, we pay our respects.

Competing concerts

The stars have come together in this general area with two major Grade 1 band concerts happening within a week and 250 miles of each other. On November 10 St. Laurence O’Toole performs its “Dawning of the Day” concert in Pittsburgh, and on November 17 the Scottish Lion-78th Fraser Highlanders mount its “Seanchaidh” show in Mississauga, Ontario.

Pittsburgh is about a five-hour drive from Toronto (as are Cleveland and Detroit), so, conceivably both of these events can reasonably draw from a total population of upwards of 20 million people.

Seanchaidh seems to have been marketed far more than SLOT’s event, and the Toronto area is a notoriously difficult place from which to attract a crowd. I have seen or heard nary a word or marketing about the SLOT concert, but my impression is that it will be heavily attended.

This will be interesting. I hope that both events will be sold out. They should be: two marquee bands in full form taking the stage for two hours at a reasonable price. Both of these concerts have been made into CDs and DVDs, so people will know what to expect. Both the SLOT and SL78FH events were well reviewed.

Stay tuned for how these events pan out, and, in the meantime, feel free to discuss here!

Absence of mallets

Two of the new rules enacted at the PPBSO’s AGM on November 3rd (the usual 60 people attended. Why does every association’s AGM always attract 60 people?) were ones that stipulate that Grade 1 and Grade 2 bands must have a minimum number of tenor drummers.

The RSPBA does not require a band – in any grade – to have any tenors to compete, and this was a first for the PPBSO. I believe the EUSPBA demands that all bands have at least one tenor drummer to meet minimum requirements, but I think that’s it for the world’s associations.

Rules such as these define what a “pipe band” is. They say, essentially, that a Grade 1 band without two tenor drummers is not in fact a pipe band. It requires a pipe-major and leading-drummer to integrate that sound into their band’s ensemble. These rules to some extent dictate how a band should sound.

Whether this is right or wrong, I just don’t know. There are pros and cons on each side. Something tells me, though, that, if I were a pipe-major, I still would like to at least have the option of not including the sound of a tenor in my mix. The rule also does not require the tenor drummer(s) actually to play. They could simply stand there with a tenor drum strapped on and more or less rub the drum, looking like they’re washing dishes with the mallets. But that would of course make a mockery in the eyes of some judges of the rules.

Or would it? Even if the rules stated that all personnel on the field have to be “playing,” what constitutes playing? Maybe a band decides to have a tenor drum play one crucial beat in a seven-minute medley. How much playing is “playing”?

I was glad that similar motions were defeated that would have required lower-grade bands to have at least one tenor drummer. To me, that would cross a line where bands either would not be able to compete or would have to have someone wear a drum without playing it. Both situations are undesirable.

But, still, if the definition of a “pipe band” demands the sound of a tenor drummer, shouldn’t it be across all grades?

Workshopped

There has been some hand-wringing in parts of Ontario over the low attendance at the annual Stratford Sessions Saturday workshop last week. I read of Ken Eller’s frustration, questioning whether Ontario pipers and drummers think they’re “too good” for it, and suggesting that players today might think they know it all and that there’s nothing left to learn.

A few older pipers agreed with Ken and the current president of the PPBSO talked of the “quite dismal” situation he thinks the organization’s branches are in.

The truth is, there’s more good teaching then ever going on in Ontario and worldwide. Just because people don’t want to attend a day-long Saturday workshop does not mean they’re apathetic know-it-alls.

While weekend workshops exclusive to a single pipe band are smart, weekend workshops open to all who want to pay are old-school. Why throw $100 at one day of instruction when you can have a $40 hour-long weekly one-on-one lesson with Roddy MacLeod, Bruce Gandy or Jori Chisholm by Skype from the comfort of your home?

Twenty years ago, rubbing shoulders with Jim McGillivray, Bill Livingstone, Bob Worrall, or any of the other greats who were at the Stratford Sessions was a rare treat. Today it’s no big deal. Not only have most pipers hung out with Bill or Jake Watson at an Ontario massed bands or the Todd Bar or the Maxville beer tent, but the Internet has changed everything. Just connect with Ken Eller through his website or, heck, become his Facebook friend.

I see more piping and drumming events and interest in Ontario than ever before. Sure, more can always be done, but there are probably more competitions in the province than since 1980. More good teaching is happening and, take it from one of the many who were judging for nearly 11 hours straight on the Friday at Maxville, entries to PPBSO solo events are greater than ever. Not all of the new games are sanctioned by the PPBSO, but they go on and they are successful.

The teaching is sophisticated, and students are using technology productively. Given the results from Glasgow Green this year, Ontario’s Grade 4 band standard I would venture to say is as good as anywhere in the world. Membership in the PPBSO continues to increase in spite of the president’s apparent dour and erroneous perception of things.

