The Skinny's Best Scottish Albums of the Decade

Top 20 write-ups at The Skinny website

50. Lapsus Linguae - You Got Me Fraiche
49. Funk D'Void - Volume Freak
48. Dead Or American - Ends
47. We Were Promised Jetpacks - These Four Walls
46. De Rosa - Mend
45. James Yorkston - When The Haar Rolls In
44. Camera Obscura - My Maudlin Career
43. Found - This Mess We Keep Reshaping
42. Christ. - Metamorphic Reproduction Miracle
41. Laeto - Zwoa
40. Sons & Daughters - Love The Cup
39. The Delgados - Hate
38. James Yorkston - The Year Of The Leopard
37. Y'All Is Fantasy Island - Rescue Weekend
36. Foil - Never Got Hip
35. Half Cousin - The Function Room
34. Withered Hand - Good News
33. The Beta Band - Hot Shots II
32. Butcher Boy - React Or Die
31. Half Cousin - Iodine
30. Macrocosmica - Art of the Black Earth
29. Life Without Buildings - Any Other City
28. The Phantom Band - Checkmate Savage
27. The Twilight Sad - Forget The Night Ahead
26. Mogwai - Rock Action
25. Arab Strap - The Last Romance
24. Aerogramme - My Heart Has A Wish That You Would Not Go
23. Idlewild - The Remote Part
22. Biffy Clyro - Puzzle
21. Belle & Sebastian - Dear Catastophe Waitress
20. Malcolm Middleton - Into The Woods
19. Franz Ferdinand - Franz Ferdinand
18. Uncle John & Whitelock - There Is Nothing Else
17. King Creosote - Rocket DIY
16. Meursault - Pissing On Bonfires/Kissing With Tongues
15. De Rosa - Prevention
14. Mogwai - Happy Songs For Happy People
13. Camera Obscura - Let's Get Out Of This Country
12. Arab Strap - The Red Thread
11. Aerogramme - Sleep And Release
10. Mogwai - Mr Beast
9. Boards of Canada - The Campfire Headphase
8. The Delgados - The Great Eastern
7. Arab Strap - Monday At The Hug & Pint
6. King Creosote - KC Rules OK
5. Boards of Canada - Geogaddi
4. Frightened Rabbit - The Midnight Organ Fight
3. Primal Scream - XTRMNTR
2. The Twilight Sad - Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters
1. Idlewild - 100 Broken Windows



I've seen worse lists (even though it is topped by a thoroughly unremarkable album). It doesn't exactly match mine, of course, so therefore it's incorrect. But it's not bad.

I googled to see if there was any reaction. On one forum, I read "what a shite list! Two from Mogwai, Arab Strap and King Creosote in the Top 20? What about promoting lesser known bands? It's all rather mainstream and boring for me!" On another forum, I read "what a shite list! I've not heard of any of that Top 20 except Franz Ferdinand! Where's The View, Glasvegas and Paolo Nutini? Bunch of elistist snobs!" Oh well, can't satisfy everyone. Probably can't satisfy anyone (not even Malcolm Middleton).




There are 7 (seven) albums from 2009 in there. This year has been a fantastic year for Scottish music, so in that way it shouldn't be a surprise. But in another way it's very odd, because canons take time to form, and decade lists compiled before the decade has even finished are more likely to be over-weighted in older years and under-weighted in recent years. That's very true for the Pitchfork list, the Lost At Sea list, the Stylus list. If any of these pubs do it again in a few years, it'll be more proportionate. For 7/50 records in this list to be from this year, which hasn't even finished yet, is remarkable. Even more remarkable is that those seven do not include Dananananaykroyd's incredible Hey Everyone!

This was the top ten which I submitted, which was also 2009-heavy:

1. The Twilight Sad - Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters
2. Primal Scream - XTRMNTR
3. Butcher Boy - React Or Die
4. Mogwai - Happy Songs for Happy People
5. Y'All Is Fantasy Island - Rescue Weekend
6. Boards of Canada - Geogaddi
7. Camera Obscura - My Maudlin Career
8. Franz Ferdinand - Franz Ferdinand
9. We Were Promised Jetpacks - These Four Walls
10.James Yorkston - Year of the Leopard

and even though I squeezed three 2009 albums into ten spaces, I couldn't find a space for Dananananaykroyd either! Scheisse.



It's also been pointed out to me by a mate that Kode9 is Glaswegian. That reminded me that Kevin Martin, of The Bug, was born in Paisley. If this list was not limited by geography to a country which is still very culturally homogenous, it would be criticised for itself being quite homogenous, being 95% indie-rock. In retrospect, it'd have been pretty cool if Memories Of The Future, London Zoo and Hudson Mohawke's Butter had made it, just for a bit of stylistic diversity. But (not butter) the first two are intrinsically linked with London, it would have been a bit odd to see them on a Scottish list. I wonder if they got any votes at all, just because the association is never made. And the latter (Butter) was released too late to be seriously considered - only a week or two before votes were cast.

