Fringe by the Sea: Prov Johnstone Band / Peat and Diesel

Two joyful multigenerational music acts one after the other on Friday 13th at Fringe by the Sea.  

The Prov Johnstone Band of twelve pro, ex-pro and amateur musicians from various popular genres came together seventeen years ago for a charity gig and continue to raise money for causes. The FBTS performance in North Berwick was in aid of Leuchie House, a country mansion tucked behind the town providing respite holidays for people with medical conditions demanding high-level care. 

Prov Johnstone played back-to-back up-beat rock classics with palpable joy and justified self-confidence, their slickness all the more impressive for immediately following lockdown. What more can I say? I paid little attention to detail because like everyone else I couldn’t help dancing. The venue is open carport-style by the library in a residential street, and I’m told one neighbour had been complaining during other loud events – this may have been behind the sudden appearance of the pair of policepersons who loomed at the entrance, peering in to the melée.  

But perhaps at the sight of the incongruous mixed bag of boppers, from svelte twenties to roly-poly boomers, the police were beaming beyond ear-to-ear, lingered unnecessarily long, then left us in peace. Well, not peace exactly with Honky-Tonk Man in the foreground, but unmolested. 

After Prov Johnstone it was two minutes up the Lodge steps to the Belhaven Big Top in the park for another band with a cross-generational following (self-dubbed ‘Peatlemaniacs’), where grizzled old Folkies mingled with generations ‘xyz’ and beyond, to revel in surprise internet-spawned sensation Peat and Diesel. Three callow young men from Stornoway, disarmingly modest, perched in a triangle onstage and belted out a string of fast-paced numbers, traditional with a strong element of Celtic Punk and early Runrig. The lyrics, English peppered with popular Gallic catchphrases, are about island life, delivered tongue-in-cheek in the grand old Scots tradition of self-deprecation.  

This act does not bear the hallmarks of Glasgow Conservatoire-nurtured Traditional musicians, but it is a grand re-popularisation of Scottish Folk. The singing style is reminiscent of the Dubliners, including some rapid Celtic rap-style passages, though P&D use much less contrast and variety.  For my money this was a lack in tonight’s set: the default short stabbing tempo was exhilarating but diminished in value through overuse. ‘My Island’ was noticeable for being just a little slower, and a number whose name I couldn’t catch (perhaps one of the Gallic catchphrases) had a lovely section where the pace wound down to a lazy rubato before swooping back up again up to tempo.  More variation of this sort would be good.   

But then again, for the first gig after lockdown perhaps the steady stream of up-beats was right for the celebrational V-day thrill in band and fans. After all, it seems we were not just the one Big Topful of people; I noticed a tweet from an ‘Ullapudlian’ who was listening along with us live… in Sydney Australia.