scottish highlands |

Singer-songwriter Rachel Sermanni hails, like me, from the Highlands. I’d heard her name on blogs and gig listings for a while before I managed to properly listen to her music, in the form of the beautiful Eggshells and Black Currents EPs. Hers is a beguiling influx of delicate melodies, strummed out acoustic guitar and divine vocal wrapped around fresh, honest lyrics. I lent both CDs to my little sister (see previous post), proof I think her music is pretty special.

Here Rachel talks about her admiration for a musical contemporary – Miss Irenie Rose…

Rachel Sermanni plays…Miss Irenie Rose

I first met this lady on the Island upon which she lives, Lewis. One of Stornoway’s pubs was hosting an open mic. This is when I first heard her play and since then I have been enchanted. When you listen to her songs you feel like they have been with you always and that you don’t know how you lasted so long not realising. They are beautiful and true. Just like her.

We spoke about wanting to become pirates and, at the same and parallel moment, wanting to become ladies of effortless elegance (we’re both a bit trampish). Then when she started singing she became more woman than every other in the pub… man. Woman.

She has ONE EP just now. On it are the songs Rascal, River, My mamma Says, Blow away…

Miss Irenie Rose also has a quite lovely session in the Wee Studio, featuring another song of hers ‘What You Fancy’…

As f0r Rachel Sermanni’s lovely music watch The Waltz, this song is sublime…

Also I love The Fog. Once ran down the street to the chorus with my eyes closed. I see your dubious face, but this you should try.

I discovered Edinburgh band Kid Canaveral later than most folk, actually not through music but because I met one of them (*ref the smiley chap below). I do however believe them to be on the cusp of greatness, the more I listen to their album Shouting and Wildlife the more I like it – in three words it’s bouncy, summery and undeniably Scottish. I put ‘You Only Went Out To Get Drunk Last Night’ whenever I have that lurching morning-after-a-few-too-many feeling: it always makes me smile.

KC’s David McGregor talks through his musical picks (yeah tried to reel him in – but he just kept throwing songs out there!)

Dave's Musical Pick — If only everyone had my million dollar smile

I couldn’t decide. So, I did a short playlist. Not for Spotify, though. That is the devil.

St Patrick – James Yorkston and the Athletes

James Yorkston’s debut album, Moving Up Country, is being re-released in a deluxe double disc edition to mark its 10th Anniversary. It never goes unlistened to for long, but I put it on recently whilst driving through the Highlands, taking it in from start to finish, having been prompted by the news that it was a decade old. It is a flawless record. There isn’t a part of it I would change, and St Patrick is an incredible composition that is entirely typical of the record. It has a subtle, yet devastating lyric and a pop hook that any chart hit would regard jealously. If I ever write anything with half as much heart or wit as JY, I’ll give up music, a satisfied man.

Early That Night – Standard Fare

Standard Fare are my favourite pop band. They released their second album, Out of Sight, Out of Town, a few months ago and this song is one of the quieter moments from it. Emma Kupa has a way with words, and a way with their delivery. This, combined with the dreamy reverb of Dan Howe’s guitar, may make this an atypical representation of the band’s usual high energy indiepop bent, but it is a beautiful inclusion as the penultimate track on the record. You should buy it. And their first one.

Birdhouse in your Soul – They Might Be Giants

This is the best song ever written. You can try and argue with me, but you’d only be woefully incorrect.

Bloodless – Fever Fever

I first heard Fever Fever in the car park of Waterloo Cycles in Austin, Texas (ClassicI’m-a-total-wank, opening anecdote). We’d just played in the sweltering heat and I was trying to find shelter and water after three outdoor, daytime shows taking their toll on my shite Scottish complexion. Then Fever Fever came on and snapped me out of my sunstroke. They’re from Norwich and they’re fucking loud. They’re also really, really good. It was a genuine pleasure to watch Rosie play her guitar by standing on it. I managed to see them in London last week and it was even better than before. So, have this – the title track from their Bloodless EP. It’s a belter.