Friday Photo #67

In my mind, this series is a relatively recent, if not altogether regular, feature on the blog. Of course nothing has been particularly regular round these parts for some time, but you catch my drift. Anyway, imagine my horror to discover that the very first Friday Photo entry was way back in June 2021 - 3½ years ago! I set out my intentions in that very first post. 

'...a photo, probably taken on my phone while out walking, or maybe an oldie retrieved from the family archive, perhaps even an anonymous antique snapshot plucked from what remains of my collection of such ephemera. To accompany it, a tune, ideally one that's at least partially inspired by the image...'

Up to now, the majority of photos that I've shared have been drawn from the second category - the family archive. Unsurprising really, as it's a gift that keeps giving and there'll be more to come no doubt. Although I've dispatched hundreds of old anonymous photos that I picked up along the way, a few boxes still remain to be sifted through and/or scanned and shared - I hope to make some inroads in that direction over the coming weeks and months.

Here's an unknown drummer from the Royal Army Service Corps during WW2. He has a very modest kit, handy for moving in a hurry I would guess, though I wouldn't have wanted to be perched anywhere near that huge bass drum when it kicked in.

Jackie Mittoo - Drum Song

A Frail and Broken One

A few years ago, to add to my already excessive collection of anonymous photos, I purchased a couple of hundred antique glass negative plates. A selection of them were of particular local interest, which I sold quite quickly for a price that more than covered the cost of the whole lot. Since then, the remainder have sat on a shelf...waiting. Now as I pack my life into cardboard boxes in anticipation of an upcoming move, I have to find a way of safely transporting these ancient artefacts from here to there. They're frail, so I hope there'll be no broken ones at the other end. (Click on on any of these samples to enlarge the image).  

Bill Fay - A Frail and Broken One

Wedding Song

While one of my other blogs, Dear Diary 1952, drew to a natural conclusion at the end of December, over at Before the Streets Were Aired, my repository for old anonymous photos, things continue much the same as ever. 'Why do you get so obsessed with old photos?' I hear you ask. Here's a good example of why - an ancient photo album I picked up at a car boot sale, forgotten and unwanted. The first few pages are concerned with the marriage of a young couple. Here are two of my favourite shots from their wedding. I'd guess that we're talking the 1920's or early 1930's judging by the spats.

A splendid couple aren't they? The album continues with several photos of the bride and groom relaxing on a beach - their honeymoon perhaps? - before settling down to images from their day to day life as a young husband and wife. Inevitably, when looking through a collection of old photos, I wonder about what might have become of the people pictured. While looking through this particular album, a loose photo dropped out onto my lap and my question was instantly answered. It might be the loveliest one of the lot.

Whyte Horses - Wedding Song

Lost on the Hard Drive #3 - The Emeralds

There are many good things about the easy access to music that we enjoy today. I want it. I got it. Quick as that. I can order a physical album without leaving my keypad, I can stream entire catalogues in any number of ways, or I can purchase and download individual tunes or complete recorded works in seconds. The problem with the latter comes when a stray tune hits the hard drive, is played and enjoyed for a while, before being lost in an anonymous folder on my computer. Which happens a lot. In this occasional series I'll be scouring my D and G drives, unearthing half-forgotten gems along the way. 

The fashions, the curtains, the carpet, the radiogram, the goldfish tank - the castanets! Could this anonymous photo possibly be any more 1965? How I'd like to rifle through that little rack of 45s on the floor. What do we think the Decca single is at the front? I really hope it's not something by The Bachelors or Kenneth McKellar. It may be a long shot, but I'm putting half a crown on it being this.

(I'm heading out of town for a few days. Should be back in action on Wednesday.)

The Aliens

Two gentlemen on a small boat out at sea. Chatting, reminiscing on old times. Perhaps they served together in the Second World War. So what year would that make this photo? Late 1960s? Early 1970s? What if I were to tell you that these men, if they are indeed the age they appear, were probably too old to have served in the First World War and that the start of World War Two was still 13 months in the future? The photo is scanned from a glass slide dated August 1938. A timeless image isn't it? I picked up around 150 glass slides at a car-boot sale last week, all housed in 4 long wooden boxes. I've only gone through a quarter of them so far, but the quality of the best is outstanding. More to come, I'm sure.

Gordon Anderson (brother of Kenny, a.k.a. King Creosote) was a founding member of The Beta Band, writing the magnificent 'Dry the Rain' from their debut EP, among others. Anderson left The Beta Band in 1997 after a period of ill health, going on to produce a series of wonderfully adventurous releases under the Lone Pigeon moniker. Following The Beta Band's demise in 2004, Anderson reunited with two former members, John Maclean and Robin Jones, to become The Aliens, who issued two fine albums, before dropping off the map in 2009. 'Boats', originally a stripped down, solo Lone Pigeon tune, was re-recorded by The Aliens to glorious effect and issued on LP number two, 'Luna'.