rob beattie – music
A Thousand Bars is my first ever recording of original songs, released at the ripe old age of 71. It took a while, but this collection is a good representation of the kind of songs I’ve been writing for over 55 years. I hope you enjoy listening to it. The album is available to stream on Spotify, Apple Music, Amazon Music and all other major digital services, but obviously I get little or nothing from them, so if you do enjoy it online, please consider buying the actual CD – it’s a great way supporting independent artists.
track listing
World Turned Upside Down (4:11)
Blue Rope (3:37)
A Thousand Bars (5:58)
Willie Mackintosh (4:31)
Moses Waits (3:33)
A Day Like Any Other (Birthday Song) (3:33)
Levelling Up (7:03)
Lantern Light (3:01)
£10.00
But I Don’t Have A CD Player
Well, if that’s the case and you’d still like to show your support, please consider downloading the tracks so that you own them forever. The digital download is the same price as the CD (minus postage) and the recordings are exactly the same quality, so you can import them into the player of your choice.
£8.00 – and all the tracks are yours to keep
About the songs
Unlike most people, I rather enjoyed lockdown. I got into cycling, my favourite hobby – angling – was allowed under the rules of social distancing, and once a week I was able to enjoy a virtual pint over Zoom with my pals Sam and Al. During one of our chats the idea came up to try and write a lockdown song and this is my effort. Lyrically it’s very literal – I was keen to use as much the vocabulary of the time as I could – but I still think it packs a gentle punch and it does take me back to those strange times, whenever I listen to it.
“So here we sit without a sound
The lights are on, the curtains drawn
We’re losing sleep and losing ground
In a world that just turned upside down…”
One of the most personal songs on the album. This is one of those ‘I know what this is about, but feel free to put your own interpretation on it’ songs. I say that because when I played it first to a good friend of mine who’s been a professional musician and songwriter his whole – long – life, what he heard was completely different from what I’d intended. And that’s fine by me. Just fine.
“I shone, you know
Grew old before my eyes
Never thought that I’d love anyone
Never meant to say goodbye.”
The title track and, after some humming and hahing, it really couldn’t be anything else, given how much I’ve loved pubs since those first sneaked pints in the Packhorse, Gerrards Cross, back in the 70s. This song features a number of made-up pubs (to get a satisfying rhyme) but many more actual pubs, especially in the middle eight. Here you’ll find a mix of other people’s favourite pubs (Dave Payne and the Corner House in Worthing, Fraser Nimmo and the ‘bonny’ Bankfoot Inn, as was) and some of my own. But pride of place – and four whole lines – goes to the Sussex Yeoman which was my local when I first moved to Brighton. This is a source of many happy memories but there’s sadness too – because so many of the friends I would meet there are no longer with us.
“And here’s the Sussex Yeoman
Her1 doors are open wide
A stone’s throw from the station
And all my friends inside…”
- Note: Some of you have noticed the apparent contradiction when describing the Sussex Yeoman as ‘she’. This is deliberate. I’ve always thought that pubs, like ships, are female. ↩︎
This was written using the Fruity Loops program as a kind of exercise. I’d heard and loved Jim Moray’s first album and wanted to try my hand at arranging a traditional lyric, but wasn’t sure where to start. This song – also sometimes called the Ballad of Auchendoon or the Burning of Auchendoon – was the first lyric I found that wasn’t 70 verses long and it became my sandbox to experiment with a few things. There’s no bass on this track at all and I still have no idea where the idea for the sonar came from, but in my head it just fits. The guitar solo at the end is very much modelled on Robert Fripp’s bagpipe-stylings that he used on the third King Crimson album, Lizard.
“Behead me or hang me, that shall never scare me
I’ll burn Auchendoon, before the life does leave me”
Moses was a waiter we met on a family holiday to Kenya and he became the inspiration for this song. It in no way tells the story of his life – I couldn’t possibly do that – but rather an attempt to reflect his stoicism in the face so many obstacles large and small. He was truly always waiting for something, yet bore it with a patience that was striking and wholly admirable.
“He waits for the union to organise
Waits for the owners to look in their eyes
Prays for the courage to compromise
And then he waits, Moses waits…”
The oldest song in the collection, this was written in the 70s for a girl I knew at university. It sprang to life courtesy of my trusty Yamaha FG-180 but is re-imagined here as a song for ukelele, cajon, double bass, acoustic guitar and clarinet. Although it feels like a genuine ensemble performance, much of the backing was automated using the Session Band Ukelele app on my phone. As my friend Maartin used to say: “I love this century!”
“The sunlight breaks upon the path now
The door is open in the hall
Only shake your head and laugh now
Everything comes when you call.”
My attempt to put into words my frustration, anger and ultimately, resignation about the way my homeland has drifted into sloganeering, demonising, dividing and scapegoating, in the main thanks to grifters who’ve managed to con the public into thinking they’re ‘one of us’ when they’re clearly ‘one of them’. It makes liberal use of two key mis-drections – ‘Levelling up’ and ‘Take back control’ and when I first played it to a good friend who’s been in the music business for 60 years and more he said that he heard it as more of an angry rant. For me, it’s more about the resignation of accepting where we’ve washed up and – perhaps – acknowledging the mistakes that got us here. (And ever since hearing In The Wake Of Poseidon I’ve wanted to write a song that referenced properly air, fire, earth and water…)
“Raise your half-empty cup, here’s to levelling up
No more life on the dole, since we took back control
Got up off our knees, to do as we please
Felt the sun on our face, we’re God’s chosen race”
A song about saying goodbye. A last-minute replacement for a different track, this was inspired by a photo I took of a little candle lantern hanging on a tree by the river Adur (it’s the one on the back of the CD cover). It didn’t give out enough light to be useful but it was comforting on a chilly winter’s afternoon as the darkness drew in. From there this song grew into more general meditation about saying goodbye – to a place, a partner, a child, a parent…
“Not so hard to say farewell
Take my leave and wish you well
Climb the stairs and at the top
Take a beat, before the drop.”