A rare example of the now sadly all but extinct Bluebaws genre. This grew out of the influence of classic sack-style Missouri blues on the “bawboys” youth subculture prevalent in working-class Glasgow at the time. A lot of these “Bluebawers” wrote songs that combined rural themes from traditional songs like “(Baby Dont Want my) Chicken Skin Sack” with the industrialized urban experience (such as “Soot Stains on Me Bawbag”). Reminds me of “The Ol’ Hydrocele Blues” which I actually heard live in a shack years ago, performed by the great Duncan Creamer.
You've obviously read the sleeve notes on the "Bluebaws In The Snaw" compilation LP. I regard it as the definitive guide to the genre. Sad that the record company excluded Wee Boaby from the album (the official story was that his excessive and olid flatulence was offputting to the other artists forced to share a confined studio with him but, unsurprisingly, there are rumours of hostility and vengeful interference from "Fiddlin" Farquharson, whose dark story is well documented elsewhere. I'm totally jealous that you saw Creamer. Did he do the thing with the horse? Amazing balance, but probably neither healthy nor legal these days.
When I saw him he was getting on in years and no longer as balletic or elastic as he had been. Hard living took a toll on him, not to mention that regrettable bout of priapic fever. Fortunately the horse was experienced and made up for Creamer’s somewhat torpid performance.
Och aye, this is the real deal! I had the rare pleasure of catching Wee Boaby Jizzum live at the Stagger Inn back in the early '60s, tearing it up with his unmistakable blend of bawbag blues. His voice could peel paint off the walls, and his guitar work? Pure genius, as if he had the spirit of a Scottish moor and the Mississippi Delta coursing through his veins. His legendary tunes weren't just musical-they were full-blown tales of life, woven with the raw, unfiltered threads of Fendoch's gritty streets and a hefty dose of cheeky jizzum jazz. Remember the night when "Fiddlin" Farquharson’s fiddle met Boaby’s bawbag blues in a duel that left the crowd in stitches? Pure magic! Some say it's all tales and tall drinks, but us old-timers know the truth of Boaby’s shleg-slapping genius. So let the skeptics natter on about authenticity-those of us who were there know the real spirit of Scotland’s unsung Blues King. Let’s not let the legend of Boaby and his bawbag serenades fade into the murky drizzle of a Fendoch morning!
First of all, I have to commend your bravery for venturing into The Stagger Inn at that time. The pub's reputation for violence and sundry unsavoury activities was widespread. In his 2023 photo essay, "Solo Supping: Unattached Drinking In A Scottish Pub" (Kindle Edition available for £2.50 from Amazon), Gerry Clark speaks with some of the locals of The Liquid Library (as The Stagger Inn is now called). One of them, Kenny, observes that it was, "...a bit stabby in the past...". By all accounts this is a massive understatement. Your memory of the Farquharson/Jizzum dual that "...left the crowd in stitches", was, for many of them, quite literal. Hopefully you escaped unscathed?
@@yobkulcha You nailed it with Gerry Clark's "Solo Supping"-captures the spirit of The Stagger Inn perfectly, which was indeed more than just "a bit stabby"! That night Farquharson and Jizzum went head-to-head is still talked about. Big Tam, the barman with his own stories to tell, would chuckle that the bawbag blues were as scrotal and soulful as the legends said, swinging as pendulously as anything beneath a kilt on a windy day at the Highland games. The energy was electric, the crowd was a mix of the rugged and the rhythmic, and the music had a raw, unfiltered edge. My stitches? From laughter, thankfully. Those nights were a gamble, but the memories are priceless. Here's to the legends of those raw bawbag-strumming evenings! Cheers to keeping those stories alive!
I like this young man. He obviously grew up in an area where he was intrigued and captivated by this type of music. This reenforces the premise that skin color has nothing to do with how the deep, internal depths of the soul and it's outward projection when released can vary. Color of the skin is the least to consider when we are discovering others and who they are. We tend to put stereotypes and labels and claims based entirely on skin color and/or ethnicity where groups are separated from each other and we call it our culture. We then make that culture our total focus and identity and boast proudly of it's superiority over all others. Culture has now, today, been placed high on a pedestal for self-worship replacing even the God who created everything.
