Tuning in…
Tuning in…
Desert Island Discs
Presented by Roy Plomley
A jazz man, one of Britain's top jazz soloists, a trombonist.
Eight records
this man's voice, this dark brown, silky voice, does things for me. I think it's marvellous. Anything he sings really, it was it was very hard to to choose a a title really.
Flute Sonata No. 4 in C Major, BWV 1033: III. Adagio - IV. Allegro
this is a record of a a man whom I admire tremendously, uh virtuoso, the flute.
Louis Armstrong and His Orchestra
this is a record uh of a man whom I had the honor and pleasure of of doing a concert with at the Fiscal Hall in the nineteen fifties, Satchmore Louis Armstrong. This is a record I love of him called Thanks a Million.
When I was playing piano I listened to this man and I thought, My goodness, I'm going to cut my fingers off. This man is tremendous.
George Chisholm and the Jive Five
Well, he composed this particular tune and um I had the honour to play it on this particular record and it's called Blue Turning Grey.
I Guess I'll Have to Change My PlanFavourite
Bobby Hackett and Jack Teagarden
probably just about my favorite trumpet player, coupled with my favorite trombone player on this particular record.
Horn Concerto No. 2 in E-Flat Major, K. 417: III. Rondo
This is of a man whom I I first met in the RAF and became very friendly with, a wonderful horn player called Dennis Brain. I'd like to remember him in this particular piece of music.
The last record is of a trombone player, an American trombone player who's an absolute virtuoso. whom I met on that party at the Gibson party thing.
The keepsakes
The luxury
In conversation
Presenter asks
How did you set about choosing your desert island ration, just eight discs?
Well, as I said about it, uh records that give me the most enjoyment, uh bring back pleasurable memories or just the sheer artistry of the the artist concerned.
Presenter asks
How old were you when you started in the cinema?
In the cinema I was fourteen. Yeah. Tender age of fourteen. And I used to have to fit music to what went on on the screen.
Presenter asks
When did you decide to come to the big city in the south [London]?
About nineteen thirty six seven.
Presenter asks
The recording
Timestamps play the recording from that turn
George Chisholm
Hello, I'm Kirsty Young, and this is a podcast from the Desert Island Discs Archive.
George Chisholm
For rights reasons, we've had to shorten the music. The programme was originally broadcast in 1982, and the presenter was Roy Plumley.
Presenter
This week our Castaway is a jazz man, one of Britain's top jazz soloists, trombonist George Chisholm. George, how do you feel about a a break away from it all on a desert island? I think that would be marvellous.
Presenter
What would you be happiest to have got away from? Probably the hassle of life in general.
Presenter
Although I've actually moved to a small village, you know, and it's been cut down quite considerably there.
Presenter
You've made quite a few discs yourself. Do you have a a big collection apart from that?
Presenter
Not a tremendous uh collection because um well, it it costs a lot of money to buy these records. Let's put it that way. I understand. How did you set about choosing your desert island ration, just eight discs?
Presenter
Well, as I said about it, uh records that give me the most enjoyment, uh bring back pleasurable memories or just the sheer artistry of the the artist concerned. What's the first one? The first one is a Nat King Cole record, a tune called Autumn Leaves. Why do you choose this particularly? Well, this this man's voice, this dark brown, silky voice, does things for me. I think it's marvellous. Anything he sings really, it was it was very hard to to choose a a title really.
Speaker 2
The falling leaf
Speaker 2
Drift by the window.
Speaker 2
The Autumn Leaves
Speaker 2
Of red and gold.
Speaker 2
I see your lips.
Speaker 2
The summer kisses
Speaker 2
The sunburned hen
Presenter
Nat King Cole, Autumn Leaves. George, there's a rumour going round that you come from Scotland.
Presenter
You could say that, bro, yes, mo indeed, Jimmy. Right. Oh, yes, that's quite where from? From Glasgow, in actual fact.
Presenter
Any music in the family? Well, my father was uh a semi-pro drummer. In a dance band? Yes, he had his own sort of uh little group trio that uh travelled round and I used to I started off myself as a piano player, you know, the You didn't want to lug all that stuff about the piano. No, all that drums and stuff, uh, no way. But uh I started off, would you believe, playing
George Chisholm
No.
