Eann Nicolson
Obituary
By Noel Donaldson
Scotland lost one of its leading accordionists recently in the form of Eann Nicolson of Milton View, Newton Road, Wick.
He died at the Central Hospital, Wick, recently after period of illness.
Fellow musician, Noel Donaldson, a Wick journalist, now working in Orkney, was among many players and friends throughout the country who were saddened by Eann’s passing and looks back at his long association with the man he regarded as ‘the maestro.’
Eann’s contribution to Scottish dance music was immense. His individual style on the accordion and his talent for composition and arrangements, helped make the Wick Scottish Dance Band a success story.
Eann studied the piano from the age of eight and was destined for a career in music when he got called up for Army Service.
He served with the Pay Corps but developed back trouble which was diagnosed as a tubercular infection of the spine. He was confined to bed for three years but still managed to amaze and delight patients by playing the box. After the war, Eann decided it was too late to pick up the threads of his formal music career. And when the Wick Scottish Dance Band’s accordionist, Billy Dowler, decided to emigrate to Australia, there was only one choice as his replacement.
Eann went on to tour Scotland with the band for more than 25 years and apart from the live appearances, cut several records. I counted it a privilege to sit in with him on piano in the sixties when he recorded an EP – ‘The Bonnie Woods of Stirkoke’ and a selection of hornpipes, the second release from Jimmy Johnstone’s studios in Bank Row in the sixties.
Eann always maintained you could play the pieces perfectly until you were confronted with the demands of the recording studio. Eann would get a clear run and I would slip up. Next time round the roles would be reversed!
Eventually, we got the tunes as near right as they would ever be and Jimmy proclaimed it a ‘wrap’ or whatever the appropriate parlance was in those days. It’s a record I’ll always treasure.
Humour
Eann had a marvellous, endearing wit, often as not dry but like a good wine, always exhilarating.
It was never more potent than at one New Year party in our house in Thurso Street. In between musical selections there were reminiscences. My dad was recounting a story from his University days and told of how, one night, he cycled down a hill into town for, as he put it, ‘some fun and games.’ Eann interjected with a single word – ‘dominoes’ – and took the house down.
Then there was the ‘hairlarious’ episode again illustrating Eann’s priceless sense of humour. I’ve told the yarn before and as it was broadcast in a radio interview I did with Eann, it’s no secret and I’m sure he wouldn’t have minded me recounting it.
Being so much in the public eye, Eann who had gone a ‘bit thin’ on top, decided to invest in a hairpiece. The new look was well received but looks, as they say, can be deceptive. On one occasion the band were paying a return visit to a hall in the Borders if I remember correctly. A fan of the band who had listened to their performance from the side of the platform, in between refreshing himself frequently from a ‘haffie’, staggered up to Eann and lavished generous praise on the band. Interspersed with some rich adjectives, the fan grasped Eann by the hand, pumping it vigorously and declared “You’re a …… great player and you know what……… you’re streets ahead of yon bald heided guy they had.”
Away from the demanding schedule of dances down the line, Eann tuned pianos. It was a skill which was frequently proved a boon in some of the country halls. It was in the days before electric keyboards. The band would arrive to find the upright piano wanting tuned and it wasn’t unknown for Eann to be finishing the tuning when the first dancer were trooping into the hall.
Tutor
Eann also taught music. It was here I first came into contact with him. I turned from piano to accordion believing it was a simple case of strapping on the box and the rest was easy. But the buttons were confusing and I knew nothing about bellows phrasing and coordination. Enter Eann. I remember my early lessons clearly. At one point he asked “Now, do you understand that?” I replied in the affirmative but didn’t fool the perceptive teacher for a moment. Eann knew I had not grasped the point and delivered a home truth. “Never say you understand something when you don’t, just to avoid embarrassment. If you don’t pick it up one way, we’ll try another…..that’s what I’m here for.” It was a lesson I never forgot and from then on, we got on ‘like a house on fire.’
His other homily that stayed with me was – “You’re happiest playing days are when you’re playing for nothing.” I found that difficult to comprehend in my tender years.
How could it possibly be the case when you are receiving no recompense for your skill. Money does put a different complexion on things although it must be said that most successful players have a genuine interest and pride in their music.
Eann had the best of both worlds – the music talent and the ability to communicate it, an equally important skill. He was fond of using practical illustrations to get a point across. On one occasion he verbally bisected an apple to draw a comparison on note values to the quarters of an apple.
Eann’s contribution to Scottish dance music is inestimable and while there is little consolation amid the grief that death brings, there must be pride and comfort to be drawn from the unforgettable memories.
