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Oh the king he sits...

the A985

I grew up in a sleepy little village called Limekilns, just outside Dunfermline – rock capital of the Western World (or it seemed so in 1986). Up the road, the A985 to be exact was Crossford, which was like the outhouse to the rock capital of the world. Significantly however, it seemed to be the place where all the musicians I went to school with lived. The centre of this musical Mecca was my friend Lee’s studio, which was attached to the site of his parent’s house. Lee’s Dad Pete played, and still does play, bass with Nazareth. Lee now plays drums for them, but that’s another story. On weekends I used to cycle to Crossford, which seemed like about 560 miles, and hang out in this Aladdin’s cave of records, guitars, drums, magazines and seemingly endless potential. Two of Lee’s younger brothers, Stevie and Chris, also both great musicians, would also be in attendance. Along with the various muso waifs and strays, of which I was proudly one, it was like Swiss family metal.

There is an aspect of musicianship which is hard to fully develop unless playing in a band. I don’t mean a working touring band, although that has its benefits, but simply the act of playing with other musicians in a live or ‘rehearsal’ environment. From a guitarist’s perspective, its rhythm playing that benefits most from this scenario; playing the same section over and over again is not something a player is inclined to do when practicing in their bedroom, but in doing so a player will establish a solid understanding of phrasing and dynamics than would be possible playing alone. Wax on wax off as Mr Miyage would say.


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Park Music Dunfermline