Presenter
Piano in Silent Films in a cinema in Glasgow. Now before that, when you were at school, you played with with a little children's concert party. Oh, that's right, yes, a little piero troupe called the Merry Magnets. Mm-hmm.
George Chisholm
Yes.
George Chisholm
Yeah.
George Chisholm
Yeah.
Speaker 3
Uh
George Chisholm
Uh
Speaker 3
Yeah.
Presenter
And they were all dressed in Piero costumes and rufflettes, and I used to play piano for them.
Presenter
And uh I'd have to stand in for anybody who was off ill. You know, if the singer was off, I had to sing. If the dancer was off, I had to dance. If the comic was off, I had to make funnies. And uh you were sort of chucked on your own uh resources, you know, you had to really think. Very good training for you. How old were you when you started in the cinema? In the cinema I was fourteen. Yeah. Tender age of fourteen. And I used to have to fit music to what went on on the screen. A very specialized job, almost a lost art now. Did you rehearse with the pictures at the beginning of the week or was it all in? Oh no, it was thrust completely upon me. I mean the hero came on and you played I'll see you again. If the villain came on it was deliddleum, did lidleum And of course one of the disadvantages was that the the pianist was so close to the screen that it was very difficult to see surely. Oh very difficult. You used to always know me, you know, uh going home because uh I used to have a crick in my neck. That's the fellow who works in the picture house.
George Chisholm
Oh no, he
Presenter
You played the organ for a while, too? I did dabble with the organ, yes. In the cinema? Yes, yes, a bit. But uh I was mainly sort of dedicated towards piano.
Presenter
Let's have your second record. What's that be? Well, this is a record of a a man whom I admire tremendously, uh virtuoso, the flute.
Presenter
None other than of course Mr. James Galway, he's playing the third movement from Sonata No. Four by Bach.
Presenter
James Galway playing the allegro from Bach's sonata number four.
Presenter
So you played the piano and organ in the cinema. You then took to the trumpet, I believe? I did, yes. My father had a trumpet actually which he had bought and lost uh interest in in about a week's time. And it was lying about the house and I took this trumpet out and I thought, Great and I I used to buy records. I bought records of Louis Armstrong. That was the first one that came to mind.
Presenter
And turned out to be the only one, of course. And I used to play along with the record, you know, just purely by ear. And uh I got into difficulties when it came to read a trumpet part which was pitched a tone away, you see, and I had to sight read this part and transpose down a tone. And I thought, well, this is a bit intricate, you know, so I thought, what what's the other brass instrument that's concert pitch? I know, trombone, bass clef. So I took up trombone. Who taught you to play the trombone? Well, I had some lessons from a a very well known solo trombone with the Scottish Cooperative Society band called Jimmy Chammers.
Presenter
in Glasgow. Mm. Had some lessons with him and then I just got a tutor after that and uh played. In a dance band? In a dance band, yes. I used to play piano in the dance band and he used to send me home for my trombone in the interval.
Presenter
And I used to put back and come back with the trombone and play in the dance band in Green's Playhouse of all places in Glasgow. Well that's a a very celebrated dance hall, isn't it? Oh yes, all all the dance orchestras used to come there, the Lewestones and the Ambroses and what have you. Does it still exist? It still exists but not as anything particular. I think it's hired out to, you know, to various functions. When did you decide to come to the big city in the south?
Presenter
About nineteen thirty six seven. What sort of welcome was there? Well, not much, because there was this uh sort of attitude that uh Scottish musicians had come down to pinch us Londoners' work, you see, and I used to answer this by agreeing with them in a broad Scottish accent and saying, Yes, that's the trouble, that these Scotch people coming down and pinching us Londoners' work.
Presenter
You you went back for a while, didn't you? I went back for a while because it didn't go so well at first, you know. I went back with my tail between my legs actually.
Presenter
And it was only after a while that I was persuaded to come back. Mhm. I joined a band called Teddy Joyce and his band. Oh, yes, yes. And do you remember Teddy Joyce? Do you remember Teddy Joyce, folks?
George Chisholm
Yes, I do, yes.
Presenter
I bet you don't. Um he came to London, he took me to London, he gave me ten shillings more than I was getting in Green's Playhouse. This was your first visit to London. This was my first visit. And I got to London to find that the band was what was commonly known as Resting.
George Chisholm
Yeah, that's
Presenter
In other words, there was no work. And uh that's when I had to nip back to Glasgow again.
