Checkout timing mark 01:00 and catch the lyric “…for he goes birling down and down the white water..”.

“Birling”, you’ll know, is the spinning and moving forward of the logs in the water (and is, in fact, now a sport!) but note that birling is an old Scots word for rotating or to move rapidly – the kind of thing pipers’ pinky fingers do in the closing parts of Donald MacLeod’s “Crossing the Minch”.

M.

M.

Odd to me (and that upper case “O” would stand even without kicking off a sentence) that the new leadership of the GC, namely Rodney MacDonald – himself a terrific fiddler – should give the big welly boot hoof to piping and, seemingly, Highland dancing. Gone from the curriculum is Great Highland Bagpipe music as played around the world and in its place something called “Cape Breton piping” or “kitchen piping”.

I can guess what is meant by “Cape Breton piping”: it’s essentially bagpipe music that evokes the fiddle and, some might say, the sounds of Gaelic language. But “kitchen piping”? Kitchen piping as we know it today are words used in the wider piping world to describe showy, usually newish, music performed in an informal setting – like the kitchen (hello!). While “kitchen piping” may’ve been a phrase used for eons it’s only been in the last 20 years or so that the phrase has gained any general currency. I’ve never heard it used synonymous with bagpiping in CB.

The best player of piping in the CB style that I know is John MacLean, an old friend who now lives outside of Halifax. John’s Dad was a fiddler but John’s bagpiping was developed in a world of rich history and strong musical discipline: the competitive bagpipe world. I think back to the comment made to me this past summer by the great South Uist piper Rona Lightfoot, “you can’t make much music without some technique”. John MacLean is an example of a piper with strong technique that has easily adapted to the piping-fiddle style needed for supporting music for dancing, or “square sets”. I can tell you: of the relatively few pipers with connections to CB, John MacLean’s technical excellence is not common.

From my earliest experience journeying through CB I could feel a strong sense of the bagpipe as made for steerage and the fiddle first class. Yes, CB experienced great luck in landing expert old-school (nineteenth century) pipers on her shores, but that excellence was never sustained. Perhaps the fiddle co-opted the greatness of the old pipers. Certainly without bagpipe music the Cape Breton fiddle repertoire is but a hollow stump. And not just old bagpipe music: we commonly hear the brilliance of “competitive military-style pipers” throughout the CB fiddle repertoire: “Kintara to el Arish” (William Fergusson, 7th H.L.I), “Inverary Castle” and “John MacDonald of Glencoe (Willie Lawrie, Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders), “John Morrison, Assynt House”, “The Conundrum” (Peter R MacLeod, Scottish Rifles) – this to name but a tiny few.

There’s great glory and tradition and, dare I say, Gaelic-ness to today’s “competitive” bagpipe music. It’s a rich, lively tradition with huge vibrancy. It evolves. It moves forward. It influences, even CB fiddlers – whether they know it or not.

A shame the GC has sought to look further inward as the institution, assumedly, seeks to grow and move forward and be acknowledged as relevant both to CB pipers — and those beyond the Causeway.

St Ann smoke signals suggest this is unlikely.

M.

I take good manners over (good-intentioned) “political correctness” anyday. What can beat good manners with a splash of the golden rule?

So we come to Halloween. You may’ve seen the recent bit of news around the students from Ohio University and their well-meaning Halloween “we’re a culture, not a costume” ad campaign. The campaign was, or is, intended to underscore the huge offense in firing up Halloween costumes that promote cultural stereotypes. Images of Mexican, African-American, Japanese and Native, or aboriginal, American were among those put forward.

Now there’s no doubt, to my way of thinking, that there is merit, in seeking to educate people about offensive cultural stereotypes. But all this press, this talk, this noise, got me thinking: what’s with the on-going societal permissiveness of British-based stereotypes? Really.

This may be a surprise to UK readers but to Canadian and American (and Australia, New Zealand and, perhaps, assorted other Commonwealth countries) this is real: the cheap, er, “frugal” Scot, the drunken, fight-ready Ulsterman and the snooty, emotionally cold Englishman are all common themes on the storyboards of most global advertising agencies. Fair game. And no one blinks an eye.