Skin colour was indeed a big concern. According to Wee Boaby's drinking partner and unofficial biographer, Margaret Doddery (or "Shoogly Peg" as she was better known), Boaby was very wary of exposing himself to direct sunlight. Like most people from the west of Scotland, his natural skin colour was so white it was almost a pale, translucent blue. Mere seconds of solar exposure could turn him lobster-pink, and if he was ever foolish (or drunk) enough to sunbathe for a minute or more then he would have to be wheeled in a barrow to Alloway Cottage on Murdoch's Loan, which was the nearest Burns unit. As a child, his thin, white body and shock of ginger hair earned him the nickname "Match", although this didn't stick.
This is an outstanding find…and on vinyl no less!! Very few people know he was the influence behind such greats as Blue Baw Broonsie and One Slung Low. Fantastic guitar work.
Broonsie is still cutting about. He drinks in the Liquid Library (formerly the Stagger Inn) in Fendoch. He says, "I don't play any more, but then again, I don't play any less." Legend.
true story; in high school i told my girlfriend i'd treat her to a steak dinner at the fanciest place in town provided she make reservations under the name Jizzum. needless to say, the gorgeous young hostess was none too happy about having to announce to a crowded dinner crowd: "Jizzum, party of two." the price of that dinner against the bitchy look on the hostesses face while we couldn't help but giggle being led to our table, that along with the 30+ years of laughter recounting this story ever since; worth it!
Haha, good story. Wee Boaby's real name was, of course, Robert Chisholm. According to his unofficial biographer, Margaret "Shoogly Peg" Doddery, he only changed it because he was, "a gallus wee fud wi' a gammy heid fae aw that bevvy".
There are stories of a set he did whilst doing time at Barlinnie Prison for assaulting the swans at Fendoch Loch, but unfortunately no recordings have ever surfaced. The Campsie Courier of Feb 1953 reported that his improvised song, "Bar-L Boogie-Woogie", literally caused a riot, resulting in the loss of the prison warder's organ. It remains unclear whether this refers to a musical instrument or a body part.
I couldn't agree more. It should also be mandatory at every Scottish kickball contest at Hampden Park and the other kick/touchball events at Murrayfield. And at the daily opening of the Scottish Parliament.
Ma maw kent his maw fae the steamy. She telt ma maw that they had a wind up record player wi wan record and aw Boaby did was scratch his baws and wear the needle oot. His maw wis demented. Then, like a star out of the sky, a guitar fell aff the back ae a lorry into Boaby's hands, fur ance, he took his itchy hauns aff is baws and started scratchin that fur a change. His maw telt ma maw that wis the best day of her life, it got Boaby oot the hoose during opening hours at the Stagger Inn. The punters used to ask Boaby to play some ither tune. He jist said 'whit fur, this is the best tune there is'.
Much of the folk music of the U.S. was imported from, and highly influenced by, the Scottish and Irish diaspora. The pentatonic scales of this traditional music mingled easily with the field hollers of early African American music. Traditional Scottish crofter cries of "Hawyooyerteezoot" and "Gettayyabaam" could often be heard among the call and response precursors to spiritual and gospel music, while the string and wind instruments allowed to Muslim Sahelian slaves lent themselves to an easy merging of styles with the Scottish fiddles and pipes. After evolving in the USA melting-pot, this music was eventually re-exported to the world as the Blues and its many variations. Wee Boaby often declared that he wasn't stealing from the blues tradition, he was just "borrowing it back".
Unfortunately, there is very little memorabilia remaining following the infamous "Great Balls of Fire" incident. What little is left has been hoarded and is now jealously guarded by the MacGillycuddy Estate. Indeed, the photo used above was only recently released after the new owners of the Stagger Inn (now The Liquid Library) in Fendoch suggested that certain other documents might be publicly released if some compromises were not made. The MacGillycuddy family quickly, but reluctantly agreed. We can only surmise what treasures remain to be uncovered.
Sad thing about Master Jizzum is, in his final days, he just went nutz. A pity, really. Given his notoriously bawsterous style, not many people would have suspected this, but there were some things that he just kept bottled up inside. But hey - let’s all raise a glass for Jizzum!
There's no direct evidence to suggest that Wee Boaby and Paolo are related. Most of the rumours surfaced in 2006 following the Big Weekend in Dundee, but all have been strenuously denied.