Presenter
Let's have another record. We've got number three. Ah. Now this is a record uh of a man whom I had the honor and pleasure of of doing a concert with at the Fiscal Hall in the nineteen fifties, Satchmore Louis Armstrong. This is a record I love of him called Thanks a Million.
Presenter
Louis Armstrong and his orchestra thanks a million. Now the pre-war jazz scene in London, George, where did you play? Uh well I played uh down a club called the Nest Club. Mm-hmm. I'm sure it was written into every American musician's contract that when you get to London for your engagement you must visit the Nest. After the evening. After the evening performance uh wherever in the theatre.
George Chisholm
Yeah.
Presenter
And they used to always come down, and at one particular evening there was half of Jimmy Lansford's band, Benny Carter, Coleman Hawkins, and Fats Waller, all in
Presenter
and one evening. Not a bad cost. Tremendous. And uh they felt very good. They'd had a few drinks and they wanted to come on and have a blow. So they came on and we all got up to go off and Benny Carter said to me, No, not you, you stay on.
Presenter
So there was me with this terrible little white Glasgow face in amongst all these coloured faces playing. It was the greatest evening of my life. You toured with Benny Carter, did you? Yes, it was from there that Benny Carter said, uh well come and do three months with me in Schaveningen in Holland. And uh
Presenter
There I recorded with Benny and Coleman Hawkins. He was in London on a rather unlikely engagement to arrange for Henry Hall. That's right. That's right. Yes, it was unlikely, but it struck us in the same way because a very shy, retiring man like Henry and a sort of American jazz musician didn't sort of go together. But it did, it worked. It did, it worked. Oh, gosh, yes. There's a story that you interrupted your honeymoon because you had a chance to record at Thats Wallet. That's quite true.
George Chisholm
It did, it worked.
Presenter
My case comes up next week. No, I did in fact. Uh we we made some records at EMI and Abbey Road. And in contrast you'd sit in with Victor Sylvester for some strict tempo stuff. Yes. Well uh with Victor we we made some what they call jive records because at that time jive was coming into being and Victor, I suppose much against his better judgment, had to sort of acknowledge this in his dancing school, so we had to make records of jive in order to instruct the kids, you know, how to jive.
Presenter
And uh we made these chive records for Victor. You had a long spell with Ambrose? Yes, I had two different spells, one in the Café de Paris.
Presenter
Uh one in the Mayfair Hotel. His must have been, I I suppose, the smoothest and most sophisticated orchestra. Oh, it was indeed. It was the envy of American musicians. You know, they used to look on this orchestra as absolute precision. It was tremendous. Beautiful arrangement. Very fine arrangement. Sid Phillips and Bert Barnes. There wasn't much jazz, of course.
Presenter
No, not not much jazz. It was rather comical because on the Saturday evening Ambrose would be broadcasting. He'd do an hour and a half broadcast as we did in those days, live. Yes. And the brass would have to open up. You see, take the mutes out. And Ambrose used to put a big placard at the side of the orchestra apologising to the diners. Please bear with us. The band will be a little louder than most because we're broadcasting. But it'll soon be over. Ordinarily very quiet and discreet. So it shouldn't interfere with conversation. That's right.
George Chisholm
Oh yeah.
Presenter
You were making records.
Presenter
Aside from that, with small jazz groups? Yes, I I did some under my own name. I did some with Danny Polo, who was the other one. That's right. Uh who was with Ambrose at that time. And he and Tommy McQuaiton and I, plus a few others, made some records. And then following on, I made some records under my own name.
George Chisholm
Yeah, so with the parallel text.
George Chisholm
Then talk.
Presenter
George Chisholm and the Jive Five, would you believe?
Presenter
And then of course the war came. And then the war came and we actually volunteered, not because we were brave, but six of us volunteered from the Mayfair Hotel, from Ambrose's Orchestra. People like Tommy McQuatta, Andy McDevitt and Jock Cummings. And we volunteered and we formed the nucleus of what was later to be called the Squadronaires. Now before we talk about the career of the Squadronaires, let's have another record.
Presenter
When I was playing piano I listened to this man and I thought, My goodness, I'm going to cut my fingers off. This man is tremendous. It's of course Art Teatum, and here he's playing Elegy by Massany.
Presenter
The octatum version of Massenet's Elegy.
Presenter
So the war started, six of you altogether into the REF.
