THE LIST: 25 YEARS
NOT JUST A LISTINGS MAG . . . We've put together a marvellous selection of Scottish talent for our birthday event, from King Creosote to Christopher Brookmyre. Tickets are selling fast. Turn to page 12 for info on how to buy yours now
T H E L I S T 2 5 Y E A R S T H E A R C H E S , G L A S G O W F R I 2 2 O C T
MANY HAPPY RETURNS We asked King Creosote, aka Kenny Anderson, to recall some of his most memorable birthdays. As it turns out, most were memorable for the wrong reasons. Important note: The List’s 25th will involve zero turtle carcasses
‘M y birthday is 2 February. On the closest Saturday to my 6th birthday in 1973 it was my turn to invite half a dozen classmates round to the house for ice cream and jelly, the usual. So far so embarrassing, but then my mum had to give one of my friends a blistering row. Mortifying.
That was the last birthday party in my name. My 11th birthday, however, was the last occasion that I gave a shit about what present I received, for this was 1978 and skateboards had arrived in the UK. There at the end of my bunk was a highly coveted pinky-red slalom board complete with red kryps [Kryptonic brand
10 THE LIST 21 Oct–4 Nov 2010
skateboard wheels], but to my horror accompanied by a white helmet, yellow plastic knee and elbow pads, stretchy rainbow straps and velcro galore. Mortifying. I flew into Edinburgh Airport after a month in the US on 2 February 1996 to be given a really hard time by immigration – where had I been? How much money had I made? Who did I stay with? And so on. Just as they let me go a customs officer called out “Oh Mr Anderson, just one more thing.” “What?!” “Happy birthday!” My brother Iain, Stu Bastiman and Kirsty Winskill were waiting for me in the foyer with acoustic guitars. Mortifying.
On my 37th birthday I strode out along the coastal path about half a mile out of Crail in Fife, looking resplendent in my ladies red fake duffel coat, to try and find the giant Galapagos turtle that had washed ashore. It was so big that at first I didn’t see it, but there on the rocks was what looked like a tall man, arms outstretched, wearing a wetsuit and large oblong shell. The eyes had gone, flipper bones exposed, and it had started to rot, but hey, you get one chance at this and I leaped onto its back. My feet shot out from under me, back I went, and my entire arm disappeared into the rotting armhole of the shell. I panicked, thrashed, and like a dog I rolled about in stinking turtle, much to the amusement of the watching walkers. Mortifying. This year I gave myself a Wilfred Owen haircut and went to visit Newark Castle before getting caught by the tide. Had to shout for help. Did I mention that 2 Feb is also Groundhog Day?
Mortifying.’
King Creosote will play the main stage at The List: 25 Years. www.kingcreosote.com