Who is Scar Quilse?

Born in a trowie mound (or Pictish broch) behind Mavis Grind in the North Mainland of Shetland, Scar Quilse is an enigma wrapped in a Fair Isle gansie. Or a conundrum. Or both.

Scar is a distant cousin of the infamous "musician" Zander 'Blind Boy' Flugga, eventually banned from appearances on BBC Radio Scotland after the unfortunate 'Dolphinsludgegate' events.

He is well known in the isles for his peculiar beard.

Tuesday, 16 September 2014

Final week. Wednesday: Classic Car (The Always Look Underneath Song)

Always wanted an S type Jaguar
It’s wasn’t the old man’s favourite car
That was a Cortina 1600E to tell the truth
Olympic Gold, with Rostyle wheels and a black vinyl roof
But we travelled in old VX490s, Vivas
Drove to the Gospel Hall, we true believers
Where the preachers said the devil was a trickster
Who seduced us with Vauxhalls, with Crestas and Victors

A classic car
memory and pride
More than just a ride
A classic car
It’s the life you never had
Better than  your dad’s
A classic car

I bought a Wolseley, expecting it to smell
Like  I was 10, in a taxi to a Largs  hotel
But it reeked of damp and mildew, of fibreglass and rust
On the A80 in Moodiesburn, it finally bit the dust
You can’t go back, you can’t return
To when it didn’t matter how much fuel you burned
When smoking was good for your health
And you could let the babies sleep upon the parcel shelf

You can’t go back, maybe remembering is sweet
But history is what we learn so we don’t have to repeat
Build a useless border, sing some songs and raise a flag
Then from some wide-boy dealer, you buy a bodged-up deathtrap Jag
It looked great in the showroom, it filled your heart with pride
All your limousine ambitions that could not be denied
The deal is done, the trouble start, you’re in a world of pain
And you realise that you can’t go back, you can’t go back home again

Copyright 2014 Scar Quilse. All rights reserved.

Final week, a song a day, Tuesday: Scottish Forever (The Disagreement Song)

I’m a Tunnocks Teacake, you’re salt and sauce
You like cowping your caber, I couldn’t give a toss
I’m in favour of the great salt and vinegar snog
You prefer to cuddle up with a Caramel Log

We share a love of the great Vindaloo
And a nan bread each, never one between two
I’m Lagavulin or Ardbeg, you’re Glenlivet or Grants
I wear breeks, you like a kilt with stout underpants

And we’ll be Scottish forever
Agreeing never
No matter where we go
Yes or No

I’ll have Loch Lomond, you can have Loch Ness
We’ll share the monster and the wallabies, that’s probably best
Tennents or McEwens, Belhaven or Deuchars
I’ll have porridge with salt, you can have yours with sugar

I’ll just say this, we disagree
It’s Yes for you and No for me
But that’s all right, I have no doubt
I’ll be fine once the stitches get taken out

I’m for pan fried scallops, you’re into Scampi Fries
I prefer the real thing, you prefer the lies
I’m not saying I’m right, I’m not saying you’re wrong

Actually, I am. I’ve been right all along

Words and music copyright Scar Quilse 2014. All rights reserved.

Monday, 15 September 2014

Final week: A song a day, Monday. Snake Handlers in Kirkintilloch (The Act of Faith Song)

Inspired by this video of a poor deluded soul in the USA whose act of faith led to death at the hands of a rattlesnake.

My daughter's gone to live in Milton Keynes
She says she knows what independence will mean
My son's in Wick, he says the country's a mess
But if it makes things worse he'll still vote yes

I've been feeling depressed for the last two years
It's like the 18th century is still happening here
Fighting over the fate of this wee nation
Like trans versus consubstantiation

Now there's a new church down the street from me
They say they worship a God who wants Scotland free
And to prove that God doesn't make mistakes
They like to sing happy songs and play with poisonous snakes

Snake handlers in Kirkintilloch
They believe in God and border controls
Snake handlers in Kirkintilloch
Where a bite from a Copperhead can save your soul

I saw a Black Mamba and a coastal Taipan
The preacher had one of each in either hand
He shouted I believe in everything Nicola said
Then the Mamba bit him and he dropped down dead