Presenter
I suppose the usual square bashing for a bit. Oh yes, we were the lowest of the low actually. We were AC Two s. Mm-hmm. And you can't get any lower than that. Now the Squadronaires was originally the RAF Dance Orchestra. Yes, there was a rather bone of contention there between the Air Council and the uh people at Uxbridge where we were stationed. We liked to be called the Squadronaires but they weren't gonna have that. It had to be called His Majesty's Royal Air Force Dance Orchestra by permission of the Air Council.
George Chisholm
Yeah.
Presenter
That was rather a lot to get on the bills. It was, yes. There was a lot of musical talent about in the RAF.
Presenter
Well, there was. Uh I mean, for instance, uh Dennis Brain was attached to the um central band of the RAF. Now, did the squadronnaires only play dance music? Did you have to play military music as well?
George Chisholm
Now did
Presenter
No, we were in a sort of a little bunch by ourselves. Every time we went to Oxby they said uh we were sort of a headache to them really because we were neither fish nor fowl. And they used to post us immediately we'd report there and post us away overseas again and get them out of the way. Where did you play? We played uh o in Europe mostly. We di we didn't go out to the Far East. We played uh in Belgium and um France and Holland. If I remember right, the squadronaires stayed together after the war. Yes, we did. I stayed with them in actual fact until about nineteen fifty.
Presenter
And then I left uh because of one night stands and things.
Presenter
And then you went into a a bigger band. Yes, that was the B B C Show band under Cyril Stapleton, mm-hmm, uh which was a marvelous band. It was a very expensive experiment. Why didn't it last?
Presenter
Well, it lasted five years, I suppose uh that's a fair distance. But um I don't know why it didn't last, because it was by far the best band
Presenter
On the air. And those were the happy days, of course, when even the most modest B B C comedy radio show had a full size band in it. Oh, yes, yes. Very lush, expensive noise. Yeah. Doesn't happen any more. Let's have another record. Well, this record is of a tune uh written by Fat Swaller.
Speaker 3
Ta-da!
George Chisholm
Yeah.
Presenter
with whom I had the pleasure of making some records many years ago. Marvelous man, uh comic, you know, a a real fun loving person.
Presenter
But underneath it all he was a tremendous jazz player.
Presenter
But he wasn't called fats for nothing. I mean this man was really fat.
Presenter
And there wasn't a piano stool anywhere that would fit fats.
Presenter
He used to overhang everywhere, you see. So when he came on, he used to make a joke about this. You know, he'd come on, sit down, look down and say, Is you all on fats?
George Chisholm
So
George Chisholm
Is you all on?
Presenter
Let's go! And off he went. Tremendous. Well, he composed this particular tune and um
Presenter
I had the honour to play it on this particular record and it's called Blue Turning Grey.
Presenter
Your own version of the Fat Swallow tune Blue Turning Grey Over You.
Presenter
Now George, after the show band packed up, you played for a while with your own little group. Yes, that's right. We we did sort of one-night things, the old one-night thing, and uh of course I I do several broadcasts with a group which we choose to call the Gentlemen of Jazz. We haven't yet touched on the comedy bit. Who discovered that you were a natural comedian? Ah well this happened actually in the in the days of the Squadronaires. You know I was the A. C. Plonk, the fellow who sat on the end, taking the Mickey out the sergeant, Sergeant Jimmy Miller in front. Oh that went down well actually. Well that went down. Well I mean as a piece of cake you know.
George Chisholm
Cheers.
George Chisholm
Well that my dog
Presenter
And it rather snowballed from there throughout the Squadronares era into the show band when I I got tied up with a black and white minstrel show for several series uh together with the Goon Show. Yes, you were started in the band on the Goon Show, didn't you? I did, in in Wally Stott's band, in The Goon Show, and Spike suddenly realized there was a kindred spirit there and he wrote me a few lines.
George Chisholm
Yeah.
Presenter
And it rather snowballed a bit from there and uh
Presenter
In fact, the comic part rather tended at one point to take over, you know, because I suppose more people want to laugh than listen. You used to do monologues, did you write them? Yes, I used to write all my own stuff. Now, the the Black and White Minstrels, yeah, that was really a comedy performance more than a musical performance, wasn't it? Oh, it was, yes, it's definitely comic. At least that was how we set it out to be.