The Twilight Sad - Forget The Night Ahead

The Twilight Sad - Forget The Night Ahead (****)
album review for the skinny

The Twilight Sad have taken on a leaner, meaner look in time for the release of their hugely anticipated second album Forget The Night Ahead. Singer James Graham and guitarist/producer Andy MacFarlane have both shaved their heads, as if two-and-a-half years of wondering how the hell to follow up their magnificent debut album has left them both ready to escape to the same institution as Britney. Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters didn’t take the Twilight Sad into the charts, but it did elevate them into an exalted position in Scottish indie rock; reams of positive press across the Atlantic, where Graham’s local brogue earned him dodgy comparisons to Groundskeeper Willie, solidified an international indie reputation. And it came out of nowhere - three tiny gigs and a low-key EP release preceded the album, which had won rave reviews from Los Angeles to Melbourne before the Kilsyth band reached Edinburgh.

Forget The Night Ahead isn’t coming out of nowhere. It’s following one of the most acclaimed Scottish albums of the young century; 30 months of touring the US, Europe and Britain in support of some pretty big bands (Smashing Pumpkins, Mogwai, Snow Patrol); and a couple of stop-gap EPs which weren’t all that satisfying. If second album syndrome really exists (and Wikipedia says it does), Forget The Night Ahead must be odds-on to show symptoms. You’ve already seen the rating above: its symptoms are mild.

Forget The Night Ahead isn't massively different from Fourteen Autumns, but it is a bit louder and noisier, and hence more intense. Both records are concerned with the possibilities of guitar noise, and how to shape feedback, reverb and other effects around otherwise unshowy, austere but emotional indie-rock. There’s a slight move towards shoegaze‘s chromic fog, but that only materialises momentarily in a few songs. Scissors is where the clearest My Bloody Valentine influence shows: their famous live ‘holocaust’ section - a twenty-minute endurance test of unfathomably loud and brittle guitar noise played as a finale during You Made Me Realise - is the basis for this three minute vocal-less interlude. Abstract echoing waves wash over Scissors’ middle, but from recent gigs it’s clear the band are most keen on the painfully rough intro and outro here.

Whereas the theme to the first seemed to be adolescent anger at neglectful domestic life (although Graham diplomatically insists otherwise), there’s no clear theme here: the lines that stand out seem significant within their own song, but don’t connect to the others. Graham’s lyrics are obliquely dark, often sung as non-sequiteurs, and full of references to stories not fully told. But he possesses an emotive vocal style which is capable of lending weight to otherwise confusing lines: “head up dear the rabbit might die” still feels like the most profound thing in the world when Graham cries it live. In new song The Room he croons “you're the grandson’s toy in the corner/ don’t tell anyone else you were seen in the cherry tree/ look what you have done.” It’s an impossible line to parse, but the sweet vocal melody excuses it. That holds true for most of the record: the standout lines are those most sweetly sung or loudly cried, and there’s plenty of room for interpretation.

The most prominent vocal on the whole album is troublesome, though. It kicks off the album’s centrepiece, Floorboards Under The Bed, a brave anti-commercial footstamp from the band. Preceded and followed by two of their most conventional indie rock songs yet, Floorboards begins with Graham singing a cappella in a reflective room: “We’ve taken all of our mistakes/ turned them into aeroplanes/ and the boy’s throwing rocks off my face”. Then harsh guitar stabs twist and slice, a piano wanders in, and the song descends into a stark instrumental anti-song, just in case you were having fun for a minute there. It’s a stunning shock and awe move, but what are we to make of those conspicuous opening lines? Do the first two parts refer to scrap paper, and therefore to playfulness, and the latter to suffering backlash or hatred? Perhaps, but that doesn’t really clear anything up.

If Forget The Night Ahead's lyrics can be cryptic, for the most part they remain on the right side of mysterious, allowing the visceral thrills of the band to dominate. That Birthday Present fades in with a ferocious momentum, guitars howling and drums racing like …Trail of Dead during their youthful vintage. First single I Became A Prostitute also begins with driving force, and is then carried by a heartbeating drum-kick into a huge anthemic chorus and a thick, loud guitarscape. Unsettling closer At The Burnside builds in with ghoulish but timid guitar squeals, before exploding in cacophonous, disastrous noise.