I bought a house on the River Tweed
It's got everything I could possibly need
The border runs right across the living room floor
My own United Kingdom when I shut the door

And if they insist on a wall and some razor wire
Between the television and the electric fire
I'll tell them exactly where they can go
I had my own referendum and I voted no

But now there are Snake handlers in Selkirk
They believe in God and border controls
Snake handlers in Selkirk
They say a bite from a Copperhead will save your soul

But they'll secretly admit they're going to vote No

Copyright Scar Quilse, words and music, 2014. All rights reserved

Tuesday, 9 September 2014

Stay Together (The Treachery Song)

Don't call me  a traitor
Because I love both north and south
You should do some thinking, son
Before you open your mouth

 I believe in democracy
That doesn't stop where you draw a line
In justice on the Forth, the Clyde
The Mersey, and the Tyne If we stay together
We can keep each other strong
So let's stand together
That's where we belong

 I never liked to gamble
Because I've seen what it can do
I believe in right and wrong
And I think that you do too

 In the times we're living in today
You can't hide behind a wall
A flag will never be enough
This world is much too small

Words and music copyright Scar Quilse 2014. All rights reserved.

Monday, 1 September 2014

My Nationalist Girlfriend (The Egg Song)

My nationalist girlfriend
She's not my girlfriend anymore
Seduced by an activist
She says she's not a separatist
 But we're separated now
I still love her anyhow
Despite the Saltire tattoo on her cheek
And the eggs she threw at me last week

My nationalist girlfriend
I'm not her boyfriend
She's not my girlfriend anymore

She believes in a currency deal
She's got a poster of Alex Neil
I said it was him or me
She said: it's just a fantasy
 But then she was canvassing in Milngavie
Met Iain, aged 50, into Hue and Cry
I said at least it's not Runrig she said he likes them too
And he's got every album released by Deacon Blue

My nationalist girlfriend
I'm not her boyfriend
She's not my girlfriend anymore

She says MI5 are active in the No campaign
They tear down posters, they break windows
And it's Yes that gets the blame
She says Eddi Reader said so, it must be true like it or not
That unionists are evil Quislings, traitors to the Scots

And I have a picture of her it's true
Just the week before she got the tattoo
I keep it next to my heart
Even though she has torn it apart

My nationalist girlfriend
She's not my girlfriend anymore

Copyright Scar Quilse 2014. All rights reserved.

Monday, 25 August 2014

A Wholly Healthy Happy Scotland (the homeopathy song)

A Wholly Healthy Scotland (The Tartan Partan Song)
 I believe in Angus the Tartan Partan
I believe there are fairies at the bottom of my garden
I believe in the National Collective
 I believe that Taggart was a real detective

 And I believe in a wholly healthy, happy Scotland

 I believe that North Sea oil will last forever
I believe that Alex Salmond used to be quite clever
I read Scottish books, they’re my artistic heartland
I love that Lesley Riddoch and that Barbara Cartland I believe in a wholly healthy happy Scotland

 A pure unblemished Scotland
Where no-one gets sick or ill
That’s the promise that’s been made to us
And I believe it still
There will be no sorrow there will be no pain
And we will qualify for the World Cup again
We’ll drink cocktails made of Eldorado, Buckfast and Champagne
In Scotland A wholly healthy, happy Scotland

 Doctors say they’ll leave, but we just laugh
We’ll have nurse practitioners and homeopaths
And so much oil the North Sea’s greasy
We’ll abolish death. It’ll be quite easy

 For I believe in a wholly healthy happy Scotland

 And it will last for a thousand years
There will be no more anguish, there will be no more tears
And everything will blossom Just like Norway
Just like Norway

Monday, 18 August 2014

The Nearest Thing to Dreams (The Fergusons Song)

 The quote from the Salford poet Robert Rose jumped out at me from a tweet posted by Dumbarton MSP Jackie Baillie. Fergusons is the last non-military shipyard on the Clyde and the last of any sort on the Lower Clyde. It now being in administration, with the potential loss of 70 jobs, is a tragedy for the communities of Port Glasgow and Greenock.

“Ships are the nearest things to dreams that hands have ever made,
For somewhere deep in their oaken hearts the soul of a song is laid.”