George Chisholm
Oh it
George Chisholm
We said that ought to be.
Presenter
And you were with them at the Victoria Palace? Indeed, yes. Yes. It's an open secret that the black and white minstrels are singing along to a a pre-recorded tape. Ah, yes. Did you do that too? No, my my spot was live. I I was uh very, very fortunate there. In fact, I considered that I was fortunate because you can imagine this company of about fifty people all on stage there miming to this huge tape machine at the side, which was covered by another tape machine in case it should break down. So you couldn't blame the fellas for getting rather complacent. You know, they'd be walking up and down stage going and thinking at the same time, I wonder what the wife's got for dinner. Tomorrow's Sunday, yeah, it's a great day off, and all that. You see, and thinking that everything was going well. And one night the impossible happened. Both tape machines broke down.
Presenter
And there was fifty people on stage suddenly, like a petrified forest, you know, and then it was like shunting trains, you know, and that voice from the back, a third tenor who always tries to save the show, shouted in a strangled voice, My money in the wrong place, all wrong, you see. And then suddenly the tape picks up in a different place. And there's a bit of a shuffle goes on, and in the back in again, into the stride again, another month of going over what the wife's got for dinner. I love to have been there. Oh, I felt about it. It was great.
Speaker 3
Uh
George Chisholm
Or
Presenter
Uh now, among your comedy routines was a marvellous drunk act. You used to do that around town, I know, I mean, just for fun, and it once lost you a very good job, I believe. It did indeed. Uh it was with a band leader uh in those days called Lou Stone and I was doing a broadcast as an extra in his band, I was augmenting his band.
Presenter
And the other trombone player said to me on the way in, we'd been to the pubs, you know, we came out, and there was only about three minutes to go before we were on the air, and it was live nine o'clock.
Presenter
And Lou's there, of course, going through his notes to you know where to bring the orchestra in and what to do here and what to do there and fine. And the other trombone player said to me, Pull the drunk thing on Loo, you see.
Presenter
And uh I did I did the full drunk, you know. I went up to Lou and I caught his lapels and I slid down s apologising. Sorry, Lulu, sorry, Lou Lou And he was horrified, absolutely horrified, and he never booked me again. I lost work. Too good an actor.
Speaker 3
Yeah.
Presenter
Back to music. What next? Well, next is uh probably just about my favorite trumpet player, coupled with my favorite trombone player on this particular record. It's Bobby Hackett and Jack T. Garden, and they're playing I Guess I'll Have to Change My Plan.
Presenter
I guess I'll have to change my plan, featuring Bobby Hackett on Cornet and Jack Teagarden.
Speaker 2
On trombet
Presenter
Now, the pattern today, George, you're still hard at it. You played in the United States recently. Yes, I I was uh very fortunate to be invited over to uh a thing called the Gibson Party, which is a man called Gibson over there who throws a seminar every year for me. He loves musicians, particularly trombone players, and uh he invited me over as a sort of representative from Britain, and I got to meet wonderful people like uh Carl Fontana, Irby Green, um or Vic Dickinson and uh Clark Terry and uh Stan Goetz and most of the guys, you name them. Yes. It was a wonderful experience. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. You know, I went there and I I just felt in my element. It was tremendous.
Presenter
And you're on the road a lot in this country with good trad jazz band groups? Yes, I am. I in particular I'm on the road with a a sort of package group which features the music of Louis Armstrong and Fat Swallow. Hefty Jazz. Hefty Jazz with Keith Smith. It's very, very well received too. I'm delighted to say that the the upsurge of jazz, particularly in the provinces, is is remarkable. Oh there's there's a great jazz revival. I was looking at a a sort of leaflet programme listing all the jazz groups that are available in in pubs and clubs about the country and it's it's a very impressive list indeed. Yes.
George Chisholm
Um
Presenter
Now you're going to start your own club up north? Yes, I'm involved in the opening of a club in Manchester. Roughly about May we'll be opening to be called the George Chisholm Jazz Room. Mhm. Be it on their own heads.
Presenter
We aim to sort of provide the best in British jazz and American jazz and of course food. And you'll be playing there some of the time? Well, I'll be doing most weeks uh as host come performer and uh I'm looking forward to it eventually. That's a new departure for you. You've done pretty well everything else in the music scene.
Speaker 3
Thankfully.
Presenter
Uh
Speaker 3
Hmm.