Like Fourteen Autumns, Forget The Night Ahead is a serious grower. There's little point in giving it just one listen - five will persuade you to persist much further. But, it's not quite a match for the debut. Why? Some of the best moments of the first album were where Graham seemed to genuinely lose his rag: like when he raged "and they’re sitting around the table, and they’re talking behind your back" on That Summer. Perhaps mindful of now having fans and therefore expectancies to meet, Graham's a little more restrained on this album, meaning we never feel the full hairdrying force of his anger. Also, the accordion was a key part of the band's sound on Fourteen Autumns, but it's missed here amid all the storms and swells of guitar.

But the Twilight Sad still pack a helluva punch: in Scissors and Floorboards Under The Bed, the group explicitly demonstrate their commitment to the anti-commercial noise aesthetic; and in I Became A Prositute, Made To Disappear, That Birthday Present, Interrupted, and The Neighbours Can't Breathe they've added a handful more powerful anthems to their catalogue. Were Forget The Night Ahead recorded by a new band, it'd be hailed as a stunning debut. Keep an eye on the Twilight Sad - this band's got some potential, by the way.

Best of 2008: #5 Y'All Is Fantasy Island - Rescue Weekend

Y'All Is Fantasy Island - Rescue Weekend (****)
album review for the skinny

Falkirk resident Adam Stafford seems to be reaching the end of his tether, as he complains, "New fans can't be swayed, promoters will not speak to me unless my profile's raised" on Rescue Weekend's title track. But that song will surely date quicker than a numbered group of revolving singletons, because Y'All Is Fantasy Island's second album confirms Stafford as one of Scotland's best young songwriters. His acoustic-led pleadings focus on murder, social depravity and failed relationships, continuing the fine tradition of Scottish miserablism so ably furthered by his hometown's favourite musical sons Arab Strap. On this evidence Falkirk's favoured-status will eventually change hands to Stafford, whose keen melodic sense brings life to every one of Rescue Weekend's ten songs. Even when he whimpers, "If I wrote my words in blood no-one would notice," the melodrama is tempered by empathy; if new fans still can't be swayed by the languid lilt of lost love lament Flowers and Flesh, the tumbling drums which add unexpected muscle to High Hopes...' gorgeous finger-picking motif, or the wailing horn solos that pierce through two further tracks, then there really would be reason to be miserable. The man Stafford has no reason to bleed yet.

Tartan Army lose perspective in McNovo debate

While I'm waiting for these results, I gots something else to say!...

A week or two ago, Nacho Novo said that he would get a British passport and play for Scotland if he was asked to. Novo is a Rangers striker who scored about 25 goals for us in a season a couple years back, and frequently plays as a striker or right-winger, but is usually actually a sub or reserve. He's about our 4th or 5th choice striker, so he's not good enough to play for Scotland. But it was an innocent comment that provoked an uproar among Scotland fans who ridiculed the idea of a Spaniard playing for the team.

That seems kinda obvious, that it would make a mockery of International football. But International football is already a joke thanks to the very lax grandparent rules which Scotland already exploits to the detriment of 'real' Scots.

Novo has lived in Scotland for eight years, got married here, had kids here, and there's a good chance he'll continue to live here when his football career finishes. That doesn't make him Scottish, but to me it does make him more Scottish than many current Scotland players, such as Jay McEveley and James Morrison, who play for us because one grandparent was born in this country. This is because of the supposed 'bloodline' rule which trumps Novo in the eyes of many Scotland fans. But what does 'bloodline' actually mean? That Scottishness is in the JMs genes? That's utter nonsense: there's no such thing as nationality in genetics; when Montenegro split from Serbia, the Montenegran geneset didn't suddenly change. Just because a JM grandparent was born on this side of the border does not mean that grandparent is Scottish, never mind that their grandchildren would be in any way Scottish.

OK, so what does it mean to be Scottish? Does it mean haggis and Irn Bru and - well, generally a poor diet - and stinginess and alcoholism and kilts and bagpipes and inventions and glorious sporting failure? Whatever it means, these are clearly all cultural things, not racial things, these are all things which are suffused into a person's character or experience through living in this country. That's what Scots have in common - we live, or have lived for a fair while, in Scotland. That's why it strikes me as bizarre that Scotland fans can be happier that the JMs play for the country - despite only being here while on Scotland duty and never through normal residency - rather than Novo, someone who knows Scottish culture on a much deeper level. Whenever Scottish nationalists make a claim for our sovereignty, it's not because we're a different race from the English, but because we have a long history of having a distinct culture as a nation. So why attempt to bring genetics into it now?