 Robert N Rose

 Heard there’s a padlock on the gates today
Went down to check, I just walked away
The Prince of Wales for a pint or two
Try to think of something else to do

 One hundred and eleven years
That’s how long there’s been a shipyard here
Not one order on the books they say
They’re saying nothing about our back pay

 The nearest things to dreams That hands have made or ever will
Now all our hopes and dreams
Have turned to unpaid bills
Through calm and storm
Those ships are sailing still
 The nearest things to dreams

 Politicians do the stuff they always do
Say it’s very sad, that much at least is true
They say there are jobs for us, that things just might be fine
In call centres, or one pound shops, or selling junk online

 And in my house there’s pictures on my walls
Too many names for me to say them all
Flying Foam, the Flying Spray, Scotia, Sulisker
The Star Capella, Tirrick and the Shalder were built here

 The Fivla and the Loch Dunvegan, Isle of Arran, Stirling Spey
The Pharos and the Falcon, the Hebrides, the Stirling Tay
I look at them, nothing can change the way I feel
The pride and mystery of my seagoing steel

Monday, 11 August 2014

The Sovereign Will Of The Scottish People (The Panda Song)

This was inspired by a post on Roger White's 'No Thanks' blog, which you can find here: http://mercinon.wordpress.com/2014/08/07/the-sovereign-will-of-the-scottish-people/ . It analysed the repetition of the phrase 'The Sovereign Will of the Scottish People' by Alex Salmond during the recent debate on STV with Alistair Darling.

An end to the biting midge in the Highlands
The eradication of ticks
A Caramel Wafer that makes you lose weight
And every pothole fixed
That’s the Sovereign Will of the Scottish People
Motorway all the way  from Perth to Inverness
Reopen all open air swimming pools
A football team that wins the World Cup
A panda in every school
That’s the Sovereign Will of the Scottish People

The Sovereign Will of the Scottish People
There’s a phrase that rings so pure
Say it in German, say it in Russian
Maybe I’m not so sure
About the Sovereign Will of the Scottish People

Deep fried Mars Bars in every nursery
A cure for asthma found in cigarettes
Cheap flights to the  moon from Prestwick
Winning money every time you bet
On the Sovereign Will of the Scottish People
And it shall be so
Because we say it shall be so
And the Bank of England will do as we say
For in truth, they must obey
The Sovereign Will of the Scottish People

And when aliens arrive in their spaceships at Wick
We'll welcome them like superstars
They'll take away all the nuclear submarines
And put them on the planet Mars
For that is the Sovereign Will of the Scottish People

The Sovereign Will of the Scottish People
There’s a phrase that rings so pure
Say it in German, say it in Russian
Maybe I’m not so sure
About the Sovereign Will of the Scottish People

Scar Quilse 2014

Tuesday, 5 August 2014

Salmondland (The Midge Song)

Salmondland (The Midge Song)

My English friends don’t know pickled eggs must be deep fried
My English relatives - they can all move to Milngavie
My English enemies can stand at the border, weeping Union Jack tears
Wishing they could get past the minefields and settle here

It’ll be marvellous, our health service will still be there
We’ll fund it by making hydrogen from water and air
And selling it all to the Russians, they’ll be happy to pay
And then we’ll all be as rich as they are in Norway

 In Salmondland Everything will be OK
 In Salmondland Richer and happier every day
We don’t let the facts get in the way In Salmondland

I believe in a land flowing with whisky and Macaroon bars
Where the unemployed will all be reality TV stars
And everyone will be pretty and handsome and rich
And midges will be genetically changed so their bites don’t itch

But now I hear the pessimists are saying That Scotland might say no
And columnists and pop stars and care home operators
Are all looking for somewhere to go

And when the Herald and the Scotsman have been bought by the Sunday Post
And Kevin McKenna has moved to the Amalfi Coast
In my darkest moments, I’m desperate and grumpy and scared
That’s because my cousin in France has told me I can’t move there

 Copyright Scar Quilse 2014

Monday, 28 July 2014

Pure Dead Amazing (The Commonwealth Games Song)

