BOOKS
BOOKS
THERE is much that is typical in the story of Stuart Adamson. An underrated musician, he shaped two notable groups: first as guitarist with the Skids, and then as frontman of Big Country. In the cruel amnesia of rock history, he’s cited for his influence on U2, with The Edge acknowledging the “big noise” of the Skids’ early records. More precisely, he is remembered for a guitar sound that appeared to mimic the drone of a bagpipe, employed in a widescreen Celtic rock idiom that is usually characterised as “epic”.
Adamson enjoyed considerable success, but was ambivalent about the immodest business of being a frontman. While Skids singer Richard Jobson high-kicked in the spotlight, Adamson fled – sometimes literally – when the demands of the job grew too onerous. In Stay Alive, Scott Rowley frames him as a character at odds with the cartoonish pop stars that prevailed in the 1980s. “I’m just a bloke with a wife and a bairn,” Adamson said. Big Country’s guitarist, Bruce Watson – whose quotes puncture the solemnity of this story – notes that Adamson was urged to follow the example of exuberant performers such as Bono or Jim Kerr, “but Stuart just wanted to play guitar, sing, write his songs and then fuck off home to see his missus and watch the football”. Said missus – his first wife, Sandra – confirms that Stuart’s early ambitions were low-key. “The scene was mince and tatties, hoovering a hoose and getting on with life. And if you’re good at songwriting, brilliant.”