It's a multicultural world now, so this supposed 'location of birth=genetic nationality' equation is going to become even more nonsensical as mass migration increases. Here's a scenario - a migrant family from Pakistan, and another from Poland, move to Glasgow and raise their children here. The kids grow up with Glaswegian accents and have only been 'home' on short, occassional holidays. What nationality are these kids, if they turn out to be good footballers? According to the silly 'bloodline' scenario, they are clearly Pakistani and Polish, but as nationality is actually a cultural phenomena rather than a racial one, they're more accurately Scottish. Would Scotland fans tell these kids they couldn't play for the national team? Of course not. The difference is that Novo moved here as as adult, and that apparently disqualifies him. The JMs never moved here, but they qualify because of the location of an event that occurred half-a-century before they were born.

A final thing here: England are supposedly Scotland's big rivals. It's practically part of the Tartan Army constitution to hate England: not 'the English', because that would be bigoted, but 'England', the football team and the oppressive institution. Yet, we'll gladly take England cast-offs to play in our team through the grandparent 'bloodline' rule rather than a Spaniard who actually lives here. Why? Because we know that the English are actually very similar, culturally and genetically, to us, more similar than the Spanish anyway. But you wouldn't get any Scotland fan saying that, oh no! Surely if the English are our big foes, we should reject their cast-offs as just that - England cast-offs who're taking advantage of a lucky freak of their family history to further their own careers with no actual care for Scotland or its fans?

I don't want Novo to play for Scotland either, but only because he isn't good enough.

A Brief History of Scottish Music: 1978 - 2008

A Brief History of Scottish Music: 1978 - 2008
feature for the skinny student guide

(aimed at young'uns moving to this country to study)

In Scotland we like to boast about how brilliant we are at just about everything. We invented pretty much the whole modern world, including television, the telephone, antibiotics, the steam engine, and probably sliced bread and dogs and football and sex and the wheel and all that stuff too. So it’ll come as no surprise to anyone who’s been listening that we’ve also got a fandabidozy (that’s a word invented by an old Scottish woman dressed as a young boy to mean “excellent”) history when it comes to modern music: we just about invented that too. And we’re not even going to mention people like David Byrne, Talking Heads frontman, who was born in Dumbarton; or Bon Scott and the Young brothers, of AC/DC, who were all born here; or Donovan, who was born in Glasgow; or Bert Jansch or John Martyn, or Mike Scott or Alex Harvey. We certainly won’t be mentioning the Bay City Rollers either, for different and obvious reasons. We don’t have to. Instead The Skinny Student Handbook presents a brief look back at the last 30 years of Scottish alternative music, from the 70s heyday of punk, to the beginning of last week.

Scotland has never been as culturally mixed as cities down south or in the States; you don’t get much in the way of good hip-hop or dub coming from these shores. We do a few things well, but we do them very well. Punk’s mid-70s explosion changed the game for anyone wielding a guitar, and Scottish bands were quick to adjust. Glaswegian label Postcard crammed a frankly silly amount of great music into their short lifespan, but it was in the 80s when Scotland’s first truly great bands arrived. The Jesus & Mary Chain and the Cocteau Twins made an impact with alternative music lovers worldwide, and Primal Scream’s seminal 1991 acid house voyage Screamadelica is rightly considered a timeless classic. They’ve had their ups-and-downs since, but that’s allowed other great bands to come to the fore. Belle and Sebastian annoy twee-haters, but their fans know they offer far more depth than that casual dismissal accounts for. They’ve since been voted Scotland’s greatest ever group, and who are we to argue? Well, another contender would certainly be Mogwai, who emerged thanks to another great Glaswegian label, Chemikal Underground, in the mid-90s. As we arrived in this millenium, Franz Ferdinand became global pop stars, and it remains to be seen whether Glasvegas have the momentum behind them to do similarly.

Any skinflints skimming the timeline will see that several key Scottish bands burned out or faded away very quickly, meaning their recorded legacy is sweet but very short. All three Postcard bands listed here are covered well by one-disc compilations, as are The Skids, Lowlife, the Vaselines, the Rezillos, and arguably the Beta Band. So take our advice and give them a shot if you don’t know them already. Elsewhere, the Cocteaus, Belle and Seb, and Mogwai will require a lot more of your time and money, but they’ll pay dividends.*

Obviously, because we Scots invented this music shit, there’s a lot more out there beyond this handful of picks. I hadn’t even written this yet and my flatmates were complaining: what about Aztec Camera? What about Long Fin Killie? What about Doing The Dishes? (yeah OK, that was about something else). Well, that’s where The Skinny will help you out. We’re always on the lookout for new talent, and reminding our readers about all the great music that’s already out there in this fair nation. We try to be modest, but we’re actually quite brilliant at it.