The Trongate's so clean I licked up my spilt pakora sauce last night
I got the late bus home to Possil and I didn't see a single fight
All the junkies are in a big shed at Weirs of Cathcart
They're getting sent to Edinburgh when the festival starts
And everything is pure dead amazing in Freedom City now The queue at Mother India is longer than the River Clyde
There are bowlers in the park eating pizzas that've been deep fried
I'm going to take up Judo it's right up my street
Though I'll not wear pyjamas or be in bare feet
Everything is pure dead amazing in the Freedom City now

 Pure dead amazing and brilliant and completely sublime
All the poor folk are invisible, and nobody's committing crime
Nobody gets beat up here for being gay
At least not in the west end, or not every day
Everything is pure dead amazing in the city now

 See when it's over, it'll still be fantastic then
Dalmarnock's on the up and up, it's gonna be the new Bearsden
Cappuccino and focaccia and juice bars too
Life expectancy for men will rise to 52
Everything is pure dead amazing in the city now

 Copyright Scar Quilse, 2014

Tuesday, 22 July 2014

Naebody Ever Asked Me (The Opinion Poll Song)

I’m quiet as a moose
I very rarely leave the hoose     
Shop at the Co-op, Tesco, never
(Except if I’m desperate, cause they deliver)

I’m hardly young, but I’m no very old
I don’t like doing what I’m told
Folk say they speak for me on television
But they never asked for my permission
Naebody ever asked me
Naebody ever asked me
I’m a simple soul, I’m no in they polls
Naebody ever asked me

I call him Max for short, he’s a rescue pug
Maxton’s too long a name for a dug
My pal Sue’s got a mutt called Karl, a Staffie
She walks  him in the park, she likes to wear her baffies

Naebody ever asked me....

So will I make to the polling station
To seal the fate of this wee nation?
I’ll make it if I have to crawl
Karl and Max’ll be there and all

And me and and Sue too, you will see
We'll be voting for solidarity
For the union of the working class
Our voices will be heard at last
I could've tellt you, but you never asked...

Naebody ever asked me...

Copyright Scar Quilse 2014. All rights reserved.

Tuesday, 15 July 2014

One Pair o'Tartan Trews (The Fashion Song)

One pair o’ tartan trews
What was Wee Eck trying tae do?
He can’t wear a kilt
Cause his bum gets aw chillt
And his knees get aw frostbitten too
Two hundred and fifty pounds
Ah but somehow the money was found
The taxpayer paid
The trews were tailor made
The first minister’s joy was profound

They were worn at a Chinese ball
Eck didnae go down well at all
Another Panda he sought
Bits of chicken he got
Deep fried in sweet and sour balls

He’s repaid the money at last
And those trews are a thing of the past
For as Wee Eck  expands
He needs elastic bands
To keep his pull-ups at half mast

Now the Commonwealth Games are here
And oor athletes have bonny new gear
It’s the tartan frae hell
Wee Eck’s got some as well
Made into a simmet I fear.

Monday, 7 July 2014

New Scotland (The Camper Van Song)

A camper van called Scotland

I bought a camper van on eBay
I was a wee bit nervous
The guy said he’d got it from
The St John’s Ambulance Service
He’d fitted it with a double bed
And a woodburning stove
When I got off the train in Preston to pick it up
I just fell in love
Two hundred thousand miles
It had independent suspension
Ran out of fuel on the Great North Road
I wasn’t paying attention
When the guy said it was thirsty
I thought he meant he liked a drink
Not 10 miles to the gallon
I guess I just didn’t think

I called it Scotland
My beloved Scotland
It’ll take me everywhere I want to roam
Scotland, my beloved Scotland
Don’t ever tell me Scotland’s not my home

I got a tow to a caravan site
I lit the stove and settled down
It was somewhere in Northumbria
I drank  my first can of Newcastle Brown
I found I quite enjoyed the place
The folk seemed just the same
I met a girl from Penrith called Tracy
MacMillan was her middle name

That was fifteen years ago
I’ve hardly been north since
I even found a chip shop
Sells Morton’s Rolls with mince
Sometimes I go to Peebles
That’s just like Edinburgh only wee
I suppose I live in England
It’s all Scotland to me

