Of all the sad musical losses over the years, this was the hardest for me. It was on this day (16 December) in 2001, in a hotel room in Honolulu, that Stuart Adamson was found dead.
I'm not sure if I can overstate this: when I was a teenager, Stuart Adamson was my musical hero - guitar hero, singing hero, everything hero! I tried to dress like he did (like in the Big Country live video from NYC in 1986), I tried to grow my hair out a bit to look more like his (unsuccessfully) and I (also unsuccessfully) would have liked to play my guitar like him.
Even now, some thirty five years later, every time I see a Big Country video or listen to a song (like I did most of today), the hairs on my neck rise, my eyes mist slightly and that power and passion hit me hard. Every single time.
So, twenty one years on from his passing, here is some more on my hero...
In the beginning:
Adamson was born on 11 April 1958 in Manchester, to Scottish parents, and they were soon back home in Scotland - settling in Crossgates, just outside Dunfermline, by the time he was four.
In 1976, punk came to Fife and having seen The Damned live in Edinburgh, Adamson formed his first band, Tattoo, with his friend William Simpson. By the following year, Tattoo had become The Skids, with Adamson on guitar and Simpson on bass, soon recruiting a young Richard Jobson on vocals and Thomas Kellichan on drums. They played their first gig on 19 August 1977 at the Bellville Hotel in Dunfermline.
Here is something from fellow Scot Jim Kerr, written as part of his tribute to Adamson.
"It was a strange mixture and excitement and total envy that I felt as I stood entranced within a packed Dunfermline dancehall, witnessing a local act who then, undoubtedly, were destined, musically-speaking, to be the 'next big thing'. The band's name was The Skids.... [they] left me in a quandary as to whether I should be wilfully seduced into giving their wild, energetic and charismatic lead singer, my fullest attention... or rather follow the magnetism that was pulling me to the left hand corner of the stage that was inhabited by the handsome, air-kicking, lead guitarist that I later got to know as Stuart Adamson.... The abiding memory for me that night was the shatteringly powerful effect from the sound of Adamson's guitar and his skilful and inventive playing."
In early 78, they got a chance to release the Charles EP on No Bad records, which led to them getting the attention of legendary DJ John Peel and landing a support slot with The Clash. Things moved fast - in April of that year, they signed for Virgin - the singles Sweet Suburbia and the Wide Open EP (with lead track The Saints Are Coming) were out before the year end. 1979 had not long dawned when the anthemic Into The Valley hit number 10, followed by debut album Scared To Dance, which reached 19.
Working For The Yankee Dollar would graze the top 20, but the Days In Europa album faltered a little, only reaching number 39. 1980's long player, The Absolute Game got them back up the charts, hitting the heights of number 9. But by 1981, Jobson was becoming more of a creative force, along with new bandmate Russell Webb, and Adamson obviously thought there wasn't room for all of them.
Jobson remembered his friend as being someone very much not living the rock n roll lifestyle. "This was a guy who had a mortgage, a wife, and a family when we were all trying to live some mythic punk lifestyle. He seemed level-headed and grounded."
Into the big country:
Adamson didn't stay idle for long. He recruited another friend, Bruce Watson, to join him on his next adventure. Watson at that time was employed as a cleaner in the submarine yard at Rosyth Naval Base. Big Country were up and running, initially they were joined by the Wishart brothers (Pete would later join mystical Scots band Runrig, before becoming a SNP MP at Westminster) and Clive Parker, but that didn't last and they ended up being hooked up with a ready made rhythm section in Mark Brzezicki and Tony Butler.
They were brought in to just record the first single, Harvest Home, but they ended up staying. Having not had much luck working with Chris Thomas (who had famously produced The Sex Pistols), Steve Lillywhite came in and helped them make The Crossing (1983). He did a mighty fine job too, producing one of the most iconic debuts of the 1980s, eventually peaking at number 3 and breaking the US top 20. While Harvest Home hadn't troubled the charts, the next two singles did much better; Fields Of Fire hit the UK top 10 and just missed the US top 50; In A Big Country managed to peak at 17 in both UK and US.