I tend to think that the hand-wringing about the lack of interest in weekend workshops is more about bruised egos than a genuine concern for the art. Simply assembling an all-star cast of instructors isn’t enough to drive enrollment today. You have to create an experience, maybe with competitions and recitals as part of the package at a nice hotel, like they’re able to do in Kansas City and Seattle. Successful workshops are as much if not more about socializing and entertainment and getting energized to practice as they are about improving one’s playing.

Weekend workshops like the Stratford Sessions are a noble cause, and great credit goes to the people, like Geoff Neigh, who organize them. But the reality is that in places like Ontario and British Columbia, where piping and drumming have matured, they simply don’t have the allure they carried back in the 1970s.

On the other hand, week-long schools, where students can sink their fingers and wrists into meaningful projects and enjoy supervised learning and practice night and day for seven or even 14 straight days, are immensely productive and worthwhile no matter where they are held.

To be sure, piping and drumming workshops still do well in relatively remote piping and drumming places. People will come from miles around to say that they got tuition from Fred Morrison or Angus MacColl. But in Ontario? Sorry, the one-day workshop concept has had its day. People are doing their learning in new ways, and hobnobbing with famous folk is just a mouse-click away.

No contest

So that was the worst World Series I’ve ever seen – a totally lopsided affair with most games starting too late to see through to the end. Red Sox fans are happy, and none more than my uncle, who lives in Concord, Mass., and has rooted for his team since before Teddy Ballgame hit .406.

But, really, the Red Sox playing the Rockies was like Field Marshal versus Colorado Skye: different grades altogether. The Rockies and their fans seemed amazed that they were really in the World Series, as opposed to the Red Sox and their “nation” (which is really just New England) who were just having fun while dispatching this talented band of up-and-comers.

I started out rooting for the Rockies, but by the third game just wanted a sweep so the whole thing would be over and the underdogs could be mercifully put out of their misery. I sensed that the Colorado team and its followers just as quickly became so awe-struck by the Red Sox that they decided just to enjoy and learn from it, like any good Grade 3 band would do when spending a week with the World Champs.

Ach aye, ya ken the wee place was hoachin, ya know

We all know that the Scots have a knack for clever expressions. Their really creative vernacular is part of the pipe band world, too, with words like “trigger” and “blooter” peppering Scots pipe band lingo.

North Americans have been travelling to Scotland for decades now to live and play with top bands and soak up instruction and, for pipers, anyway, the solo circuit. I had my own experience with that in 1980s, following the likes of Scott MacAulay, Ed Neigh, John Elliott, Mike Cusack and others. While you’re living there you can’t help but pick up on Scots’ dialect, and, inevitably, your voice takes on some of the lilt and cadence of the accent. Sorry, like.

I don’t think I ever seriously tried to use everyday Scottishisms like “aye,” “I ken,” “dinnae,” or “disnae,” and would have hoped someone would give me a shake if I subconsciously did. I think you really have to have Scots as a first language, or live there for at least a decade to have the right to use that stuff. Otherwise, with a North American accent it sounds goofier than goofy.

You’d get a glower like Chuck D’s at Vanilla Ice in 1990.

But there are always one or two American or Canadian pipers and drummers who somehow try to talk that way. They must think that they’re blending in or something.

We can borrow and imitate the music that the Scots invented, but when it comes to their jargon, some things are best left unsaid.

There was a sojourn, a Scottish sojourn

Amazement and fascination were what I always felt when I talked to James and Kylie MacHattie about their annual Scottish sojourn, pitching their tent across the Highlands, scrabbling for practice locations and cooking on a wee propane stove. The closest I’ve come to that is sleeping in a car a few times after a contest, and vowing never to have to do that again.

Much like bagpipes, when it comes to camping there are people who really like it and there are those who really dislike it, with not a lot of middle ground. James and Kylie obviously really like camping, so they probably view it as part of their yearly piping vacation. But I find it fascinating to compare their experience with that of neurotic pipers who have to have things just so before they compete: the right B&B, the same breakfast, a hot shower, practice-sessions timed to the second.

I’ve known a few pipers who had the wife carry their pipe-box (in the days before padded cases with shoulder-straps), and had her do the driving to the games so that their hands wouldn’t get tired. Seriously.

Musicians in general tend to be a precious lot. Ego, superstition, anxiety and inferiority abound. We read about it in the worlds of pop, rock and rap, and it’s all over the place in piping and drumming, too. I don’t know about you, but I find the MacHatties’ simple approach to their complex art refreshing.

