Perhaps not quite a score of years has passed but the wisdom of the late Mr Stuart Adamson remains a constant. The words of Inwards ring aloud, a poignant tale of loss and heartache of returning home to the passing away of someone so close.
The ache of longing of hope and of youth seems a distant memory that fades as blooms wither and leaves are shed. The spellings books are indeed in arrears as we reflect on this time.
Many of us return to the guiding hand of the late Mr Adamson and Big Country. At a time in our lives when we question the past and the burning light flickers in the wind of change let us recall how those beautiful songs captured our imagination spoke to us in ways that we never could foresee. Without doubt they reflected a beloved landscape held so dear by Mr Adamson and the band. A unique sound that took its inspiration from that great land and traditional storytelling. It never failed to inspire and offer strength, to accept ourselves and offer the hand of friendship to others.
The late Mr Adamson sang of injustice and suffering of hardship and pride. He captured the struggles of those in the townships with a brilliant song so powerful and honest. So telling given the tragic loss of a great leader in South Africa.
So now I look around me
I see where you were wrong
the tears that flow for equal rights
have fallen far too long.
Today you may reflect of the countless times you have sang those songs so loved and cherished by us all. Their meanings gather no dust today. They are part of our heritage and pride. They speak to us all and serve as a reminder of a past age. It was a time so far removed from the modern electronic age of instant demand and style. Mr Adamson’s view of the world and his heritage reflects brilliance and loyalty to his people and culture. In many it sparked a love for Alba its beautiful language and music.
Tonight let us rejoice again his brilliance pride. It may well grow from hardship but we are not alone. All of us should rejoice in his music. It is the fire across the mountain side.
Bad weather gathers all along the coast
When the storm clouds gather and my blood runs cold
If we can’t go further when we get to the shore
Then we have to turn around and fight some more
By Anis Waiz