While today a kid doing the Halloween rounds dressed as James Fenimore Cooper’s Mohican, Chingachgook, may be totally and completely politically incorrect, it seems odd to me that it’s all well and good for that same kid’s pal to do the rounds as Austin Power’s Scottish “Fat Bastard”.

What a complicated world we live in.

M.

First up, Home Depot, that huge North American mecca of all that’s DIY. I needed a light switch cover. It’s pissing rain, I aim to be in and out in a few minutes and carry on. In I go. First off, as I pass through the door, there’s a pimpley-faced guy in his early twenties with a fist full of flyers and a way-too-cheery “welcome to Home Depot”. Yeah, whatever, thinks me, as I stare fixed on my mission and rudely (yet supportively of Home Depot) carry on. So I grab my $2.98 purchase and head to the cashier. And what awaits me?

“Hi there, did you find everything you were looking for today?”
“Yup”, says me.
“Are you paying with your Home Depot card today?”
“Nope. Debit.”
“Would you like to get a Home Depot card?”
“No”.
“Can I have your postal code?”
“NO”
“Do you need a bag today?” [our so-green part of the world charges five cents for every plastic carry bag used]
“NO”

I manage to make my way out of Home Depot without a Home Depot credit card and a marginally increased level of crabbieness (crabbitness to some).

On to Chapters, the bookstore (bookstores of a similar size in the UK would Waterstone’s or W H Smith, Collins in Australia).

I picked up my purchase and walked to the cash, dreading, every step – and I mean this – that I’d get the infamous/dreaded (to us locals) cashier who asked twenty questions before taking your dough.

The dreaded Chapters cashier was there but fate smiled on me and I got “Betty” to take my order. Betty: a late middle-aged disciple, as it turned out, of our infamous long-winded Chapters check-out person (name witheld – but believe me, she is infamous amongst people I know in the area who shop at this store: a cashier to be avoided at all costs).

“Hi there, did you find everything you were looking for today?”
“Yes.”
“Can I interest you in a rewards card?”
“No.”
“Are you aware that the reward card benefits… ”
“Yes.”
“Oh, how would you like to pay?”
“Debit.”
“Can I have your postal code?”
“No.”

Everyone I know hates this kind of invasive questioning. Why, oh, why do these places do it? To encourage online buying?

A check-out at one of these places is worse than being held at the line at a big pipe band contest. Really.

OK. So there is a bagpipe connection today.

Have you considered signing up for Dunaber reward points?

M.

I was at Glasgow Green on Saturday and came across a fellow who played in a band from the west coast of the U.S. He thought Saturday was a great day for pipe bands in the U.S. I suggested to him that it was just a great day for pipe bands. Period. Yeah, good for the bands to do well and play well and without doubt high performance helps local scenes, for sure. But flag waving isn’t necessary.

Around 30,000 people turned up at Glasgow Green and I have a pretty good idea that most of those folks were mums, dads and very-good and loyal friends. The casual pipe band-loving ticket-buying fan was pretty thin on the ground.

When we’re in Glasgow, the centre of the piping world and crowds are modest for a major gathering of Scotland’s music, we’re reminded, I think, that things related to the Great Highland Bagpipe are delicate. It seems to me, too, that serious enthusiasts of piping and pipe bands have way more in common with each other than with many of their own countrymen.

Anyway, waving maple leafs, stars and stripes and the Gwenn-ha-du just doesn’t help move the music forward.

Better to do what we can to continue to support each other without thinking so much about passport details.

M.

I’ve taken some pics and include them here. Maybe someone can shed more light on the persons who won the prizes (there are two names listed both with the surname Walker). There are no longer games in Lucknow, St Catherines or Hamilton. I’ve never heard of competitions in Lucknow (a place I’ve only passed through driving north to Kincardine) or St Catherines. We know, of course, St Catherines produced a great pipe band in Clan MacFarlane, but these medals pre-date the band by decades.

Anyway, a little bit of history. These medals suggest a busy games scene in southern Ontario as far back as 1870. Look at the workmanship on these babies! Hand engraving. They really are lovely pieces of our history. And I always think that when it comes to bagpipes, pipers everywhere share a big collective history: a history without borders.