LATE 70s
The Rezillos
Campy glam-rockers who were swept up with all the excitement of punk. Like the Ramones, yet both smarter and sillier, Can’t Stand The Rezillos was their one and only album.

The Skids
New wave band from Dunfermline which featured Stuart Adamson. More from him later: in the meantime check out Sweet Suburbia, which includes the classic singles Into the Valley and The Saints Are Coming.

POSTCARD
Josef K
Kings of Edinburgh post-punk, with jerky angled rhythms and guitars splashing all over the place like splaying hi-hats. Check out the Paul Morley-compiled Entomology for an overview.

Orange Juice
Edwyn Collins’ genius post-punk group from Glasgow, who got a Top 10 hit with Rip It Up (And Start Again), and were one of the formative groups of all indie-pop. The Glasgow School’s a good starting point.

The Fire Engines
Really undervalued wiry post-punk band from Edinburgh. Another recent compilation Hungry Beat goes over the main points of a band that barely even attracted a cult following, but should’ve done.

EAST KILBRIDE(!)
The Jesus & Mary Chain
Famed for hiding sugar pop melodies under overdriven, feedback-drenched guitars, the Mary Chain’s greatest album Psychocandy was an important forerunner to shoegaze and grunge. Bobby Gillespie was the original drummer, before he went on to found…

Primal Scream
From the Andrew Weatherall-produced acid house classic Screamadelica, to the dub-inflected Vanishing Point, to the naked aggression of XTRMNTR, Primal Scream have looked dapper in lots of different outfits. They don’t always hit the mark, but those three albums alone make them one of Scotland’s greatest ever bands.

DREAM POP
Cocteau Twins
The Cocteaus are to dream pop what Nirvana are to grunge. From Grangemouth, near Edinburgh, check out Treasure and Heaven Or Las Vegas for Liz Fraser’s melismatic mewl and the celestial guitar swathes that surround it.

Lowlife
Cocteaus-offshoot formed by former Twins bassist Will Heggie. Would it be silly to call dream pop that’s a little darker “nightmare pop”? A recent compilation, Eternity Road, is a great summation.

SONGS IN THE KEY OF FIFE
The Beta Band
Fife’s never really recovered from the effortlessly surreal genius of the Beta Band. Their earliest work, compiled on The Three EPs, is marvellously batty and seductively tuneful.

The Fence Collective
Collective of contemporary folk musicians based in Fife, featuring an amorphous cast of ex-Beta Band members, King Creosote, Lone Pigeon, James Yorkston, and just about any decent singer-songwriter in the land.

INDIE-POP
The Vaselines
Kurt Cobain’s favourite band should be one of yours too. Downright silly and completely loveable indie-pop, covered perfectly on The Way of the Vaselines compilation. Reformed this year, so keep an eye out for any gigs.

Teenage Fanclub
The so-called Fabulous Fannies sound a bit like the Byrds, and a bit like the Beach Boys, but they come fae Belshill. With eight solid albums so far, Bandwagonesque or Grand Prix are probably the highlights.

Belle and Sebastian
Belle & Seb shocked everyone when they won a Best Newcomer at the BRIT Awards: it was the first decent band the BRITs had ever seen. If You’re Feeling Sinister, and the EPs collection Push Barman to Open Old Wounds, are both essential.

CHEMIKAL UNDERGROUND
Mogwai
The ultimate post-rock band. Not bothering with normal pop music structures, they start quiet and get very loud and then quieten down again. OK, so there’s more to it than that, but it’s beautifully done.

The Delgados
The Chemikal Underground founders also knew how to make a right racket, but they wrapped more-or-less conventional indie-pop structures around the bluster. Check out Emma Pollock and Alun Woodward’s contrasting vocals on The Great Eastern, or Hate.

Arab Strap
Frontman Aidan Moffat is a thoroughly modern poet with an old-fashioned romantic heart. Assisted by Malcolm Middleton before their split in 2006, Arab Strap are often casually called miserablists, but can also be hilarious and uplifting.

ARE WE TAKING THE PISS?
The Proclaimers
According to the Da Da Da Da (Scotland) Act 1999, citizens of this country are required to have the lyrics of 500 Miles tatooed on their inner eyelids so that we may never miss an opportunity to triumphantly bellow it into the night.

Big Country
Remember Stuart Adamson? His new band became a huge, international success, with rock heavily influenced by traditional Scottish sounds like bagpipes and fiddles. Great band, actually.

Runrig
We’re joking now, right?


WERE THEY TAKING THE PISS?
The KLF
Famously burned a million pounds in cash as a publicity stunt. Yeah yeah, but also – wrote a book, The Manual, about how to have a No.1 hit single and then had one (Doctorin’ the Tardis as The Timelords), dumped a dead sheep at the BRIT Awards, and pioneered ambient house. We’d love to say all that other stuff shouldn’t overshadow the music, but all that other stuff was brilliant.

