There have already been thousands of words written about Silly Wizard during, and after, their remarkable 18-year career together (1970-1988). I was fortunate to see them perform several times during their heyday in the 1970’s and 1980’s and that was worth more to me than several volumes of narrative. Those nights still echo round my head, and in my mind’s eye, I can still see the fiendish, fluid, sometimes frantic, but always measured, fiddle playing of the boy genius that was Johnny Cunningham (fiddle, viola, mandolin), who was later joined by his equally talented brother Phil Cunningham, a brilliant accordion player. The solid foundation that “kept the ship on course” was provided by Gordon Jones, the rhythm engine room on guitar. His vocals and bodhran playing were also a major contribution to the band’s overall sound. His great friend, who was also there at the beginning, Bob Thomas, one of the finest acoustic guitarists of his generation, wove intricate patterns around Gordon’s solid rhythms, and had a lovely touch, and a great feel for the music. When Bob left the band (1978), Gordon‘s, “signature, percussive guitar playing” (brother Brian’s description), took on even more significance, although his bodhran playing continued to excel, and drive the band’s tune sets. Over the years, Gordon became one of the best exponents of this surprisingly difficult percussion instrument, and his playing, as with his guitar, certainly helped to drive the band along in many of their memorable instrumentals.
A heady mixture, with those already mentioned above, the final piece of the jigsaw came with their talismanic lead singer, Andy M. Stewart. Surely, one of the finest vocalists on the Scottish traditional music scene, Andy also turned out to be one of the best songwriters of his generation too. He had the incredible ability to write a new song and make it sound traditional. Who could ever forget, “Golden, Golden”, “The Ramblin ‘Rover”, “The Queen of Argyll” and “Lovers Heart”, among the many Stewart originals. In praising his writing talents, we must also not forget that he was an exceptional tenor banjo player, who also added tin whistles to the band’s already full sound, when required.
After all that build up, the song seems almost immaterial, but for those song and tune collectors among you, “The Parish of Dunkeld”, was first published in 1824 by James Maidment, and the tune that follows, “The Curlew”, was written by piper Donald McPherson, a former Boys Brigade musician, who died at the grand old age of 89 in 2012. In this instance, it is typical of, the band’s mischievous, tongue-in-cheek humour. “The Parish of Dunkeld” does not sound the most reverent of places but, like many of their songs, it provides the launch pad for those brilliant instrumental breaks. From: https://openhousefolk.com/the-parish-of-dunkeld/