Copyright Scar Quilse 2014

Monday, 30 June 2014

Making History (The Bannockburn Live! Song)

I always wanted to be Robert the Bruce
Bonnie Scotland I would save
I lined the garden shed with loft insulation
And built myself a cave
Then I got myself a spider
From a pet shop in Mothereell
Tied it to a string, watched it swing
Till it began to smell

Mum knitted me some chain mail
From some very lovely Shetland wool
I sprayed it Volvo grey and then one Friday
I wore it to the school
I got a kicking in the playground
They tore my chainmail to bits
I swore vengeance on they English
Even though I lived in Coatbridge

 Oh Bannockburn
Or maybe it was Flodden
Or it could have been Culloden
It's all the same to me
Stirling bridge or Prestonpans
I'm just a simple fighting man
Plastic broadsword in my hands
I'm making history

In our re-enactment society
We re-enact an awful lot
We did the Battle of Jutland
On Queen's Park Pond with some model yachts
for Bannockburn I said I'd be Robert
But it was all stitched up before
I played the front end of Edward the Second's horse
Which wisnae what I signed up for

All rights reserved. By Scar Quilse, 2014

Wednesday, 25 June 2014

Sturgeon Wall (The Buckfast Song)

Sturgeon Wall (The Buckfast song)

Barbed wire on the border
Got to cross The Sturgeon Wall
Barbed wire on the border
Got to cross the Sturgeon Wall
You should see the tailbacks on the A7 at Mosspaul

Checking the lorries
I'm no' pleased
Got sixty crates of Buckfast heading for Dundee

The monks don't like it,
The monks don't like it
The monks don't like it, naebody likes it
Take my freedom if you like that's fine
You’ll never  take my tonic wine

Immigration man
He's wearing tartan trews
And a wee Mac10 submachine gun he's dying to use

Looking for a payoff
In those daft Caledonian groats
In my passport, sonny
there's 200 million note
That'll buy a few votes

Now I'm heading for Tayside
With my electric soup
Everybody in Broughty Ferry is pure dead cockahoop


Copyright Scar Quilse 2014. All rights reserved.

Monday, 16 June 2014

It Wisnae Me (The CyberNat Song)

Two tins of superlager, feeling no pain
I start typing away as fast as wee Patrick Kane
Searching for unionists on the internet
I hunt them down like dogs every chance I get
It wisnae me
It wisnae me
I’m as nice as nice can be
I don’t even shout at the BBC
Unless I’m pissed
Then I turn into a nationalist

They say I’m a Nazi, what a load of dross
You take just one selfie with one iron cross
It wisnae even real I made it myself
From a Commando Comic cover and some fuzzy felt

That wee Ruth Davidson, she does karate
I’ll just pretend I’m in the Tory Party
If she turns up at the front door of my hoose
And then I’ll turn my pitbull Nicola loose

See all yon civic nationalism stuff?
After a while everybody's had enough
You don’t say you hate the English till you’ve had a few drams
Then you hit that keyboard and you feel like a real man

It wisnae me, it wisnae me
I'm as nice as nice can be
I never even shout at the BBC
Unless I'm pished
Then I turn into a nationalisht...

Sunday, 15 June 2014

Bastards in the North (The Blossom Song)

If you go wandering in our kilt-infested streets
You may receive a friendly wave from everyone you meet
These are exceptions that prove the rule
Really we're just planning to deport you southern fools

Better stay inside and don't go out, friend
If you do, your illusions may come to an end
I love those words that are coming from your mouth
But there's just as many bastards in the north
As in the south

You may have heard our tartan doors are never locked
But in the hallways shotguns sit, they're loaded and they're cocked
For the most part we are polite
Secretly we're planning to provoke you into flight

And there are places no visitor should walk
We'll kill and eat you if we hear the southern way you talk
Unless of course you are prepared to pay
Just give us lots of money and quickly go away

And if you settle here, if you think we're nice
If you buy a burnt out cottage at the incomer's price
Maybe you've seen that film, The Wicker Man?
The person who was in that house before you understands

Bettter stay inside and don't go out friend
If you do your illusions may come to an end
I love those words that are coming from your mouth
But there's just as many bastards in the north
As in the south