APHEX WHO?
Boards of Canada
One of the most beloved ambient electronica groups in the world. Music Has The Right To Children and Geogaddi, in particular, are stunningly gorgeous examples of what can be done with a little creative maneouvring of field recordings.

THE SPIRIT OF POSTCARD RETURNS, GETS POPULAR
Franz Ferdinand
Franz presented a challenge to high-minded rock fans to appreciate derivative pop-rock that was unashamedly aimed at the hips. Also, they presented a challenge to history teachers when they became better known than that Archduke fella who fought in the war or somesuch.

THE NEW BREED
The Twilight Sad
2007’s fiery debut album Fourteen Autumns, Fifteen Winters was The Skinny’s Album of the Year. The follow-up album is due out very soon and we can hardly wait.

Frightened Rabbit
Labelmates of the Twilight Sad on Fat Cat, 2007’s Sing The Greys was a solid if largely unremarked upon indie-rock record, but this year’s Midnight Organ Fight blew it away. One of the albums of the year, and definitely one of Scotland’s best new bands.

Glasvegas
The biggest new band in Scotland. The Skinny’s been on their tail since last year, but the debut album just came out this month. Remember those Mary Chain guitars? Just add epic emotional tales in strong local accents, and you’ve got anthems to fill Sauchiehall Street for the next three thousand weekends.

Scotland Appoint George Burley As National Boss

Football article for Blogcritics.org

The Scottish FA announced yesterday that George Burley would take over as national team manager. The move comes two months after the departure of Alex McLeish, who left to join Premiership club Birmingham City. Burley was chosen from a shortlist of five drawn up by the SFA, which also included former Derby boss Billy Davies, Motherwell's Mark McGhee, Celtic coach Tommy Burns, and Graeme Souness, whose biggest managerial success was with Rangers in the late 80s/early 90s.

Burley joins from English Championship (formerly First Division) club Southampton, with whom he'd been struggling to progress. As a player (mostly for Ipswich Town), he earned 11 Scotland caps before moving into management with Ayr United in 1991. By 1994 he had returned to the club where he had played for most of his career, eventually taking Ipswich to three promotion play-offs and the holy land of the Premiership in 2000. His first season in the top tier was an incredible success, as he took the small Suffolk club to fifth in the league and earned the Manager of the Year Award. However, they weren't able to sustain the success and were relegated the following season. In 2003 Burley took over at First Division Derby County and managed to save them from impending relegation. They struggled the following season, but a marked improvement in 04/05 saw them finish fourth in the table, just missing out on promotion through the play-offs. But behind-the-scenes issues made Burley's job untenable and he quit in June 2005, before taking over at Hearts.

Recent history was to repeat itself as Burley lasted just four months at Hearts before quitting due to interference from club owner Vladimir Romanov. His departure was galling for Hearts fans - and for neutral Scottish football fans - who had watched Burley compile a team that looked well capable of breaking the Old Firm's dominance by winning the Scottish Premier League. Hearts fans have struggled to forgive Romanov for forcing Burley out ever since.

Burley took over at Southampton shortly afterwards, and consolidated their position in the Championship despite substantial unrest at the club. In 2006/07, Burley led his side to the play-off places again, without success. Recently, Southampton have had to sell many of their key players, including Theo Walcott, Gareth Bale, and Chris Baird. Burley hasn't been able to adequately replace them, meaning the club has been struggling to put together consistent form and are hovering in the middle of the table.

Most Scotland fans I have spoken to are fairly happy with the news. Despite what some newspaper columnists are saying, the fans didn't want Souness or Burns to take over. Souness' entire reputation is built on his success at Rangers, but he had millions of pounds to spend to take a big team to success in a small league, and since then has failed with bigger challenges. Newcastle fans in particular are incapable of speaking of Souness without exploding into an abusive rage, such was his reputation at that club. Tommy Burns did reasonably well for Celtic in the mid-90s, but his rep is tarred by association as he was the Assistant Manager during Bertie Vogts' disastrous reign. In his one and only game as Scotland boss - following Vogts' dismissal - he presided over an inept performance and a 4-1 home defeat to Sweden.

