The Bench

I'd never done a music pilgrimage before - well, I suppose I had never done any kind of pilgrimage come to that...

But, while on holiday, I found myself only a few miles from the hometown of my all-time musical hero. How could I pass up the opportunity to pop in and pay my respects somehow?

I knew there were a few potential locations that I could visit, but the holiday was about done and I had a car full of people who probably didn't want to spend hours running around doing the full tour. So, I focused on a commemorative bench that I knew had been installed in the town's main park - a natural place to aim for on such a pilgrimage.

The thing is, when we got there - Pittencrieff Park on the western edge of Dunfermline - a family was sitting on the bench, seemingly oblivious to its huge importance. So, we wandered off for a bit, and what a glorious setting the bench has, in a sunken garden surrounded by playing fields, a glasshouse and formal garden - and all under the shadow of Dunfermline Abbey.

Twenty minutes later we went back through. Still there. We loitered... then they left!

But, then there was a weird foot race as we noticed a father and son heading for it from the other direction. They beat me to it. The dad was reading out some of the words on it, but they weren't being read with the reverence they clearly deserved. What kind of people sit on a bench like this without fully caring about its importance?

I thought about walking off again, maybe waiting some more, but time was not my friend at this stage. I thought about pointing out that I had been waiting patiently for a long time for 'my go' on the bench. But in the end, I did what any British man would do - half-coughed and quietly asked if I could just take a photo of my bench, mumbling about my special trip for my musical hero.

The problem is, by now, I felt foolish. What on earth was I thinking? A 52 year old man getting emotional and making demands to see a bench? And all now with the added pressure of being stared at by a disinterested man who just wanted a seat and his young son, who was clearly bemused at a man taking photos of a bench....

So I took my photos and beat a slightly embarrassed retreat.

Was I foolish to want to make this trip? It certainly felt that way as I went back to the car. But the silly feeling was mixed with the emotion of making some sort of contact with my hero. It sounds so silly in some ways, but this is a man whose words and music have filled my soul since the age of thirteen. His passion continues to speak to me through his songs, even almost a quarter century after his death.

So, this is for you - Stuart Adamson!

It might just be a bench - but the words engrained onto it, from some of his songs, serve as a reminder of what he has meant to thousands of fans like me over the years.

"I want you to walk home, I want you to hold, but I'm scared to dance"

(The Skids: Scared To Dance - lyrics Richard Jobson, music Stuart Adamson)

"In a Big Country dreams stay with you like a lovers voice fires the mountainside. Stay alive."

(Big Country: In A Big Country - lyrics and music Adamson, Watson, Butler, Brzezicki)

"Some days will stay a thousand years, some pass like a flash of a spark, who knows where all our days go."

(Big Country: East Of Eden - lyrics Stuart Adamson, music Adamson, Watson, Butler, Brzezicki)

"Here is strength for us to find, to turn the old to new, and wipe our eyes of misty years and see the future through."

(Big Country: Eiledon - music and lyrics Stuart Adamson)

It may seem a little ridiculous in so many ways, but that can be the power that music has over you. If you would like to, but you can read more on my love of Stuart Adamson here.

And I cannot leave this without sharing one of my favourite songs, from one of those 'I wish I had been there' gigs - The Barrowlands in Glasgow, on New Year's Eve 1983, as they were hitting their stride and in front of a passionate 'home' crowd.