@@Christopher_Rush One of the secrets of Jizzum's innovative guitar style was the extra digit on his left hand and the lack of an opposable thumb on his right. These physical abnormalities contributed to the uniqueness of his musical endeavours. His "multi-appendage" approach to piano playing earned him a fanatical local following, several jail sentences, and, legend has it, inspired Jerry Lee Lewis. It's a little known fact that Lewis's hit, "Great Balls of Fire" directly referenced a spectacularly drunken duet performance of "Biggy Baggy Bawbag" by Jizzum and an unknown accomplice in 1956 which almost ended in tragedy and a wheelbarrow run to the Alloway Cottage Burns unit.
@@yobkulcha The duet with Frank "Two Nose" Buggins was legendary. Buggins could blast out a four part harmony on the kazoo. It was too much of a reach to perform the five part harmony, and in the end that was what killed him. Undeterred, his son Johnny "Blow Blow" Buggins (similarly nasally blessed) performed the elusive five part harmony on the Ed Sullivan Show. He also mastered the six part harmony, but that was not suitable for television audiences.
Artificial intelligence will never be able to produce authentic folk music like this!
A rare example of the now sadly all but extinct Bluebaws genre. This grew out of the influence of classic sack-style Missouri blues on the “bawboys” youth subculture prevalent in working-class Glasgow at the time. A lot of these “Bluebawers” wrote songs that combined rural themes from traditional songs like “(Baby Dont Want my) Chicken Skin Sack” with the industrialized urban experience (such as “Soot Stains on Me Bawbag”). Reminds me of “The Ol’ Hydrocele Blues” which I actually heard live in a shack years ago, performed by the great Duncan Creamer.
You've obviously read the sleeve notes on the "Bluebaws In The Snaw" compilation LP. I regard it as the definitive guide to the genre. Sad that the record company excluded Wee Boaby from the album (the official story was that his excessive and olid flatulence was offputting to the other artists forced to share a confined studio with him but, unsurprisingly, there are rumours of hostility and vengeful interference from "Fiddlin" Farquharson, whose dark story is well documented elsewhere.
I'm totally jealous that you saw Creamer. Did he do the thing with the horse? Amazing balance, but probably neither healthy nor legal these days.
When I saw him he was getting on in years and no longer as balletic or elastic as he had been. Hard living took a toll on him, not to mention that regrettable bout of priapic fever. Fortunately the horse was experienced and made up for Creamer’s somewhat torpid performance.
Och aye, this is the real deal! I had the rare pleasure of catching Wee Boaby Jizzum live at the Stagger Inn back in the early '60s, tearing it up with his unmistakable blend of bawbag blues. His voice could peel paint off the walls, and his guitar work? Pure genius, as if he had the spirit of a Scottish moor and the Mississippi Delta coursing through his veins. His legendary tunes weren't just musical-they were full-blown tales of life, woven with the raw, unfiltered threads of Fendoch's gritty streets and a hefty dose of cheeky jizzum jazz. Remember the night when "Fiddlin" Farquharson’s fiddle met Boaby’s bawbag blues in a duel that left the crowd in stitches? Pure magic! Some say it's all tales and tall drinks, but us old-timers know the truth of Boaby’s shleg-slapping genius. So let the skeptics natter on about authenticity-those of us who were there know the real spirit of Scotland’s unsung Blues King. Let’s not let the legend of Boaby and his bawbag serenades fade into the murky drizzle of a Fendoch morning!
First of all, I have to commend your bravery for venturing into The Stagger Inn at that time. The pub's reputation for violence and sundry unsavoury activities was widespread. In his 2023 photo essay, "Solo Supping: Unattached Drinking In A Scottish Pub" (Kindle Edition available for £2.50 from Amazon), Gerry Clark speaks with some of the locals of The Liquid Library (as The Stagger Inn is now called). One of them, Kenny, observes that it was, "...a bit stabby in the past...". By all accounts this is a massive understatement.
Your memory of the Farquharson/Jizzum dual that "...left the crowd in stitches", was, for many of them, quite literal. Hopefully you escaped unscathed?
