Sid Chalmers
From David Phillips book ‘Jimmy Shand’
Sid Chalmers had a couple of spells with the bandPage 74.
Son of Forfar Pipe Band’s Pipe Major (granddad was also a piper) he had enough confidence in his fiddle playing by the age of fifteen to enter at the Alyth Festival of 1933. Expert fiddler and on everything to do with the fiddle, Jim Barrie was there. He spoke encouragingly to the laddie in the short breeks.
“Playin’ lang, son?”
“Oh aye, fair while.”
“Mind ye there’s some guid players in yer class here the day.”
“What class dae ye mean?”
“Under sixteen of course, what else?”
“I’m entered for the open class.”
“Well, well! Ye realise a’ wha ye’re up against? The open ; an’ ye’re what, about fifteen?”
“Aye.”
“Look – tell ye what, son ; would ye like me tae listen tae ye first – I would like tae hear ye……”
“Just here? Now, ye mean?”
“Just that ; an’ dinna be nervous, son ; just dae yer best.”
Sid did his best.
A sure bow began to draw out the haunting slow march, Dark Lochnagar. The tune is a perfect setting for Lord Byron’s poem about the queen of the mountains of his beloved Deeside ; but now the melody stood alone, evoking the wildness, the majesty, the steep frowning glories, the exile’s yearning eerily conveyed in the playing of a laddie who had never been away from home.
What could Jim Barrie say after such an astonishing revelation of talent? Hardly anything, really. Signed “Aye,” perhaps ; put a hand on the laddie’s shoulder.
To the other mature competitors he was much more voluble. In view of what he had just heard he spoke to them of their chances – which he confidently placed at nil.
And he was right. The laddie in the short breeks came first.
Two years later, at seventeen, Sid Chalmers, apprentice plumber, was Scottish Fiddle Champion.
Any day now, surely, Jimmy Shand would hear of him, want him in the band. Only, strangely, the laddie fae the county town so weel-versed in country style music seems to have harkened to the sirens ; and headed south. Give him his due, he didn’t give up the fiddle, but did feel the need to supplement it.
To this end he took up what his father probably – and his grandfather would have definitely – considered parodies, caricatures of the bagpipes ; he learned to play clarinet and saxophone. This doubling allowed him more scope getting engagements with band bands in London and round about.
Sid was 32 and back home in 1952 when Jimmy Shand sought a replacement fiddler. In return, many fiddlers wanted Shand as their leader. Jimmy had a sheaf of applications.
Perhaps old friend Jim Barrie would help him sort them out?
“Ye want me tae help ye get a fiddler?”
“That’s whit these letters are a’ aboot. Would ye hae a look through them when ye have time?”
Barrie pushed the letters to one side. “I’ll tell you about a fiddler,” he said ; “nae need tae gae through this lot.”
Sid became the band’s new fiddler (and youngest member) before Jimmy had even heard him play.
Page 96
March 1957
“Jimmy Shand’s Last Dance” mourned the Daily Record ; “Scotland’s number one ambassador of music has quit.” (On the eve of his retirement he received many messages ; protests, condolences ; and one message over the radio which touched him most of all – “We have elected you and your band Musicians of the Year,” from the staff of the Australian Station – Mawson in the Antarctic!)
The People’s Journal not only announced “Jimmy Shand Gives Up” but also “And so do two of his band” and went on –
What of the band that has served him faithfully through the years?
It has experienced shows without Punch before. The Shand Band went on its merry music-making way while the maestro was in hospital for his stomach operation.
It was the same when Jimmy toured America and Canada. The knights of King Jimmy absorbed so much of his rhythm that sometimes the dancers scarcely missed the king himself.
But this time the outlook is not so bright. For the Jimmy Shand Band is not only losing Jimmy Shand. It is in fact being split in half.
When the boss announced his decision, Sid Chalmers, violinist and one of the band’s most skilled musicians, decided that he, too, would retire for the present.