Adamson explained his philosophy on The Crossing: "The music I felt wasn't like the music I had grown up hearing, or rather, not like any one of them. It was all of them jumbled up and drawn into something I could understand as mine. I found that I could play this music and connect the guitar directly to my heart."
Steeltown came the following year, with a different sound and slightly more politicised lyrics. It was generally quite well received by the critics, but didn't have quite the same impact. It did briefly hit the top of the UK charts, but struggled to make a mark on the US version. It did get them the opportunity to do support slots with both Queen and David Bowie in 84 and 85.
Booze, burnout and the seer:
Stuart Adamson was burning out in 1985. Already eight years in the music industry was taking its toll, in what would be the first signs of future troubles. He threatened to quit the band, but as manager Ian Grant noted, "booze exacerbated the burnout."
Luckily he didn't leave and instead Big Country roared back with third album, 1986's The Seer. If Steeltown had evoked the grime and poverty of the Scottish industrial heartlands, The Seer was back to mist shrouded glens and highland mystery. Look Away got them back in the top ten, while the album just missed out on top spot.
Peace In Our Time was a rather more obvious crack at re-breaking the American market, with lots of power chords and a lot less mysticism. It backfired somewhat, as ironically it didn't succeed at all in the US. It did, however, lead them to play some 'glasnost' concerts in East Berlin and Moscow (strangely with PiL).
The missing years?
The 1990s were something of a mixed bag for the band and for Adamson.
Brzezicki decided to leave the band in 1989 so that he could meet other commitments (although he ironically ended up playing on several recordings effectively as a session musician). A lot of the music the band produced through this period didn't always land with the critics or the fans - a notable exception being 1993's The Buffalo Skinners. Adam Sweeting wrote in The Guardian that it showed that "Big Country still write strident rock anthems with a tartan twist, and reflect on love, greed and blue-collar angst." The album spawned two more top 30 singles in Ships and Alone.
In 2000 the band embarked on their Final Fling, culminating on 31 May at their spiritual home of the Barrowlands in Glasgow. After that, they played one more (disastrous) gig in Malaysia in October. It would end up being their last.
From Nashville to Honolulu:
Adamson had been married to Sandra since the early 1980s. He had two children, Callum born in 1982 and Kirsten in 1985. But in 1996 his relationship with Sandra was over and they split, which is when he decided to move to Nashville. Everyone, including Ian Grant, thought it would be good for him, give him space and time, but it also meant his friends and family weren't close by to keep an eye on him.
He teamed up with Marcus Hummon and eventually formed an alt-country band, The Raphaels, who would have one album, Supernatural, which came out in May 2001, around the same time as the last few gigs they would end up playing.
In 1999, Adamson married Melanie Shelley. Maybe things would be okay. He had been sober for a decade or more - he had the new band to focus on. But old friend Mike Peters (The Alarm) realised around that time that things were not right for Stuart. "I never saw him drinking until one night in Germany when he started drinking in public again and everyone was like, 'Whoa!' He fell down some stairs and cut his face before a show and struggled his way through the gig. That was the first time I'd seen anything...."
Bruce Watson only spoke to his best friend a handful of times between late 2000 and late 2001, but said, "I could still tell he was still in hell." But when Steve Lillywhite spoke to Adamson in the autumn on 2001, he sounded different, telling him, "Steve, I've worked it out, I really can't drink, I mustn't drink, I'm happy now not drinking."
But as 2001 went on, Shelley gave notice that she was done, he was up on a drink-drive charge and had been made to sign up with Alcoholics Anonymous. It was clearly all to much for him. He was officially declared missing on 26 November, the day that Melanie filed for divorce. Ian Grant had become so worried about Adamson that he hired a private detective to try and find him. "He drank solidly for eight weeks in hotels and every time we found out where he was, he'd just checked out for another one."