Radioheaded

I’ve always liked Radiohead, and I think have all of their CDs. Their latest album, In Rainbows, has created a bit of stir because people can download it and pay whatever they want, even $0.01. After about 10 days the average amount paid is around $8.50 – pretty close to the $10 that iTunes would charge and a lot more than the potential next-to-nothing that the band risked.

I really like this idea. It’s basically busking, which I have said is the world’s most honourable profession. You pay exactly what you think it’s worth, or the value of the act to you personally within your economic means. If you’re after just one song and really don’t want the rest you can pay what you think the one song is worth.

This is a group with a dedicated fan-base, and such creativity reflects their brand and re-connects with those fans. It’s a smart thing to try and the big-label music industry is watching closely, I’m sure. Our little piping and drumming music industry may want to watch, too.

A solution

My seven-year-old daughter Annabel is in grade school and several clubs. Throughout the year her class has various fund-raising projects. They sell magazine subscriptions (hmm, why isn’t pipes|drums on the list?), sponsored runs, and products that you can purchase, with a cut of the proceeds going to the school or the club. Everyone in North America will be familiar with those boxes of pricey chocolate-covered almonds or giant candy bars that organizations sell to raise money for a trip to the provincial or state competition.

It struck me that this fund-raising model could be applied to the World’s CDs (£15.26 for each volume) and DVDs (£19.74 for each volume). We’re in the thirtieth year of recordings of the top bands being sold by record companies and the RSPBA without a penny going to the artists that made them. Despite every indication that this practice runs contrary to a 2005 legal decision, it still goes on as usual. Whether bands are afraid of political punishment or judging repercussions or both is anyone’s guess, but I continue to be confounded as to why the artists allow the compensation issue to go uncontested, let alone unresolved. Fear and loathing, I suppose.

So here’s a possible solution: the RSPBA and Monarch Recordings (the company that puts out the CDs and DVDs) allow the featured bands to purchase as many copies as they want at a sub-wholesale price. Like my daughter’s clubs and school, the bands can then resell them at a higher price in any way they want, being allowed to pocket the profits.

Why not? Bands in effect can be dealers for their products, and Monarch and the RSPBA can take advantage of those wide networks of fans, friends and family to sell more of their project. Any piping and drumming supplies business or any record retailer can order as many copies of the products as they please, and then make a profit from their sale to consumers. By allowing bands to be retailers, they can then gain at least a few dollars and pounds from their massive investment in the project – which is better than the big fat nothing that they receive now.

It’s sad that the world’s best bands – the universe’s greatest exponents of the pipe band art – would have to succumb to the equivalent of door-to-door peddling of chocolate-covered almonds, but it seems to me that this might be a way to break the three-decade cycle of taking advantage of the artists that make the whole thing possible in the first place.

If you like this idea, or feel that there should be some other form of compensation to the artists that perform on the top-selling World’s products, e-mail the Executive Officer of the RSPBA, Ian Embelton, and Angus MacDonald of Monarch Recordings to let your voice be heard.

Raspberry blowing

Riding to work on a brisk autumn day here in Toronto reminded me of a summer day in Scotland in June back in the 1980s. Well, it was a summer day in Shotts, which can be like a winter day in most other places.

It was the European Pipe Band Championships. One minute it was raining, the next sleeting, then the sun would poke through, then rain, sleet, wind and so on. The band I played with then was Polkemmet and, besides the weather, I remember it well because we tuned for about 15 minutes beside the band bus, which acted as a shield from the wind and rain – then quickly played to the park hoping that the tone would hold.

Nothing terribly extraordinary there for anyone who’s spent time with a band in Scotland, but the weird thing was that, when we went into the circle in the MSR contest, four of the five pipers – including me – in the front lost our ability to grip the blow-pipe with their mouth. Our collective embouchure failed, and four-fifths of the front of the pipe section, but for intermittent snatches of phrases valiantly popping in and out, was chanterless for the rest of the set. (I also remember the Pipe-Major being incandescent when we finished, but that’s another story.)

I think we finished second. Who knows what glory would have been ours had the front rank not been directing giant flatulent sounds at the judges. Perhaps all those flapping lips resulted in a “poor opening rolls” comment from the drumming adjudicator. Later, I think my mouth – like the proverbial tongue to a sled-runner – froze solid to a can of Export, which isn’t all bad, come to think of it.

As any band that competed at the 2007 World’s will know, the physical challenges of the pipes are increased ten-fold when the weather sucks. It’s amazing just how good the overall standard was at that contest. Any other top-flight musicians would never have taken their instrument from its case, but pipers sputter on regardless.