@@yobkulcha You nailed it with Gerry Clark's "Solo Supping"-captures the spirit of The Stagger Inn perfectly, which was indeed more than just "a bit stabby"! That night Farquharson and Jizzum went head-to-head is still talked about. Big Tam, the barman with his own stories to tell, would chuckle that the bawbag blues were as scrotal and soulful as the legends said, swinging as pendulously as anything beneath a kilt on a windy day at the Highland games. The energy was electric, the crowd was a mix of the rugged and the rhythmic, and the music had a raw, unfiltered edge. My stitches? From laughter, thankfully. Those nights were a gamble, but the memories are priceless. Here's to the legends of those raw bawbag-strumming evenings! Cheers to keeping those stories alive!
I'm amazed by this. I have to be honest, I thought this was a wind - up...nothing surprises me anymore.
Man ,I couldn't interpret the lyrics at all.But what a find.Pure roots enjoyment.
I like this young man. He obviously grew up in an area where he was intrigued and captivated by this type of music. This reenforces the premise that skin color has nothing to do with how the deep, internal depths of the soul and it's outward projection when released can vary. Color of the skin is the least to consider when we are discovering others and who they are. We tend to put stereotypes and labels and claims based entirely on skin color and/or ethnicity where groups are separated from each other and we call it our culture. We then make that culture our total focus and identity and boast proudly of it's superiority over all others. Culture has now, today, been placed high on a pedestal for self-worship replacing even the God who created everything.
Skin colour was indeed a big concern. According to Wee Boaby's drinking partner and unofficial biographer, Margaret Doddery (or "Shoogly Peg" as she was better known), Boaby was very wary of exposing himself to direct sunlight. Like most people from the west of Scotland, his natural skin colour was so white it was almost a pale, translucent blue. Mere seconds of solar exposure could turn him lobster-pink, and if he was ever foolish (or drunk) enough to sunbathe for a minute or more then he would have to be wheeled in a barrow to Alloway Cottage on Murdoch's Loan, which was the nearest Burns unit. As a child, his thin, white body and shock of ginger hair earned him the nickname "Match", although this didn't stick.
@@yobkulcha Despite his alleged, sometimes 'Fiery' temper albeit.
as an englishman i approve this message
This is an outstanding find…and on vinyl no less!!
Very few people know he was the influence behind such greats as Blue Baw Broonsie and One Slung Low. Fantastic guitar work.
Broonsie is still cutting about. He drinks in the Liquid Library (formerly the Stagger Inn) in Fendoch. He says, "I don't play any more, but then again, I don't play any less." Legend.
Blues came up the Clyde, ain't no place left to hide...
Brilliant!
true story; in high school i told my girlfriend i'd treat her to a steak dinner at the fanciest place in town provided she make reservations under the name Jizzum. needless to say, the gorgeous young hostess was none too happy about having to announce to a crowded dinner crowd: "Jizzum, party of two." the price of that dinner against the bitchy look on the hostesses face while we couldn't help but giggle being led to our table, that along with the 30+ years of laughter recounting this story ever since; worth it!
Haha, good story. Wee Boaby's real name was, of course, Robert Chisholm. According to his unofficial biographer, Margaret "Shoogly Peg" Doddery, he only changed it because he was, "a gallus wee fud wi' a gammy heid fae aw that bevvy".
From the album “Jizzam donor blues”
There are stories of a set he did whilst doing time at Barlinnie Prison for assaulting the swans at Fendoch Loch, but unfortunately no recordings have ever surfaced. The Campsie Courier of Feb 1953 reported that his improvised song, "Bar-L Boogie-Woogie", literally caused a riot, resulting in the loss of the prison warder's organ. It remains unclear whether this refers to a musical instrument or a body part.
The Blues is everywhere.
Wow - classy!
Worth coming here for the comments!
This is a Scotsman's take on the Blues...most likely from Glasgow.
It's brilliant!
Great title and lyrics.
I Wee Wee'd me pants.
This needs a rendition at the next Old Firm Derby...
I couldn't agree more. It should also be mandatory at every Scottish kickball contest at Hampden Park and the other kick/touchball events at Murrayfield. And at the daily opening of the Scottish Parliament.
@@yobkulcha 😁😁😁🤣
Ma maw kent his maw fae the steamy. She telt ma maw that they had a wind up record player wi wan record and aw Boaby did was scratch his baws and wear the needle oot. His maw wis demented. Then, like a star out of the sky, a guitar fell aff the back ae a lorry into Boaby's hands, fur ance, he took his itchy hauns aff is baws and started scratchin that fur a change. His maw telt ma maw that wis the best day of her life, it got Boaby oot the hoose during opening hours at the Stagger Inn. The punters used to ask Boaby to play some ither tune. He jist said 'whit fur, this is the best tune there is'.
