“The Last Dance – Scottish rock band R*nr*g’s 2018 poignant farewell concert.”
Not sure what all the fuss is about? I suspect after 183 minutes you will have formed an opinion.
https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episodes/m000ty27/runrig-the-last-dance
The Last Dance
by 9 Comments
I’ve never understood the criticism Runrig seem to attract around these parts. Good musicians playing well-honed songs with passion (especially live), and singing lyrics that appear to saying something sincere – that sounds OK to me.
I’m not Scottish and can’t understand Gaelic, so some of the sentiment passes me by, but songs like Alba and Siol Gioradh are really powerful pieces of music that I can get behind.
I do think they went downhill after Donnie Munro left – his replacement Bruce Guthro just didn’t work for me, and on at least one live album he sounds annoyingly desperate as he urges the crowd to sing along. So it’s a shame that it’s him leading the charge in The Last Dance.
Nonetheless, I think it’s a really entertaining film. The value-for-money setlist has a lot of my favourites and some nice crowdpleasing bits. And what a crowd: Runrig fans seem to share a passion for the band that’s stronger than most fandoms. There are plenty in tears by the end, and I found their devotion for this group that maybe never quite made the A-list quite lovely.
Also, the end, where (spoiler alert) guitarist Malcolm Jones seems inconsolable about the curtain coming down on the band’s career, is one of the most moving parts of any live video I’ve seen.
Musicianship, passion etc. does not give the right to be dull.
That’s my take on Runrig.
I’ve said it before, I quite like a couple of their records, and I’ve seen them live, once, but I can see exactly why they attract criticism. The music was, IMHO, either folky-dull or bombastic-dull, with little light or shade.
The first record I heard was live album Once In A Lifetime, a good balance of Celtic tunes and rock guitars, and I saw a gig on the tour. The other I liked was their mid-90s “there’s always been an element of dance to our sound” album Mara, which died on its arse and might be considered a precursor to the Afro-Celt Sound System, but without the African influence.
I’m not sure I have the stamina for three hours of them, though. I’m not sure I have the stamina for three hours of anybody.
They appealed to the latent gael in me, once I got over their Loch Lomond fixation, the song, not the place, and a song that summed up the worst of the sort of Caledonian romanticism so sturdily demolished by Brian McNeill’s “No Gods and Precious Few Heroes”. Their problem was the 80s and the expectations, sonically and fashion wise, they, in a bid for universal appeal, they had to mould their image to: I recall a particularly dire Pebble Mill at One performance, all mullets and rolled up satin jacket sleeves. But the music had passion, even within the pomp, and some of their quieter songs were sublime. Munro was certainly a better fit than Guthro, even if the first album with the Canadian singer seemed to beckon in a new and less stereotypical direction, before returning to the existing template.
I think their legacy is more important as front runners and innovators, at a time when Celtic music equalled Irish. With only Wolfstone and Capercaillie for company, they set the runes for the current vibrant Scottish folk derived and influenced tsunami of artists, using the tradition, and often the Gaelic language, to launch ever more inventive fusions with rock, jazz, electronica and even dub reggae. So, on that basis, bless ‘em all.
I only saw them live once, towards the end, a show so full of backdropped historical videos that it couldn’t fail to give credence to their actually monumental and single minded achievement.
One of my favourite songs
The Big Wheel is one I purchased in an HMV sale, played once, and gave up on them. Until Mara, four years later (heard in the Reading branch of Richer Sounds, along with an album by Altan), after which I really did give up for good. Mara turns 30 this year. Jeez.
I bumped into Donnie Munro once, one cold evening at the burger van near the CalMac pier in Uig harbour. He smiled and said ‘Hi there’ as he left with his supper, and I turned to the van chap to ask for some chips. He looked at me wide-eyed and smiling, “Do you know who that was? That was Donnie Munro!” and I could see how much it meant to him to have served the guy who lead the band who were championing music from the Scotttish gaelic tradition. A legend in his own supper queue, but just a regular guy getting a takeaway, and the bloke behind the fryer was delighted to have met him. I’m not sure if he paid for his grub, but I’ll wager he did. I think you’re dead right about inspiring many others who followed them. I still have my 12 inch Hearthammer EP of theirs, with the humungous list of names printed inside, and it is a wondrous gatefold thing.
Runrig were years ahead of their time. They sound exactly like an AI generated Scottish rock band created now would sound.
Oof. Cruel but true. And I’m Scottish.
I only know one track of theirs which was on a New Roots compilation. Google tells me it was “Hearts Of Olden Glory” and I think I quite liked it. I’ll give this a look.