Episode Four..Craigtoun Calling

That was the message on the back of the T-shirts for the ill fated (well financially anyway) Fife Aid Festival of 1988. The idea was to raise money and awareness of touchy feely green issues by gathering together a big load of energy wasting sound and light equipment and running it all for the best part of two days. Add in a load of cars, vans and gas guzzling trucks and there was no doubt that we could save the planet..maaaaan.

Big George and The Business were invited, via the Pictish Embassy, to perform on one of the secondary stages and we reached the park on the outside of St Andrew’s without undue hassle. Mother Nature, ungrateful biatch that she was, had other ideas though. Performances had been stopped on Stage B due to large concentration of water gathered in the tarpaulin directly above the above the monitor desk. It looked like it was going to burst any second, and a team of stagehands were trying to coax it off the front of the stage with long brushes.

Eventually the all clear was given, the gear was set up and George and co began the set. I had been instructed to go out front for a bit to check out the sound, and to prod the engineer if necessary. All was fine, so I stood for a bit marvelling at the antics of the mud sliding maniacs in the crowd. I was then asked by a fella in a suit ( A suit? In this weather?) who the guy playing guitar was. “That’s Big George” says I. “He’s bloody good eh?” replied the suit. “Sure is” I agreed.

I never thought any more about it….

After the well received performance, we all proceeded to enter the festival spirit and head for the Main Stage. Jack Bruce was great, Runrig were Runrig and (though no one knew this at the time) Marillion were doing their last show with Fish.

After a night in the van listening to more rain, we emerged to the news that the organisers wanted us to hang around, as they needed a stand by band for Day 2. There were rumours that John Martyn may not be showing up to do his slot between Rick Wakeman and Van Morrison. A good few hours of hanging about ensued. I wandered for a while and saw sets by Steve Hackett, Davy Spillane, and Phil Manzanera and his all star band. “That looks like Scott Gorham of Lizzy,” I thought at one point, and on moving closer to the stage it was!

Eventually band, crew and hangers on were ushered to the back stage area to set up in case we had to take the stage in a hurry. Alas it was not to be as a car rolled up, and John Martyn rolled out. We were consoled with a bottle if whisky and loitered in the stage side tent for a while. I spotted Mr Fish outside, and I asked him in for a drink. He politely declined as he was off to see John Martyn play.

After a while we decided to head out front to watch Van Morrison close the show, which he did in classic fashion with a pick up band that he had only met a few days before.

After the last notes, George and I found ourselves backstage and this is when it got weird. I was approached yet again by that same man in the suit. “Big George?” he said “I’d like to introduce…”

“You don’t need to introduce him!” said George “Awright Fish? How ya doin?” A brief meeting of kindred spirits ensued, until Fish remarked that the wife was giving him the “we’re leaving” look.

We left for home knackered but happy.

Epilogue

Just after the Fife Aid show, an article in The List reported that George had been asked to join Fish’s solo band. No one knew where this had come from.

We crossed paths again on a few occasions, BGB supported him on a warm up tour in 1992 and George played guitar on an unsuccessful World Cup song featuring Fish on vocals. This led to the guys playing at his 40^th birthday party, memories of which are dim but I’m sure there was an encounter with Tony Hadley at one point.

“I know you” says George “You’re a singer, right?”

Foghorn Tony replies, “That’s right”

“Hawd on, I’ve got it.” Says George “Deep Purple?!!”

The answer was unclear…