🎉
This fellow is from Scotland? Wow, that sounds like from the southern US.
Much of the folk music of the U.S. was imported from, and highly influenced by, the Scottish and Irish diaspora. The pentatonic scales of this traditional music mingled easily with the field hollers of early African American music. Traditional Scottish crofter cries of "Hawyooyerteezoot" and "Gettayyabaam" could often be heard among the call and response precursors to spiritual and gospel music, while the string and wind instruments allowed to Muslim Sahelian slaves lent themselves to an easy merging of styles with the Scottish fiddles and pipes. After evolving in the USA melting-pot, this music was eventually re-exported to the world as the Blues and its many variations. Wee Boaby often declared that he wasn't stealing from the blues tradition, he was just "borrowing it back".
You sure that ain't a retro'd pic of Conan O'Brian? (I'm messin' with ya...!) I'd like to see for vids of guy, based on the description of this tune.
Unfortunately, there is very little memorabilia remaining following the infamous "Great Balls of Fire" incident. What little is left has been hoarded and is now jealously guarded by the MacGillycuddy Estate. Indeed, the photo used above was only recently released after the new owners of the Stagger Inn (now The Liquid Library) in Fendoch suggested that certain other documents might be publicly released if some compromises were not made. The MacGillycuddy family quickly, but reluctantly agreed. We can only surmise what treasures remain to be uncovered.
Fuckin' Niiiiiiiiiiiiice
Oor Wullie Rools...
You got it :)
Interesting translation! I’ll never trust another UA-cam translation ever again lol
@@alanhunter1557 I see what you mean. I don't think Google Translate is delivering an authentic storytelling experience :)
Sad thing about Master Jizzum is, in his final days, he just went nutz. A pity, really. Given his notoriously bawsterous style, not many people would have suspected this, but there were some things that he just kept bottled up inside. But hey - let’s all raise a glass for Jizzum!
😂😂😂😂😂
Sounds like Paolo nutini defo
There's no direct evidence to suggest that Wee Boaby and Paolo are related. Most of the rumours surfaced in 2006 following the Big Weekend in Dundee, but all have been strenuously denied.
I think Taylor Swift should cover this.
I thought she already did? Could somebody have a word?
@@yobkulcha It just may have covered her. 😜
100% proof - if proof were needed - that Scotland did indeed invent the blues.
Jaysus you just caused me to piss meself laughing.
England's poor working class did the first form of them ole blues.
No...But indeed proof that Galic/Scottish folks have so much soul! So much soul indeed! 👍✌
No one invented the blues they came with the package.
@@maximuskhan2100 thats it
This is a laugh😂
Seems like a conspiracy that everyone's in on except me. One massive (but witty) piss-take.
This is ai, right?
In Scotland we spell it, "Aye right".
weirdly lacking in something - it's too regular with no mistakes - the image definitely looks like AI
@@Christopher_Rush One of the secrets of Jizzum's innovative guitar style was the extra digit on his left hand and the lack of an opposable thumb on his right. These physical abnormalities contributed to the uniqueness of his musical endeavours. His "multi-appendage" approach to piano playing earned him a fanatical local following, several jail sentences, and, legend has it, inspired Jerry Lee Lewis. It's a little known fact that Lewis's hit, "Great Balls of Fire" directly referenced a spectacularly drunken duet performance of "Biggy Baggy Bawbag" by Jizzum and an unknown accomplice in 1956 which almost ended in tragedy and a wheelbarrow run to the Alloway Cottage Burns unit.
@@yobkulcha 😅
@@yobkulcha The duet with Frank "Two Nose" Buggins was legendary. Buggins could blast out a four part harmony on the kazoo. It was too much of a reach to perform the five part harmony, and in the end that was what killed him. Undeterred, his son Johnny "Blow Blow" Buggins (similarly nasally blessed) performed the elusive five part harmony on the Ed Sullivan Show. He also mastered the six part harmony, but that was not suitable for television audiences.
this is fake, probably AI generated
If so, I feel better about AI.
Yep after a while it doesn't sound quite real. It's a pretty good tune nonetheless and ought to be done by a human somewhere.
Naaaaaaaah laddy - The dickens you say!