So did accordionist George McKelvey.
Son of Forfar Pipe Band’s Pipe Major (granddad was also a piper) he had enough confidence in his fiddle playing by the age of fifteen to enter at the Alyth Festival of 1933. Expert fiddler and on everything to do with the fiddle, Jim Barrie was there. He spoke encouragingly to the laddie in the short breeks.
“Playin’ lang, son?”
“Oh aye, fair while.”
“Mind ye there’s some guid players in yer class here the day.”
“What class dae ye mean?”
“Under sixteen of course, what else?”
“I’m entered for the open class.”
“Well, well! Ye realise a’ wha ye’re up against? The open ; an’ ye’re what, about fifteen?”
“Aye.”
“Look – tell ye what, son ; would ye like me tae listen tae ye first – I would like tae hear ye……”
“Just here? Now, ye mean?”
“Just that ; an’ dinna be nervous, son ; just dae yer best.”
Sid did his best.
A sure bow began to draw out the haunting slow march, Dark Lochnagar. The tune is a perfect setting for Lord Byron’s poem about the queen of the mountains of his beloved Deeside ; but now the melody stood alone, evoking the wildness, the majesty, the steep frowning glories, the exile’s yearning eerily conveyed in the playing of a laddie who had never been away from home.
What could Jim Barrie say after such an astonishing revelation of talent? Hardly anything, really. Signed “Aye,” perhaps ; put a hand on the laddie’s shoulder.
To the other mature competitors he was much more voluble. In view of what he had just heard he spoke to them of their chances – which he confidently placed at nil.
And he was right. The laddie in the short breeks came first.
Two years later, at seventeen, Sid Chalmers, apprentice plumber, was Scottish Fiddle Champion.
Any day now, surely, Jimmy Shand would hear of him, want him in the band. Only, strangely, the laddie fae the county town so weel-versed in country style music seems to have harkened to the sirens ; and headed south. Give him his due, he didn’t give up the fiddle, but did feel the need to supplement it.
To this end he took up what his father probably – and his grandfather would have definitely – considered parodies, caricatures of the bagpipes ; he learned to play clarinet and saxophone. This doubling allowed him more scope getting engagements with band bands in London and round about.
Sid was 32 and back home in 1952 when Jimmy Shand sought a replacement fiddler. In return, many fiddlers wanted Shand as their leader. Jimmy had a sheaf of applications.
Perhaps old friend Jim Barrie would help him sort them out?
“Ye want me tae help ye get a fiddler?”
“That’s whit these letters are a’ aboot. Would ye hae a look through them when ye have time?”
Barrie pushed the letters to one side. “I’ll tell you about a fiddler,” he said ; “nae need tae gae through this lot.”
Sid became the band’s new fiddler (and youngest member) before Jimmy had even heard him play.
Page 96
March 1957
“Jimmy Shand’s Last Dance” mourned the Daily Record ; “Scotland’s number one ambassador of music has quit.” (On the eve of his retirement he received many messages ; protests, condolences ; and one message over the radio which touched him most of all – “We have elected you and your band Musicians of the Year,” from the staff of the Australian Station – Mawson in the Antarctic!)
The People’s Journal not only announced “Jimmy Shand Gives Up” but also “And so do two of his band” and went on –
What of the band that has served him faithfully through the years?
It has experienced shows without Punch before. The Shand Band went on its merry music-making way while the maestro was in hospital for his stomach operation.
It was the same when Jimmy toured America and Canada. The knights of King Jimmy absorbed so much of his rhythm that sometimes the dancers scarcely missed the king himself.
But this time the outlook is not so bright. For the Jimmy Shand Band is not only losing Jimmy Shand. It is in fact being split in half.
When the boss announced his decision, Sid Chalmers, violinist and one of the band’s most skilled musicians, decided that he, too, would retire for the present.
So did accordionist George McKelvey.