Presenter
We got to record number seven. This is of a man whom I I first met in the RAF and became very friendly with, a wonderful horn player called Dennis Brain. I'd like to remember him in this particular piece of music. It's the third movement of the Mozart Horn Concerto, number two.
Speaker 3
Tabana, Tabana, Tabana, Taba, Tappa, Taba, Boba, Taba, Taba, Taba, Tabo, Taba, Popana.
Presenter
Dennis Brain as soloist in The Rondo, the third movement of the Mozart Horn Concerto, No. two, in E flat major, the Philharmonia Orchestra conducted by Walter Suskind.
Presenter
Dennis, of course, was a a great jazz enthusiast. Did he sit in sometimes with you? Oh, yes. It was the done thing for Dennis to pop his head round the corner when we were rehearsing at Oxbridge and ask to sit in. And I I used to write him jazz choruses and he used to sit in between the two trombones and play these jazz choruses. Tremendous.
Presenter
How well could you manage on a desert island getting back to the basic problem? Could you look after yourself? I think so, yes. I think I think I'd be able to uh ferret out something in the way of uh roots or something to eat or something.
Presenter
Yes, but only in a very small way. But I I think I'd catch the odd boot.
George Chisholm
Uh
Presenter
I'm sure I wouldn't have. Well, I remember Charlie Chapman used to eat shoes. I think I can get away with boots. Useful at light jobs about the house, are you?
Speaker 3
Yeah.
George Chisholm
I think I
Presenter
I'm reasonably good at uh do it yourself. Well, put it this way, I use more nails and wood than anybody else in the world.
Presenter
How much of a seaman are you? Would you try to escape? Not escape. I don't think I'd like to escape. I might like to be picked up some day. But not escape from anything. You're quite content to stay there for a bit. I think I'd like it, yes. I'm sure I would.
Presenter
Right, off on your holidays. What's your last record?
George Chisholm
Two box break
Presenter
The last record is of a trombone player, an American trombone player who's an absolute virtuoso.
Presenter
whom I met on that party at the Gibson party thing. He is uh performing in this particular tune the Burt Bacharach tune called The Look of Love. And who is it? It's Irbie Green.
Presenter
The Look of Love, Irby Green, with twenty other trombonists.
Presenter
If you could take only one disk, which would it be?
Presenter
Difficult. Mm.
Presenter
Probably the Bobby Hackett Jack Tea Garden one. Right.
Presenter
and one luxury to take to the island with you.
Presenter
Lots of bitter lemon, I think.
Presenter
Yes. Yes. All right. And a nicely engraved glass, too. Or very nicely, yes, engraved glass.
Presenter
And one book, you have the Bible and Shakespeare as standard equipment.
Presenter
Either uh several volumes of uh PG Wardhouse or uh some Spike Milligan ravings, I think. All right, we'll we'll bind two or three of them together for you. Oh, that's nice. And thank you, George Chisholm, for letting us hear your Desert Island discs. Pleasure, Roy. Goodbye, everyone.
George Chisholm
You've been listening to a podcast from the Desert Island Discs archive. For more podcasts, please visit bbc.co.uk slash radio four.
What sort of welcome was there [when you arrived in London]?
Well, not much, because there was this uh sort of attitude that uh Scottish musicians had come down to pinch us Londoners' work, you see, and I used to answer this by agreeing with them in a broad Scottish accent and saying, Yes, that's the trouble, that these Scotch people coming down and pinching us Londoners' work.
Presenter asks
Who discovered that you were a natural comedian?
Ah well this happened actually in the in the days of the Squadronaires. You know I was the A. C. Plonk, the fellow who sat on the end, taking the Mickey out the sergeant, Sergeant Jimmy Miller in front.
Presenter asks
Could you look after yourself [on a desert island]?
I think so, yes. I think I think I'd be able to uh ferret out something in the way of uh roots or something to eat or something. Yes, but only in a very small way. But I I think I'd catch the odd boot. … I remember Charlie Chapman used to eat shoes. I think I can get away with boots.
“I started off, would you believe, playing piano in Silent Films in a cinema in Glasgow.”
“So there was me with this terrible little white Glasgow face in amongst all these coloured faces playing. It was the greatest evening of my life.”
“I'm reasonably good at uh do it yourself. Well, put it this way, I use more nails and wood than anybody else in the world.”