Star-struck out

Pity the poor Yankees. All that money and talent yet again under-achieving as a whole. Heads will roll! is the well worn annual decree from the team’s idiotic meddlesome owner, George Steinbrenner, who has probably never played an inning of baseball in his puff, as they say in East Kilbride.

The Yankees’ formula for success is typically one where they attract the best talent with money. To the team’s credit, it can afford a $210 million annual player payroll, with canny marketing, television licensing rights, merchandising and perennial sell-out crowds. The team makes it to the post-season, but more often than not can’t manage to get to the World Series, let alone win it. When will they learn?

We see that misguided strategy backfire all the time, and the pipe band world is no exception. The concept of an “all-star” band is familiar to most. At any given time there are probably a dozen serious attempts around the world to consolidate the best members of various bands to create a super-group that’s sure to achieve competition glory. When it actually happens, some success will be reached but, more often than not, it crumbles in a heap after a few years.

In the late 1960s the Invergordon Distillery company set out to create a super-band, offering money to the best of Scotland’s pipers and drummers to play with a new Grade 1 band. Donald Shaw-Ramsay was the Joe Torre responsible for managing the talent and producing the prizes. Legendary figures like John D. Burgess, John MacDougall, Alex Duthart and Bert Barr joined the band, which enjoyed good competitive success for a few years. It never managed to win the World’s, which was of course the ultimate goal. The “experiment” (as it’s often referred to) eventually failed, Invergordon pulled its financial backing, and the band is nothing more than a memory.

While all that was going on the Edinburgh City Police was dominating with less famous talent that had been together for many years.

The Power of Scotland Pipe Band of the 1980s is probably comparable. This band had more gold in its ranks than Flava Flav has in his collection of grills, with the solo luminaries like Pipe-Major Angus, Willie McCallum, Roddy MacLeod, Peter Hunt and Ronnie McShannon populating the circle. It was led by the venerable Harry McNulty. The band had a lot of fun trips around the world, was dressed to the nines and always had the most luxurious coach. To be sure it was a very, very good band, but it never seemed to achieve the competition success that its personnel would indicate was possible. All those brilliant players, but no World Championship. Nice guy managing all-star players. Sounds familiar.

Similar to the Invergordon example, “The Power” was trying to compete against the Strathclyde Police, a band made up largely of non-soloists who had played and worked together for many years.

There’s a lot to be said for community and camaraderie in pipe bands. In fact, I would say that those intangible qualities are just as important as actual playing ability. There’s usually something about a band made up of players who really like and know each other that comes through in quality and success. Most importantly, bands comprising players who want to do well for the guys around them even more than they want success for themselves personally is an indicator of greatness. I have a lot of thoughts about the current and increasing trend of bringing in “travellers” – hot-shot pipers and drummers who attend a few practices and only the most important competitions and how it can impact a band overall. I’ll save those for another day.

But these days, another Yankees failure only serves as a reminder that all-stars do not a great team make.

Avocation vacations

I relented the other day and installed the “Cities I’ve Visited” application on my Facebook profile. Until I saw the results, I used to fancy myself fairly well-travelled.

The 339 little pegs that populate the places I’ve been are preponderance of North America and, of course, Scotland. There are a few scattered around “the Continent” of Europe from when I eked out a winter trip of bus rides and occasional hitchhiking in between semesters at Stirling University as a poor student in 1984, but the vast majority comprise piping-related journeys.

There’s hardly a place in Scotland that I haven’t visited. From Morpeth to Brora, I’ve been there, with bagpipes and/or golf clubs in tow. And the vast lands of Canada and the US are dotted with piping-related excursions. Mainly because of piping, I’ve probably seen more of Scotland than most Scots, more of Canada than most Canadians, and more of the US than most Americans.

But what concerns me is how much of the world I haven’t seen because of my preference for piping trips. I’d love to go to Scandinavia, to Italy, to South America, to Japan (and just about everywhere else that isn’t currently wracked with war or oppressive governments), but wonder if the lure of piping will continue to limit my travels.

I’m not alone. Just about all non-UK pipers and drummers who compete at a serious level find themselves committing their vacation time and money to getting to piping and drumming events. The back-and-forth to various annual competitions is fun, of course, and no one ever forces you to do it, but after a while, while bringing out the best in you, this avocation can get the better of you.

(George) Will of the people

Despite the efforts of The Great Pujols, my 10-time World Series Champions St. Louis Cardinals are not in the post-season. Losing nine straight down the stretch tends to do that to a team.

And, just as bad, the despised Chicago Cubs managed to win the National League Central, galvanized by a classic Lou Piniella tantrum that made even George Will blush. So, I will root against the Cubs. Anyone but them!