Box and Fiddle
December 1990
He died at the Central Hospital, Wick, recently after period of illness.
Fellow musician, Noel Donaldson, a Wick journalist, now working in Orkney, was among many players and friends throughout the country who were saddened by Eann’s passing and looks back at his long association with the man he regarded as ‘the maestro.’
Eann’s contribution to Scottish dance music was immense. His individual style on the accordion and his talent for composition and arrangements, helped make the Wick Scottish Dance Band a success story.
Eann studied the piano from the age of eight and was destined for a career in music when he got called up for Army Service.
He served with the Pay Corps but developed back trouble which was diagnosed as a tubercular infection of the spine. He was confined to bed for three years but still managed to amaze and delight patients by playing the box. After the war, Eann decided it was too late to pick up the threads of his formal music career. And when the Wick Scottish Dance Band’s accordionist, Billy Dowler, decided to emigrate to Australia, there was only one choice as his replacement.
Eann went on to tour Scotland with the band for more than 25 years and apart from the live appearances, cut several records. I counted it a privilege to sit in with him on piano in the sixties when he recorded an EP – ‘The Bonnie Woods of Stirkoke’ and a selection of hornpipes, the second release from Jimmy Johnstone’s studios in Bank Row in the sixties.
Eann always maintained you could play the pieces perfectly until you were confronted with the demands of the recording studio. Eann would get a clear run and I would slip up. Next time round the roles would be reversed!
Eventually, we got the tunes as near right as they would ever be and Jimmy proclaimed it a ‘wrap’ or whatever the appropriate parlance was in those days. It’s a record I’ll always treasure.
Humour
Eann had a marvellous, endearing wit, often as not dry but like a good wine, always exhilarating.
It was never more potent than at one New Year party in our house in Thurso Street. In between musical selections there were reminiscences. My dad was recounting a story from his University days and told of how, one night, he cycled down a hill into town for, as he put it, ‘some fun and games.’ Eann interjected with a single word – ‘dominoes’ – and took the house down.
Then there was the ‘hairlarious’ episode again illustrating Eann’s priceless sense of humour. I’ve told the yarn before and as it was broadcast in a radio interview I did with Eann, it’s no secret and I’m sure he wouldn’t have minded me recounting it.
Being so much in the public eye, Eann who had gone a ‘bit thin’ on top, decided to invest in a hairpiece. The new look was well received but looks, as they say, can be deceptive. On one occasion the band were paying a return visit to a hall in the Borders if I remember correctly. A fan of the band who had listened to their performance from the side of the platform, in between refreshing himself frequently from a ‘haffie’, staggered up to Eann and lavished generous praise on the band. Interspersed with some rich adjectives, the fan grasped Eann by the hand, pumping it vigorously and declared “You’re a …… great player and you know what……… you’re streets ahead of yon bald heided guy they had.”
Away from the demanding schedule of dances down the line, Eann tuned pianos. It was a skill which was frequently proved a boon in some of the country halls. It was in the days before electric keyboards. The band would arrive to find the upright piano wanting tuned and it wasn’t unknown for Eann to be finishing the tuning when the first dancer were trooping into the hall.
Tutor
Eann also taught music. It was here I first came into contact with him. I turned from piano to accordion believing it was a simple case of strapping on the box and the rest was easy. But the buttons were confusing and I knew nothing about bellows phrasing and coordination. Enter Eann. I remember my early lessons clearly. At one point he asked “Now, do you understand that?” I replied in the affirmative but didn’t fool the perceptive teacher for a moment. Eann knew I had not grasped the point and delivered a home truth. “Never say you understand something when you don’t, just to avoid embarrassment. If you don’t pick it up one way, we’ll try another…..that’s what I’m here for.” It was a lesson I never forgot and from then on, we got on ‘like a house on fire.’
His other homily that stayed with me was – “You’re happiest playing days are when you’re playing for nothing.” I found that difficult to comprehend in my tender years.
How could it possibly be the case when you are receiving no recompense for your skill. Money does put a different complexion on things although it must be said that most successful players have a genuine interest and pride in their music.
Eann had the best of both worlds – the music talent and the ability to communicate it, an equally important skill. He was fond of using practical illustrations to get a point across. On one occasion he verbally bisected an apple to draw a comparison on note values to the quarters of an apple.
Eann’s contribution to Scottish dance music is inestimable and while there is little consolation amid the grief that death brings, there must be pride and comfort to be drawn from the unforgettable memories.
Box and Fiddle
December 1990