Billy Davies ruled himself out early in the process, as he wants his next job to be in club football. The other serious candidate, who appeared to be the slight favourite with most fans, was Motherwell manager Mark McGhee. In England he had won two titles and two further promotions in the lower leagues, though had also suffered relegation as Brighton manager. But his supporters were mostly impressed by the turnaround he has inspired in Motherwell this season: a team that was flirting with relegation last season is playing attacking, expressive football this season, and are sure to finish in the top 6. The shock death of team captain Phil O'Donnell one month ago made his situation at Motherwell difficult: he has since developed such a connection with the club that he insisted he wouldn't leave before the end of the season, even if Scotland did come calling. Perhaps it was this admirable resolve which swung the balance in Burley's favour in the end.

Although Scotland have no competitive games until the autumn, they are due to play a home friendly against Croatia in March.

McLeish Leaves For Birmingham, Scots Face Uncertainty

Football report for Blogcritics

Scotland became the second British nation within a week to lose their football manager yesterday, after Alex McLeish (known to the fans as "Eck") resigned from his position to take the top job at Birmingham City. Whereas the English FA sacked Steve McLaren because of his incompetence, the Scottish FA desperately wanted to hold on to Eck after the stunning progress the Scotland team made under his guidance. Unfortunately for Scotland, that success just led to covetous glances from others, and ultimately the money and glamour of the English Premiership was able to woo Eck away from the job leading his country. That is hardly surprising if Eck's £400,000 per year salary will be quadrupled by Birmingham, as reports suggest. McLeish told the BBC today: “I absolutely loved my time as coach of the national team, but… I have always harboured a desire to manage in the Premier League and I am really excited about the challenge”.

While Birmingham City fans can feel excited about the prospect of Eck's arrival, for Scottish fans the news marks another period of soul-searching and uncertainty. It is the second time in a year that a successful Scotland manager has left the job to return to club football; Walter Smith quit to re-join Rangers back in January. Smith had turned the team's fortunes around after the disastrous reign of Berti Vogts, even leading Scotland to a famous victory over France. Incredibly, the team did not suffer from a change in management after Smith left, as Eck took charge and led the Scottish team to another famous win against the French. Although the team failed to qualify for the European Championships in the end, their ascent to 14th in the FIFA World Rankings was noted across the footballing world. The Scottish FA now face the difficult task of appointing a replacement with the nous to maintain the current squad's level of over-performance.

So who are the candidates? At the time of writing there is no obvious choice, with different bookmakers choosing their own favourites. Billy Davies, who was fired by Premiership strugglers Derby on Monday, is a front-runner who has already declared himself interested. Dundee United manager Craig Levein is highly thought-of, as is Hibs boss John Collins. Former national team captain Gary McAllister is also widely-tipped as a candidate, despite having no top-level coaching experience. Kilmarnock's Jim Jefferies, and Southampton boss George Burley, are also in contention.

Less realistic options include Manchester United boss Sir Alex Ferguson, Everton manager David Moyes, and former Chelsea manager Jose Mourinho. The departures of Smith and McLeish have illustrated that club management is far more appealing than national management to ambitious bosses. Ferguson and Moyes are proud Scots, but neither would leave their current clubs. Mourinho is a dream candidate for any management position in the world; he is unlikely to choose Scotland above all else.

A Scots' worst nightmare would see Steve McClaren in the running. Even at odds of 50/1, he's not a wise investment – it's never going to happen. Don't be surprised to see the Scottish FA appoint a 'management team', pairing an older man like Craig Brown or Joe Jordan alongside a rookie like McAllister or Collins. With Scotland out of competitive action until next September, there's plenty of time to make a decision.

Economic dilemmas in football

While I'm here and discussing Italian footballers, I have to recommend a blog I read several times a week - Football Is Fixed. The writer is a betting markets analyst who insists that corruption is rife throughout football and that matches are regularly fixed for economic reasons. This doesn't just happen in Italy, where match-fixing has been exposed and punished - apparently Asian betting markets are worth hundreds-of-millions of pounds for each and every Premiership game, and these markets have a huge impact on what happens during each match in terms of the performance of the referee, or the performances of other key individuals (goalkeepers usually). Transfer irregularities are also rife, he insists. I'm not convinced on 100% of it, but a lot of what he says makes sense.

For example, it does strike me as odd that everybody knows about widespread performance enhancing drug use in cycling and athletics, but it's rarely mentioned in relation to football. Considering the vast sums of money in football now (dwarfing cycling and athletics), the incentives for seeking to gain such an edge are far greater. The same basic truth applies to match-fixing. Again, I think everyone knows that it is rife within cricket (as the murder - sorry, the accident! of course it was an accident! - of Bob Woolmer demonstrates) . The sums of money involved in football are so massive that it seems naive to believe that nothing of the sort takes place in moneyed-leagues like the Premiership, or in international competition. Why are characters like Gaydamak and Shinawatra buying up English football clubs, when every fan knows that the quickest way to lose a lot of money is to put it into football? Are there hidden revenue streams that we don't know about?