But wait, why do I feel that way? With my team not even in it, what’s the point of all these negative wishes? They probably will, but why should I care if the Cubs lose? They’re obviously capable of playing excellent baseball, so why not hope to see Derek Lee do his stuff? Ted Lily got short-shrift in Toronto, and I rued the day the Blue Jays didn’t sign him, so I hope his curveball is at its wickedest.

Anti-wishful-thinking is a weird thing. I’ve often been intrigued when, say, Glasgow Rangers are in some cup final and, say, Glasgow Celtic supporters cheer for whatever team is playing against them, even if it’s a team from a far-off country known more for torture than football. What’s the point? Is it borne of jealousy? What innate thinking can make people that way? It verges on religious zealotry, and we all know where that kind of thinking has put the world.

I’ve never known any solo piper to have that kind of negative mindset. (Actually, no, not true, I know one solo piper who thinks that way.) Wishing your competition to do badly even when you’ve not made the short leet or you’ve suffered a break-down is just not on in the solos. But perhaps because of the team mentality bandsmen and women occasionally wish ill-will upon their rivals.

It’s said that hate is wasted energy and debilitating to the psyche, and I agree. So, with that in mind, I wish the Chicago Cubs the best of luck this October. They’ll need it. And the bright side is that finally winning a World Series after 100 years will make them, like the Red Sox after their 20064. triumph, just another team, and reduce their fan-base from being “lovable and long-suffering” to, um, fans. So, with that, I muster all my resolve and say, Go Cubs!

Another hit: Barry Bonds

I knew and liked the song “Gold Digger,” but I never had listened to much else Kanye West stuff. The last few weeks I’d noticed rave reviews of his new CD, Graduation, so, what the hell, I figured there must be something to this guy beyond embarrassing MTV moments, Hurricane Katrina comments and Armani underwear, so I downloaded it, making me possibly the oldest and certainly the greyest buyer of his music. Oh, well.

(As an aside, I vividly remember Bill Livingstone round about 1989 raving about Bobby Brown’s “My Prerogative,” so I guess what comes around . . .)

I really like Graduation. It’s brilliantly produced and engineered, and the guy is unbelievably clever and funny (e.g., “You know how long I’ve been on ya? / Since Prince was on Apollonia / Since O.J. had Isotoners.”)

It strikes me that one of the many genres of music that pipe bands have not explored are rap and hip-hop. And, speaking of Brown, I’d bet that if any band is going to have a go at it, it will be the Peel Regional Police.

Hatfields and McCoys

So much of the piping and drumming world involves competition that I think it attracts highly competitive people. The notion of “art for art’s sake” has never really worked that well with bands and soloists who primarily want to do well in competition. Our desire to win can sometimes get the best of us, and even cause us to suspect the worst of our fellow pipers and drummers.

For decades now I have been intrigued by cross-town pipe band rivalries. I’ve been a member of bands in Canada, the United States and Scotland, and have observed the interaction between groups that share the same region. All three of those places have rivalries, but they differ in intensity from country to country.

Scotland: rival bands may seem to resent one another, but at the end of the day they’ll share a laugh and a pint together, not letting the competitive fire get the best of them. It’s usually a quietly supportive community with an atmosphere of respect. The “Boo Brigade” (thanks, RW) that haunts some of the Scottish-based online forums is really a tiny minority of muckrakers, and is really no reflection of the vast majority of UK pipers and drummers.

Canada: there is very little serious animosity between bands from the same city or region. In fact, bands tend to intermingle and completely respect each other. Yes, they go head-to-head on the field, and compete for players, but I can’t remember anything a congenial atmosphere before, during and after a contest. Like the country itself, the scene is peaceful and just a bit bland, but ultimately produces very high standard bands.

United States: some of the points above hold true, but it seems that in many cities with more than one band there exists an ugly feud. I’ve noted that in otherwise successful piping and drumming cities there are situations where cross-town bands seem to despise each other.

Learning piping in St. Louis (home of the 10-time World Series Champion Cardinals), there was always this weird (in hindsight) back-biting that went on between bands. I went to college in St. Paul, Minnesota, and there was a very similar atmosphere there. I bought into it, and was as much to blame as anyone for perpetuating it. Maybe years have softened my perspective and readers will tell me I’m deluded, but it just seems to me that all too often US cities end up under-achieving in quality because they can’t find common ground with their rivals.

So what happens? Well, often two or three pretty good bands – usually Grade 3 or Grade 4 – will co-exist in the city, rather than having one or two really good band(s). Perhaps that’s what some people prefer, but I also often see people in those cities shake their head, wishing that one day an “all-star” band could be created. Occasionally, these places seem to get everyone together and great things happen for about a year, until it crumbles and a new feud begins.