He finally checked into the Best Western Plaza hotel in Honolulu on 4 December, ordering three bottles of wine from room service every day. He never left his room. He was found dead on 16 December.
His body was flown back to Scotland (courtesy of Richard Branson) and a memorial was held on 27 December at Carnegie Hall in Dunfermline. May 2002 saw a tribute concert at the Barrowlands that included a reformed Skids, the remaining Big Country members, Steve Harley, Runrig and his two children.
A legacy:
The Edge cites Adamson as being a huge influence on early U2. John Peel had called him "a new Jimi Hendrix." Noel Gallagher was a massive fanboy, admitting to Butler and Brzezicki at an event in the 90s that they played Big Country loudly on the Oasis tour bus. The Manic Street Preachers were also big fans, James Dean Bradfield wrote the foreword to the Adamson biography, In A Big Country by Allan Glen, and they were happy to admit that their song Motown Junk ripped off his guitar playing. (Rebus author, Ian Rankin, also wrote the introduction to the book).
Paul Weller was hugely respectful of Adamson and his talent, and his work in the Skids had caught Weller's attention so much so, that he hand picked a brand new Big Country and to be a support act for The Jam on their final tour. When Jim Kerr visited Bruce Springsteen's house in the late 80s, The Boss played In A Big Country several times and remarked, "this was a great song and whoever wrote it was obviously the real deal."
We'll go back to The Edge to sum up Adamson:
"Stuart made some great music during his career, and his character came through everything he did.... He had a heart as big as a mountain and he was a real romantic soul... He will be missed by all who loved his music and even more by those lucky enough to know him personally."
On the tributes page next to the BBC article following his death, there were many heartfelt messages - but reading them again, a few caught my eye. The last of these is especially moving for non-musical reasons.
"Big Country were my band. After a gig at the Town & Country in Leeds I went out and bought a guitar. Stuart was the most talented and influential artist in my life." (Mat - Yorkshire)
"People always used to tell me that Big Country weren't cool, weren't outrageous or controversial. No they weren't, they were just honest. Gimmicks get tired after a while, good songs don't." (Adrian - Lincoln)
"I met Stuart three months ago while we were both trying to get control of our problem. I knew nothing of his music but all of his character. We became close as we both understood what we each were going through. We were together virtually everyday. I had to leave town for a few weeks and when I got back he was missing. He was there for me as I was dealing with what I was going through. If I was having a problem he would be at my house in a flash. He helped me and I couldn't help him. He was the strength I needed and the voice of wisdom, someone to lean on when I was weak. I wish he had given me the opportunity to return the favour. I don't understand how this happened. I thank God for giving me the time with Stuart he did. I will never forget the thoughts he shared with me. I love him like a brother and will mis him. Thank you Stuart for everything. Goodbye." (A.M. - USA)
I have been fortunate to see and hear many great bands over the years, but I'm not sure that any other has had quite the same visceral impact on me as Big Country. I saw them twice in that last 18 months or so, at Shepherd's Bush Empire and The Forum. They were as epic as I remember them when I saw them in 1989, aged 15, at Portsmouth Guildhall. Full of power and passion, lifting everyone up to the rafters.
Nothing has dimmed my love for Stuart and his music after almost four decades of listening. It seems he never realised quite what an impact he had on people with his words and music - and it is perhaps somewhat ironic that his catchphrase of sorts - 'Stay alive' - ended up not being something he could live with.
I go back to Jim Kerr's tribute for one last summary of Stuart:
"In general I am not a big fan of electric guitar heroes as such. However, in the conspiring ingredients necessary to make passionate rock n roll, where the primal thing meets the beauty thing and the intellectual thing is charged with rage, then dispersed with grace, well basically, I don't care if you play it with spoons. Just count me in, because you are speaking my language. That night, The Skids, through Stuart, spoke volumes to me...... So sleep tonight, Stuart Adamson. And don't tell me that we will never play together again. I just don't want to hear it."
In a big country, dreams stay with you
Like a lovers voice fires the mountainside
Stay alive