New Hellfire Club Glasgow takes on Knockengorroch World Ceilidh 2017, with a very unique approach to writing a review...a poem! Knockengorroch has always been a festival club favourite, but this year it truly did cement itself as Scotland's most awe inspiring party of the year! Hat's off to y'all at Knocky that make it such a wonderfully colourful experience.
(All opinions and views expressed by the artists are that of their own.)
A 20's something Glasgow lad
Who grew fair by the Clyde,
Awoke one morn' to discov'r
A fire doth burn inside.
With a scratch of his beard and a pull at his pants,
Out came the gunny sack, t’was his only chance.
To flee the city's smog, the breweries and their bouf,
He ventured off o'er burn and glen, in search for the forest of the South.
Now, the truest of Scotsman would normally say,
"You should never cast a cloot till the end of May",
B't this wee lad's the exception to the rule,
As he quite believes his Da' is an old Ayrshire fool!
Look Da, it's Knock and it's thirty degrees!
I've whipped out the shorts and the knobbly knees,
Can yeh see I've pitched my tent by the lass from Dumfries?
Says she's brought aw' the family, the dug and her niece.
He'd been told by an'ther, th't if he picked from the ground,
Within just an hour there'd be colour and sound.
So, he swallowed said advice and set off on foot,
His ear tuned to the Jackal's, Twistettes, Maxi Roots.
A dip in the river, a jump of the pond,
A whole weekend of bliss b’fore he'd have to abscond.
So, he grabbed a wee lass by the waist and the wrist,
And danced the world ceilidh whilst moderately pissed.
Unicorns parading, at least a thousand strong,
Through a field in a valley to their own woodland song.
Children in polka dot, Mothers in plaid,
Fathers in tartan, making fun is their trade.
Music and dancing, a fire lit kiss,
A people he loved, he'd most certainly miss.
Until that time comes again when the sun beats the rain,
Back to Knockengorroch, a memory unstained.
Written/Edited - David Spence. Photographs - Ailsa Duncan.