My comments here aren’t intended to do anything but raise a point, or a concern, about these situations and, as always, to try to evoke constructive dialog. About 15 years ago I wrote what I intended to be a well intentioned editorial with observations about why piping and drumming in the US might be hindered or under-achieve. Due to my failure to get my points across clearly, it was misinterpreted and I received a lot of derision and abuse, with people attacking me personally. I learned a lot from that, and understand (occasionally, anyway) when some things are better left unsaid.

But every time I hear about viciousness between cross-town bands, regardless of what country they’re from, it saddens and frustrates me, especially when there’s so much musical talent and potential that could be realized if they only got together.

Often when you observe a situation from the outside you can more easily see a solution. To me, anyway, the solution to rivalries that get the better of people is to find camaraderie from common ground, which is always the music itself. After all, it’s only piping and drumming.

Publish and perish

I got my historic copy of the BC Pipers Newsletter yesterday – a landmark issue since it’s apparently the last one. There’s a reference in the front about how they have been unsuccessful finding an editor for it, so they’ll produce a two-page thing every so often.

Nostalgically speaking, that’s sad, since this was number three-hundred-and-something, easily making it the longest-running piping print-periodical in the world. It predates James MacNeill and Thomas Pearston’s League of Young Scots’ Piping Times.

Practically speaking, I’m not surprised. For the last 10 years, just about all of the information in the Newsletter was available months before on the net, usually on this website. It wasn’t very well designed either, and the stock was super-heavy and unnecessarily expensive.

I read the other day that subscriptions to daily print newspapers and magazines continue to decline, while online publications’ popularity rises. The publishing industry keeps marching into its crater of quandary: how much content to offer online and for how much and how do you replace lost print revenues?

I’ve said before that piping and drumming organizations should not be in the business of publishing. It doesn’t make sense and, inevitably, it’s not cost-effective. If they need to print things, they should outsource it or co-op with successful, independent ventures and do it right.

The Piper & Drummer print magazine, despite constant feedback that it kept getting better year after year, saw its paid subscriptions decline to the point where it became a cash drain. Without giving over more than a third of its pages to advertising (as an example, when I last read a copy many years ago, the Piping Times gives up about 60-per-cent of its volume to ads), the P&D print magazine was assembled very economically despite its glossy stock and full-colour. I shudder to think what piping and drumming associations must pay from membership fees to produce their ambitious books.

All that said, I’ll miss the BC Pipers’ Newsletter, but will look forward to reading and receiving their ongoing news, and, I hope, to serving their membership through pipes|drums.

King of the high Gs

I read an obit recently for Luciano Pavarotti, the great opera singer. Pavarotti apparently couldn’t read music for many years, and at the time of his death had only gained a little ability to do so. “Learning from a score, is like making love by mail,” he famously said.

The oral / aural traditions of pipe-music and drum-scores are well known. Ours was comparatively late to the notation party, and there are piobaireachd purists who believe that the music began a steady decline once it was written down.

While Pavarotti’s intelligence and memory must have been incredibly high and good, his various female assistants reportedly stood in the wings with cue cards to help him with the words, but to say that he usually got the tune right would be an understatement.

“The book, the book, the bloody book, I can’t do with it at all!” Bob Nicol, a piobaireachd Pavarotti of years past, said when ceol mor started to be standardized by the Piobaireachd Society. Nicol and Bob Brown always taught through singing first. They learned that from John MacDonald. Any scores, they said, were only a guide, like cue cards in the wings.

One hears of great snare drummers who just barely read music, yet can produce and teach incredibly complex scores. The fact that they can survive and thrive in a pipe band makes it all the more uncanny.

The most apt comparison to opera singers in our idiom is of course piobaireachd, which unfortunately is only heard in competition, and then pretty much by piobaireachd players.

I wonder if there were Pavarotti-like piobaireachd-players if that art could better hope to communicate with the masses. Imagine throngs of adoring ceol mor enthusiasts chucking roses (or heather) at the artist who has captured the tune in an entirely personal way, while playing a perfect instrument that always nails the high G.

Dressed to ill

Okay, I’m sure I’ll think of something decent to write for the blog soon, but, in the meantime, Harry Tung and The Style Guy asked me to alert you to their new installments in Trailing Drones and The Style Guy.

Note, they are in the “Fun” section.

Nicked

One of my favourite groups just now is Wilco. They make jangly, thoughtful music with a unique sound and style. Not that I’m necessarily one of those people, but they’re a favourite of those who especially like “alt-country-rock” (whatever that is), and those folks are often extremely liberal and anti-commercial. Hippies.

