Out today TwinsTown’s Say Goodbye to the Summer (Official Music Video) features the band playing at The Twa Tams in Perth. Watch the story of the day as the band and fans set off from the Fire Station in Dunfermline and rock the place with a blistering set before wrestling breaks out with Hugh Reed and the Velvet Underpants.
If only we could say goodbye to the summer. I’m writing this in the dead of winter, Sunday 14th February to be precise, and there’s snow everywhere. You might be hitting springtime as you read this, but these wee previews are delayed sometimes. Where I am now it’s cold and bleak, there’s snow turning to slush, and worst of all, it’s Valentine’s Day. Yeowk!
Still, there’s Man Utd on TV and I’m listening to Stevie Agnew playing live; headphones on, laptop tuned to Facebook, and Stevie’s Sunday Sesh in full flow. I think Stevie’s been working on his audience banter and the music is brilliant. Liam Saunders is on the keyboard, although I can only see his hands, and Hamish and Kyle are off-camera in the background somewhere. I’ll be tuning in again next week. First class entertainment.
That’s Stevie finished. No offence, Stevie, time for TwinsTown.
Click on media player, play… Say Goodbye to the Summer is on my headphones now. It begins with Wayne and Mark, a strong double beat on drums and keys respectively, before fuzzy guitar work, melody and verse one.
The superb 40 second intro, quite long for TwinsTown, is followed by a well structured, tuneful and fairly conventional indie pop song.
As The KLF say, “to the bridge, to the bridge, to the bridge now”.
In 1988 The KLF wrote a book called The Manual (How to Have a Number One the Easy Way), however TwinsTown are taking no shortcuts. Say Goodbye to the Summer demonstrates how TwinsTown have worked long and hard to develop their talents. I suppose the trick is to make it look simple.
The deceptive complexity of Say Goodbye to the Summer is also revealed in the chorus as it points to a deeper meaning.
The last line of the chorus, “Say goodbye to everyone,” makes me wonder; is this a simple goodbye to the summer, or is this someone on their last knockings, the summer being a metaphor for life.
I suppose I’ll never know. It’s not as if I can just phone these superstars up and ask. They’re busy out sledging and building snowmen today.
Brankholm Brae the stunning debut album from TwinsTown to be released this year, 2021. The exact date will be decided shortly.
I’m sitting in the flat above Tappie Toories, thinking about Stuart Adamson writing Big Country songs up here. Now I’m thinking if Harry doesn’t arrive soon we’ll be doing the interview doon The Glen or on the benches opposite The Old Inn. It’s 5.15pm and I’m lonely. Now I’m wondering if we can have a drink outside after six. I think we can but only until a minute past midnight on boxing day.
This is 2020. Five days before Christmas. I had a braw lunch at The Carnock Inn today. Steak pie with two tins of Irn Bru. My social inhibitions have not been lowered for a very long time. News just in, Police Scotland have no plans to establish checkpoints or road blocks at the border. Now I see Celtic celebrating the quadruple treble in an empty stadium. Despite setting his lawyers on the BBC, Tyson Fury is still in the running for Sports Personality of the Year. You couldn’t really make this up.
Where is Harry!?
News just in, Harry’s daughter Frankie is finishing her ice cream. I fetch the tins from the fridge. It’s the benches for us.
Harry the big bad bassist bangs the door. The lights on Bruce Street are beautiful reminding me things could be worse. Thankfully TwinsTown are Covid-19 free. Cree Spowart who lives on Bruce Street told me this year’s lights are a tribute to Dunfermline’s weaving industry. My mum left school to help with the war effort and became a weaver at 15 years of age.
Anyway, the twins in TwinsTown keep telling me they’re in a rock ‘n’ roll band and I need to make them appear all rock ‘n’ roll. That means less blethering pish about whatever. Well, I say twins, Donald is the particular one. Stuart doesn’t give a monkey’s what I write.
“Right Harry, what’s rock ‘n’ roll about you?”
He looks surprised. I’ve surprised myself. I’m angry.
“C’mon then,” I continue, “sitting on a bench at the corner of Maygate and Kirkgate drinking a can of Tennents, rock ‘n’ roll, aye!?”
“Fuck AYE!” he replies.
“You should be in Tappies now, playing to a heaving crowd of 114, or at least a polite, sanitised, socially distanced, reduced capacity 25 all enjoying table service, with both doors open for maximum ventilation. Do you feel robbed?”
“Aye, totally, but we’ll think of a funnier answer than that.”
Ten minutes later…
“I’ve no funny answer, but as a serious answer, I do feel frustrated. We have an album [Brankholm Brae] in production and limited opportunity to promote it.”
Harry braved the cold, scooped a bottle of wine, and told me his role on Brankholm Brae is bass guitarist, and occasionally lead guitar. His favourite bass line is Dive In, an upbeat track about bouncing back after heartache.
“I tried to add texture to Dive In’s bass line by avoiding first position root notes and aiming for greater complexity, whilst keeping it true to the spirit of the song,” explained Harry.
Wow, the wine is potent.
Harry goes on, “I like playing Bed Bugs on a high register. It’s not difficult but it’s fun to play. As is Say Goodbye to the Summer, where no one complains when I crank up the distortion pedal.”
Harry’s catchphrase is “flare it!” as he is notorious for flaring his guitar pedals, anytime, anywhere, any angle, and any song.
Harry loves recording in the studio. It’s obvious. Yet his shyness kicks in.
“This is going to sound like a Mr. Men book,” complains Harry as he clams up.
“What Mr. would you be, Harry?”
“Mr. Flare It!” Harry fires back.
His shyness gone, he shows me his new tattoo. ‘Flare It!’ on his chest. Mark, Stuart and Donald have the same. It’s male bonding gone bananas.
Hoping for a hard-hitting question, “I hear you’re a big fan of Danny Dyer, is this true?” I ask.
“No, I prefer Sean Bean, in Sharpe, and Ronnie Scotland.”
In other important matters, I wonder who is Harry’s favourite Tappies bar tender. Apparently, it’s Shaunski aka Shaun Manuel Mitchell who was famously hospitalised after falling off the monkey bars in a local swing park.
We’ve been sat on these benches for three hours. I’m freezing. We’ve had a few drinks. You can probably tell.
“We need a sensible finish,” I suggest, hopefully.
“We didn’t finish talking about my favourite track. It’s Spitfire. I get to show off my guitar skills on it,” replies Harry, “and I totally flared it!”