Ballads n' Beats
A concert of songs created and performed by local
On Friday 23rd June 2006 in Banff Academy School Hall
|The songs for this year's concert were chosen
from a number made last year by children from Banff,
Aberchirder, Fordyce and
Bracoden schools. The children worked with
song-writers Emily Smith, Gill Bowman, Christine Kydd, Rod Paterson and
David Francis on songs that had as their theme the children's response to
their place and their community. The project for 2006 involved arranging
the songs for performance with the children singing and being part of the
The Boat Festival Band
|Anna Wendy Stevenson (fiddle, whistle)|
|Sharon Hassan (fiddle)|
|Simon Thoumire (concertina)|
|David Francis (guitar)|
|Rod Paterson (guitar)||
Click on pictures for a larger view
The second half of the programme involved a spirited
and much appreciated performance by the Turriff Silver Band
The songs from the different schools are listed below
along with some photos of the performances
Ordiquhill : Macduff :
Aberchirder : Portsoy :
Fordyce : Whitehills
To see the music and listen to the tunes
(Banff School/ Sharon Hassan.
Tune: Barnyards o Delgaty)
As I cam in by Portsoy harbour,
Many small boats I did see,
Voices boomin ower the tannoy,
Come oot on the boats wi me.
Lintin adie toorin adie
Lintin adie toorin ay
Lintin lourin lourin lourin
The 'Portsoy Boats' the place tae be.
If you go to the dance on Friday,
Very excited you will be,
Boston Two-Steps and Gay Gordons,
Dancin to the tunes ye'll be.
Lots of boats line up for racing,
On their way to victory,
Comin fae Old Harbourside,
Boldly sail the bumpy sea.
(Ordiquhill School/ David Francis.
Tune: Ye Cannae Shove Yer Granny)
Knock Hill was a volcano long ago,
Dinosaurs roamed round here long ago.
Well they liked to eat each other,
Father, sister, brother.
They liked to eat each other long ago.
The Romans built a camp here long ago
They built it in the rain and frost and snow.
But they thought it was too cold
And they fled young and old
They thought it was too cold long ago.
William Hay built the Hay Memorial Hall
He thought being an architect was a ball.
But they thought he was a failure
So they sent him to Australia
They thought he was a failure long ago.
The distillery got flooded so they say.
And the people talk about it to this day.
As they swam around in whisky
They got a wee bit frisky
And the heads were sore in Cornhill all next day.
Let the Starfish Go
(Macduff School/ Rod Paterson.
Tune: The Ballad of Johnny Ramensky)
I was a little starfish on the ocean floor
Noo I'm in a tankie, and I can't get out the door.
Alley ee alley ay, alley oo alley o
Open up your gates of glass and let the starfish go
I was a little starfish on the ocean bed
I strayed into a lobster creel, noo I'm somewhere else instead
My brothers and my sisters, my aunts and uncles too
Are the colours of the rainbow, purple, pink and blue
I fear no living creature as through the sea I waft
Don't you touch my bairnies, cos they're just sma and saft.
If I was a bairnie I'd squeeze through any space
Now I'm old and crusty and I can't get out this place.
Gaimrie Gala Week
(Bracoden School/ Emily Smith.
Tune: The Spinners' Wedding)
Every year aboot July
It's Gamrie Gala Week
The pewyulls on the hairbour wa'
They gie a big loud shriek!
Huree Hurro ma daddy o
Huree Hurro ma daddy o
Huree Hurro ma daddy o
We're a' gan tae the gala o
We're hopin' fir a richt braw day
So we can play ootside
For if it starts tae rain ava
Inside we'll hae tae bide
The quines put in their photie
Tae be the Herrin' Queen
A wifie an' a mannie
Must choose the bonniest een
The loons a' love the gala games
It's far we test oor skill
'Hunt the Fox' and 'Smash 'e Plate'
It gies us sic a thrill
The Foggie Show
(Aberchirder School/ Rod Paterson. Tune: The Back o Bennachie)
We ayewis ken it's the Foggie Show , when the Foggie flags are on the go,
And the floodlights dimly start to glow , for the show at Foggieloan
The Foggie Show is wonderful, it's ACE, it's COOL, it's better than school
We've even got a mechanical bull at the Show in Foggieloan.
On Friday night we rush aboot , looking all our entries oot ,
In hopes they'll win , wi'oot a doot , a prize at Foggieloan .
There's fruit and flooers and giant neeps . Scones and pancakes , piles o'
sweets , that
Only judges get to eat , at the Show in Foggieloan .
The world record - it was Foggies -
One hundred and fifty eight dancing doggies , and they
Say next year we'll dae't wi' moggies
At the Show in Foggieloan.
(Portsoy School/ David Francis.
Tune: The Bonnie Lass of Fyvie)
When the bell goes
To the main door we run
We run aboot like mad in the playground o
We all run a race
Fa' flat on oor face (ow!)
And need to get a plaister fae Carol o.
The boys get a ba'
While the girls like to skip
Someb'dy wants to play Cock-a-Roses o
We run in a crowd
Till someone shouts out loud
Last een to the wa's a hairy kipper-o
Stick in the Mud,
Spinnies and Squash
We all like to play Cops and Robbers o
Until it got too rough
And the teachers cried 'enough'
And the game it was banned by Mrs Summers o
17th Century Harbour
(Portsoy School/ Emily Smith.
Tune: The Wheel of Fortune)
When you stand on Portsoy harbour
And you look out to the sea
Sometimes you can see the sunset
Shining pink it glows on me
Our harbour was built in the seventeenth century
But by who it is not known
Lots of creatures like to swim there
Splashing in their ocean home
There's mackerel, crab and sometimes dolphins
Lobsters, seals and jellyfish
If you go for your tea in the Boyne Hotel
They'll serve you a fish in a fancy dish
(Fordyce School/ David Francis.
Tune: The Barnyards o Delgaty)
Haud yer wheesht, ye gabby snarrach,
Go and get yer hamework deen.
You stick in and get it feenished
An ye'll get on yer trampoline
My ma says 'Have ye done yer hamework?'
'No' says I, 'I've nane 'e nicht.
I'm awa to play ootside
File 'e day is fine an licht.'
'Gie's a look at yer hamework notebook'
'Aw, but ma, it isna here.
I gied it to same puir auld lad
Fa sellt it for a pint o beer.'
'Stop yer squawkin like a seagull,
Dinna act the silly goat.'
'Aw but ma, ye must believe me.
It wis stolen by a stoat.'
'Here it is ye lyin fox,
Maths an language, spellin tae.
Ye've still got time to get it feenished,
Then I'll let ye oot to play.'
(Whitehills School/ Gill Bowman.
Tune: Johnny Lad)
In Fitehills, in Fitehills, in Fitehills far we bide
You'll find friendly folk in Fitehills far we bide
A fisherman one Friday, he cast oot his net
He caught a bonny salmon and he kept it for a pet.
He fed it too much fish-food and it got really fat
Puir wee soul, the salmon ended up inside the cat.
One morning Caitlin Differ was frying up some eggs
His mam won't buy her sausages even when she begs.
She cooked the egg and flipped it and it landed on her head
So now she's going to use it for a Frisbee instead.
A farmer and a forester formed two football teams
The farmer took a free kick and split his trouser seams.
One laddie's feet were stoonin, his socks were full of holes
But still it didna stop him from scoring fifty goals.