The other day I was surprised to hear “Either Way,” a song from the band’s recently released CD, Sky Blue Sky, as background music for a Volkswagen commercial. I figured the online backlash from their zealous fans would be substantial, and I was right. Lots of hue and cry, with the band blaming online file-sharing for its decision to allow a car-manufacturer to use its music to sell the latest smog-maker. Meanwhile, the group preaches environmentalism on its site.

Volkswagen has done this often. They used “Pink Moon,” a song by the somnambulant English hippie-singer, Nick Drake, a few years ago, and in a few weeks more Drake albums had been sold than in his entire career, which ended when he offed himself in 1974 at age 26.

The Volkswagen Beetle became a symbol of the 1960s, so connecting VW with hippie-music makes branding sense. The commercialization creates consternation, but I’m sure that’s welcomed by Volkswagen, too, since it generates buzz and attracts attention.

Licensing music to corporations so that they can in turn sell product is nothing new. The Rolling Stones seemingly have been selling everything they’ve written since Bill Gates gave them millions for “Start Me Up” for the launch of Windows 95. Once the Stones started playing hackneyed stadium shows, commercialization fit their brand.

When John Entwistle died in 2002, The Who’s catalogue suddenly seemed to be all over TV shows and commercials, which was ironic since the band made an album in the 1960s called The Who Sell Out that took the piss out of commercialization.

U2 famously allowed Apple to use “Vertigo” for free to launch a new iPod. The band understood the incalculable value of the exposure and brand co-opting. It was obvious genius: you can’t be accused of selling out without actually selling something. Very crafty.

There are many who argue that pipe music should be heard by as many people as possible, so getting worked up over legalities of copyright and performers’ rights many say isn’t worth the bother.

But what would Field Marshal Montgomery – to pick a completely random well known example – say if Volkswagen took a recording of theirs and used it without permission in a commercial? Would the piping and drumming world be up in arms about the blatant rip-off, or would it welcome the positive exposure for pipe music? Hard to say.

Music continues to be a funny thing. It’s fleeting and powerful, and it can move people emotionally so that they do things like want to buy a new car or operating system. Pipe music is especially emotionally charged, and that’s why it’s used to mark occasions, like weddings, parties and funerals.

But when music meets commerce it seems that, in any domain, ethical turmoil brews.

Caption contest winner!

The Dunno Dunoon caption contest attracted a lot of very funny entries. The ones poking fun at the Cowal Games themselves about tuning facilities and toilets overflowing were almost irresistible, but, ultimately, I decided it would be just a bit too much to have a go at this event. They are trying really hard to improve.

I couldn’t decide, so I asked Julie to help, and she picked the caption submitted by Mark Sutherland of South Alloa, Scotland, as the best:

“. . . and the winner of 2018 globalwarming.com World Pipe Band Championship is Atlantis and District, band number 15 . . .”

What a great mix of social consciousness and topical news. The Atlantis bit was a great touch.

With his winning entry, Mark receives a subscription to pipes|drums for life – his, mine, or its. That could be worth as much as $700, depending on inflation and what-not.

Well done, Mark, and haw, haw, haw!

Pen-diving

The phenomenon of pen-diving is worth discussing. For those not familiar with the term, it’s this: solo piping judges who grab their pen as fast as they can when they hear a missed gracenote or fluffed doubling.

It can be downright comical with a bench of three judges, like those at the Northern Meeting, where the finest pipers in the world play for the biggest prizes in the world. Generally, a dropped taorluath will pretty much keep you from winning. Drop three or four and you might as well go home.

Everyone listening hears the blemishes, and everyone in the hall reveres those on the bench, yet the judges perhaps feel that they are being judged also, and maybe think that they have to outwardly confirm that, yes, they heard the mistake. Pen-diving at times can be almost spasmodic.

A few blogs ago I compared tenor-drumming with the artistic and athletic sophistication of synchronized-swimming. Maybe Best Synchronized Pen-Diving should be an award at these big competitions.

Seriously, competitors hate judges’ pen-diving. To a person, the say it’s distracting and unnerving. Since being on the other side of the table, I have made a point not to write anything or visibly tap my feet while a competitor is playing, trying my best to allow the piper to concentrate fully on the performance. It’s pretty easy to keep positive and negative points in one’s head until the end, and then between competitors write thoughts and account for decisions on the score sheet.

And when you think that there is no formal provision for score sheets or judges’ accountability at Scottish solo contests, it make me wonder further why they’re writing anything at all.

Pen-diving: catch this entertaining game at your next solo event.

Having more

I’ve been in Scotland this past week. It’s always hard to stay connected there, and reporting on contest results is actually easier – but far less fun – when at home than being at the actual event.

