I spent my early life moving from town to town. My father was itinerant gambler and my mother had been a show dancer. She ran off with the trumpet player in the band and left me and the old man to fend for ourselves. I spent most of my time on my own, as I was never in one place long enough to make any real friends. It was round about this time I first picked up the guitar. The more I got into it, the more it made sense. I was hooked and nothing else mattered. I started playing other people's songs, but I soon realised that I had a voice of my own, so I started using it. I woke up one morning and my old man had moved on, I didn't really care, I had outgrown him anyway. I started busking for beer money and food and pretty soon I got a regular crowd that came to see me. Like my old man though, I couldn't stay in one place for very long, so, I travelled round Europe doing this. I spent time in Prague, Paris, Rome, London and countless other cities, busking and playing in small clubs. Living in hostels, living rough, or couch surfing with anyone that would let me. My songs are about my life, so my songs are about me, in fact they are me. 

 

Singer/songwriter Bobby Deans.

Playing a nylon stringed guitar he was at his best on a song about the homeless called No Rest with some nice key changes and a refreshing lack of polemic. An engaging character he was brave enough to sing a song about his own past and his mother whom he never knew which was delivered in a restrained fashion until the end when he was wailing away at the ghosts he had conjured up.

Paul Kerr

Blabber 'n' Smoke

A Glasgow view of Americana and related music and writings.