I cheekily include – for fun – a pic of what the overall solo piping winner is awarded at the North American Championships, at Glengarry Highland Games. Not sure anyone – even they with more dollars than sense – will be buying this at an auction in 140 years.

So I can say today, that the nicest prizes I have are those I never won.

M.

M.

Anyway, my bit was a comparative look at pipe band ensemble. I checked out competitive orchestras – yes, they do compete – American high school concert bands and British brass bands. I learned a lot in my seeking out of information related to other competitive musical worlds. For instance, I can now tell you with great certainty that it’s scarily, freakishly and jaw-droppingly amazing how close the British brass band world mirrors that of the pipe band. Maybe a blab for another day.

But one of the biggest surprises, or “a-ha moment” is related to music copyright [here's me grabbing the chance to poke fun at corporate jargon: for those not exposed to the lingo, an "a-ha moment" is what people in corporate meeting rooms everywhere, it seems, say when they learn something new].

I’ve always imagined myself pretty savvy when it comes to copyright. I’ve a pretty good understanding of my rights as a composer, a publisher and what needs to be done when I make a record. But I’d never thought much about the licensing of music when it came to the subject of live piping, or pipe band performance. We so easily bend to the path of least resistance – the way it’s always been done. Sometimes, anyway!

Other competitive musical worlds – like those mentioned here – slavishly follow the laws of copyright to the letter. All scores must be provided in advance of a contest. Proof of publisher’s permission to both reproduce scores (those scores provided to adjudicators) and perform non-public domain compositions live, must be given to event organizers. This requirement is provided plainly in the rules of entry – not talking fine print here – it is baseline info provided up-front on entry forms. Penalty points are assigned musical combos that fail to follow copyright rules.

When it comes to copyright generally and performance licensing specifically, the piping world and, especially, the pipe band world, well, like a stop sign in Italy, it’s viewed only as a suggestion.

What exactly am I talking about? Well, consider this from SOCAN, Canada’s performing rights organization (and there’s an agency for anyone in the world looking to be aligned with one). These agencies exist to help protect the intellectual rights of composers and help get them what they’re due. They collect licence fees, as set by their national or organizational copyright board, from anyone playing or broadcasting live or recorded music.

In Canada, according to the Copyright Act, any public performance of copyright-protected musical works requires a licence. The Copyright Act is law. So, when a song – or tune – gets played in public, music creators (not just the performers) are entitled to collect their licence fees. This is the way of things in most countries; certainly so in Canada, the U.S., New Zealand, Australia, South Africa, France, Italy – and the United Kingdom. The list does go on.

Not unlike high school concert bands competing in the United States, pipe bands pretty much everywhere, need to have publisher’s permission, or a publisher’s license, to perform a musical piece. All those ditties we play at pipe band contests the world over – the ones that are not seriously oldie-goldies, like Scotland the Brave, need a license.

Like it or not, without a license, we’re breaking the law.

And that is the truth.

M.

The MacCrimmons: that fabled sixteenth century piping family of virtuoso geniuses. The MacCrimmons, of course, were [and to a lesser extent, I suppose are] the family that provided piping services to the expansive MacLeod clan.

There’s controversy around the MacCrimmon family. Their origins, their piping genius – even their existence – have occasionally come to be a topic of discussion, if not debate – mainly among pipery types (who else would be bothered?).

Anyway, I’m fessing up here: I’m one who believes they lived – well, we know they lived – but I believe many of them living as stratospherically brilliant musicians. I mean, just look at Euan and Calum for sweet evidence of my contention.

My intention today is just to say this: if you’re looking for a monumentally excellent moment, a cool life experience (this goes for anyone – regardless where you live), I suggest – no, I say – for an unforgettable moment in your time, well, head to Skye.

I respectfully suggest that like the devout followers of Islam and the Hajj, or pilgrimage to Mecca, a trip to Skye and the site of the MacCrimmon school at Borreraig is a near-must for Great Highland Bagpipers.

It may not be the religious experience that is the Hajj. But it is special. I’ve ventured to Borreraig a number of times and have always come away a better piper for it.

Go to Borreraig. Bring your pipes. Play a tune.

You’ll not forget the experience – ever.

Now there’s a New Year’s resolution.

M.