What always concerned me about the Scotland-Italy game is that there was only one result that UEFA wanted - an Italy victory. The value of the European Championships as a television spectacle is vastly increased by the presence of Italy rather than a small, unglamorous nation like Scotland. Not only does Italy have 10x more TV viewers than Scotland, but more neutral fans would tune in to see Italy play than Scotland, meaning advertising can be sold for a lot more. We're probably talking tens-of-millions of pounds here - is that not enough of an incentive to have a quick word in the referee's ear? When the governing body of a game has a strong vested interest in the outcome, how can we possibly be sure that the game is in fact meritocratic?

McFadden's post-game comments were enlightening as to his views on the matter:
"After all the hard work, we've been absolutely robbed by the referee. I think he was shocking. Coming from the Ukraine game, people didn't want us to qualify and they've got what they wanted."

Whoever could these "people" be that he's talking about?

Scotland 1 - 2 Italy

I was planning to watch the Scotland-Italy game in the Tennents bar in the West End of Glasgow, but not long after getting there I got a last-minute offer of a ticket to Party On The Green. This was the giant marquee erected on Glasgow Green with 8 gigantic screens inside, a stage with bands and dancers and stuff, and 7000 very drunken Scotsmen. How could I say no? The £12 tickets sold out last week in 3 minutes and were going for £80 on eBay - I tagged along with my oldest pal Alan, his gf Angela, and his flatmate Stevie.

7000 drunken and over-excited Scotsmen do not disappoint. The atmosphere was incredible, helped somewhat by the on-stage performers: firstly, a band of big beefy men, wearing nothing but kilts and wild faces, with long straggly hair and unkempt bears, blowing bagpipes and banging drums with all their might. These are men who devour porridge and whiskey for breakfast, and wrestle bears and Englishmen for fun. We sang Flower of Scotland and 500 Miles and that bloody Chelsea Dagger...and 70 seconds in to the game, it all went tits up.

We'd been asking for it! Imagine erecting a 7000 capacity bar on Glasgow Green for the game! Imagine planning a fireworks show and three post-match bands to celebrate with! Imagine the Daily Record devoting 20+ pages to the match for 6 days straight! When the game kicked off, the players who had been dreaming all week about the upcoming game-of-their-lives were still dreaming, and Italy punished us. Hutton, Brown and Fletcher stood motionless on the right flank, Weir lost Di Natale and McManus gave Toni too much room = 1-0 to Italy.

Gradually we got back into the game, but teams like Italy always do this: take an early lead, and then allow the other team to have possession. It gives us false confidence, because we think we're playing well. We only had so much of the ball because Italy were content, being 1-0 up already. At half-time I rushed to the bar, and didn't get back to the match until there was 20 minutes left.

Alan had taken an hour to get the first round in, and missed the first 15 minutes of the game (well, seen them on small screens from a distance). There were plenty of bar staff, none of whom looked like they had ever been in a bar before. Admittedly, it must be tough to get staff to work on a day like that, but it seemed like they only had WRVS ladies and foreigners: both groups who are going to struggle to understand steamin' Weegies barking orders at them. Still, most folk in the queue were in good spirits and we had a laugh. I didn't really see Ferguson's goal - on wee tellies, from afar - and didn't even know who had scored until people started singing "Oh Barry Barry!" - but the celebrations were wild, of course: everyone hugging and kissing everyone else, screaming and jumping, drinks flying, star-jumps, aerobic leaps, and primal screams. Stevie and I got back with the drinks in time to see a bit of Scottish pressure, and McFadden's glaring miss which instantly made me think of Gazza's v Germany at Euro 96 - the cross was just too fast for him to wrap his foot around the ball and keep the shot under control (or you could say he was an inch too slow in getting to the cross). The sucker-punch came in injury-time - a scandalous free-kick decision (it was a free-kick to Scotland, not Italy!) - but worse than that, our non-existent defending which allowed Panucci to rise unmarked at the far-post for a free header. All was not lost at 1-1, we would still have had a hope of qualifying, yet the defenders switched off. For Scotland, the first 90 seconds and the last 90 seconds undid the entire 90 minutes of good work in-between.

People walked. Instantly, the tent ejected dejected fans into the pouring rain. We stayed. A press photographer saw me sulking and went to take a photo - not wanting to be The Face Of Gutted Scotland in the papers, I obscured the shot with my pint glass. We watched the three covers bands trying to cheer up the hundred-odd fans that remained dry. We watched the entirely inappropriate fireworks show. We went back to Paisley and I won £20 on the karaoke. If there's one thing Scottish football fans can do, it's accept a glorious failure. Life goes on.