The trip actually was originally just to be a no-piping journey to see friends and family and get reacquainted with my golf clubs. Weeks after booking the flights, I realized that the Northern Meeting was that week. I guess I still assume it’s always two weeks after the Argyllshire Gathering, and I forgot that the organizers had made that change – a huge convenience at least for the non-Scots competitors who want to compete at both events.

So I took the train up to Aviemore on Thursday morning and managed to hear maybe eight of the Gold Medal performances, including Iain Speirs’s stellar “Lady Margaret MacDonald’s Salute,” which I thought might win the event. Flawless pipe, technique and interpretation from one of my favourite pipers.

It was my first time to the Aviemore venue at the Highland Resort, where the Northern Meeting has been held since 2005. The place I gather is better overall for a large piping competition than the Eden Court Theatre at Inverness, what with it being a big hotel complex with an auditorium, lots of meeting rooms and good tuning rooms, all surrounding a central hotel.

But I was really disappointed with its lack of atmosphere. Compared with Eden Court, you’d hardly know there was a piping competition going on if you weren’t involved. Eden Court has a common bar and restaurant where everyone crams into between tunes. It’s great for catching up with friends and getting the scuttlebutt on who played well and who missed the mark.

Coincidentally, it was announced in the media on the same day that the three-year multi-million-pound renovation of Eden Court was finally complete. I hope that the Northern Meeting committee decide and can afford to move the contest back there. Aviemore is just not the same.

Dunno Dunoon

The Cowal Highland Gathering has, quite rightly, employed the excellent PR agency that Piping Live! uses to bolster its image. As the current pipes|drums poll indicates, Cowal is considered the second-most-important pipe band competition next to the World’s, so it’s clearly well regarded by pipers and drummers as an event, if not for its venue, which the bands outgrew a few decades ago.

Part of the Cowal media campaign included some excellent publicity shots, designed to get the attention of mainstream newspapers and the like. As much as anyone, I can appreciate that. The shot here, though, reminded of the story about a prominent pipe-major in the 1970s recommending to his pipers that they stand in a filled bathtub to play in their new chanter reeds. The rising humidity, he thought, would break them in faster.

This picture is just begging for a witty caption, so submit yours using the Comments system. I’ll choose the best one and award the person an open-ended subscription to pipes|drums, worth, depending on your age, as much as $700!

A few contest tips

A few people wondered why the last post about golf was on a blog purportedly about piping and drumming. Good question. The blog is really about whatever I want it to be, but, sure, the vast majority of content pertains to the Highland musical arts, as you of course know.

So, I suppose there should be at least equal time given to piping and drumming competition etiquette and decorum. These points are based on years of competing in and, more recently, judging piping and pipe band contests. Perhaps they will help:

1. In a solo piping competition, if you can’t get your instrument in tune after four minutes it won’t ever be in tune. Just start. The judge will appreciate it.
2. When warming up your instrument before competing, make sure you are at least 50 yards from any competition going on.
3. Remember the name(s) of the tunes you’re submitting to the judge. If you have problems remembering names, write them down. Standing there with a brain-cramp not only rattles a competitor, it irritates the judge.
4. At least pretend you’re having a good time. Okay, you’re nervous and all that, but put on a happy face and make like you really love competing. If you’re about to throw up, you should reconsider the whole thing.
5. Unless you’re a soldier competing before an officer of a higher rank, skip the saluting business. It’s an antediluvian hold-over from piping’s long gone military roots.
6. If you make a slip in your tune, just get back on track and keep going. I and a growing number of judges would rather give a prize to someone who went off the tune than to someone who was never on it. (Credit goes to Andrew Wright for that line.)
7. Wear it well. No one relishes wearing the kilt and all its uncomfortable accoutrements. But, if we have to do it, we may as well do it well. Get a piping/drumming suit that fits. If in doubt, ask The Style Guy for assistance.
8. Similar to the first point, if there’s a lot of piping noise around your competition, and you’re having trouble hearing your drones, the judge is having the exact same problem. Don’t stand there screwing at them to no avail. On such days, just do your best to get them close and get on with it. After the event, be sure to express your concern about the closeness of events to your association. They need to understand when competitors (the body of the association) are not pleased so that they can work with the games committees to improve conditions.
9. Arrive in plenty of time and don’t try to fiddle the draw. If you frequently make up reasons to play later, you’ll get a bad reputation very quickly.
10. Treat your steward with respect. These people are mainly volunteers. They are doing the best they can. If there’s something they can do to improve, politely let them know after the contest. And a simple “thank you” goes a very long way. Besides, it’s just good manners.

So, there you are. Ten points to consider. Have a good games!