‘Island’ Sleeve notes extracts, written by Colin MacIntyre

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This wasn’t meant to happen, until I realised it had.

Gordon MacLean, who runs An Tobar, the arts centre in my home town of Tobermory on the island of Mull, had asked me to come home and record for their 10th anniversary. The recording of The Water album took a while but I was still feeling quite fresh after it and keen to record again. There is some good symmetry in that An Tobar translates in Gaelic to ‘The Well’. The timing of Gordon’s request was good for me and got me thinking. We spoke about the recordings being stripped back. I started picking at the acoustic. Then while I was in America, in NY, and NE Florida, a lot of the songs were formed, lonesome, in various basements and gardens while logs piled up around me. The Atlantic Ocean rushed to the shore as I cycled alongside it, a reminder of what was on the other side. I had a child’s miniature guitar to write on that made the world grow annoyingly big. ‘No barriers’, I told myself, ‘it’s time to lay myself bare’.

When I stepped off the ferry back onto Mull - I’d left all the electricity plugs behind on the mainland - I could just as well have jumped off a cliff. On the first night of recording there was a Harvest Moon, which we took as a good sign. I was creating back home again; the last time would have been as a teenager in my bedroom just 200 yards up the road. An Tobar also houses what was the first classroom for me when I was 5 years old. That’s the room we were to record in. I remember that the wood panels in the room once seemed as high as the sky. The room is now also a venue, all wooden floorboards and remnants of pupils, teachers and ghosts-past. It felt odd at times to be recording back home, but good odd. Great odd. I’d never have thought that I’d actually become a professional musician and be back here, where the same wooden floorboards used to graze my knees and I’d peak under my teacher’s skirt.

It was a beautiful night that first one, with the sun setting over lumpy Mull. 10 full-on days, but every part of it was great fun. The songs were coming out as I’d hoped. It’s rare for me to record live in the studio with other musicians in this way and I knew then this was to be my next album. For the second session I arrived feeling shaky and vulnerable, but still a lot of work was done. But I was struggling. I looked out at the Atlantic Ocean roaring away and busied myself with string arrangements because my voice wasn’t doing much till late each night. I was lucky the Mendelssohn on Mull festival was on and suddenly a brilliant string section of one arrived, called Seonaid. But that trip was a tonic. I got involved in a music workshop with some of the local kids. I taught them ‘The Final Arrears’ and they'll keep playing it each week. Who knows where they'll take it. I could identify with the sight of the boys leaving to walk home with their electric guitars over their backs, the rain coming in sideways, with no cases to take the brunt.

During the last session, for the final night's recording, I put a notice up on the local Co-op (the scene of the 'Barcode Bypass' / ‘The Supermarket Strikes Back’ story) to invite fishermen, plumbers, pupils, teachers and whoever else in the local community wanted to come up and sing choir and foot-stomp on the last song. It was a special atmosphere in the room as the dust circled the dim light. Some of the songs feature my family members, including my uncle Donald, who was the first person I ever saw with a guitar, and being a plumber, reminded me of that absent sink.

I've never been so laid bare as a songwriter, and it’s felt right to be back home for it. I remembered where the blackboard used to be, so I sung in that direction, and the mixing desk, Gordon’s den, is now located where the old headmaster's room was. Some days we had to ask the local council workers if they'd pause their garden strimming because the mics were picking them up. They nodded in agreement.

I've loved recording the album, and it’s been special to use local musicians including Gordon & Sorren MacLean; sparks have flown, but somehow I’ve stuck entirely to acoustic instrumentation. My first album to do that. In some ways the album is an accident that's sprung out of pure instinct, and now I realize, necessity. I needed to make it, to go home, to go back to where I started. This is 'Island'. Belated Happy Birthday to An Tobar.

Gordon, I couldn’t have done it without you. If only all angels had sideburns.

Thanks:

I’d like to thank Gordon for his wisdom, passion, musicianship and friendship, also to Sorren McLean, Ross McFarlane, and all the other amazing players & singers listed above for making the trip both musical and geographical. Off the island, thanks to Mark Fraser for his enthusiasm and web design, Jo Burton for being inspiring to work with, Mark Howe, Jackie Da Costa & Marcus Skinner at EAI, Andy Prevezer, Alan Smith, Andy Hipkiss, Doug Hall & Adam Nicol at PPR, Tracie London-Rowell, Dot D’Souza & Nick Moxham at London Calling, Ursula and Mark at Pomona, Michelle O’Connor, Phil Hill, Joe, Stuart & all at Cargo Records, Calum Malcolm, Cammy Young, Andrew Burton, Fiona Shannon, Mick Pryde and all at MAD Crew, Douglas Keeley at PRS, Mark Ghuneim & all at Wired Set in New York, Dom Morley, David Gentle, Elias & Peggy Ghuneim, Steve Cheyne & all at Berkeley 2, Brendon Rowan, Joss Maines, Alan Malloy, Paul Kirsop, Balazs Bolygo, King Creosote, Donald Kirsop, Lisa Gottheil, Steve Ferguson, Kevin & Joan Mitchell for the Florida guitar loan, Penny Nagle, Irvine Welsh, Rupert Davies-Cooke and The Original Writers. On the island, thanks to the An Tobar staff: Jo Caskie, Lee Hendrick, Jane Wilde, Adrian Lear, Ester Nailen, Dawn Reade, for looking after us; Mary Kirsop (my Gran, for looking after me, and the scones/curry/soup provision), Alan Jack, Gill Govan, Andrea MacPhail, John Bright, Gordon Buchanan for the bird calls, and the Tobermory Co-op for use of their window. And to Pam, my Mum, family and friends, and my uncle Eric for talking of following dreams. And you, for listening.

Colin

April 09.

Class Primary 1; teacher: Mrs McNabb.