Run For Home: Collected (1997)

The booklet contains a well done history-story about Lindisfarne from Michael Heatley:

When, in late 1990, Newcastle folk-rock giants Lindisfarne made one last bid for the Number 1 spot by backing local soccer superstar Paul 'Gazza' Gascoigne in a rap version of their signature tune 'Fog on the Tyne', you could hear the critics sucking in their breath. Yet the band named after Northumberland's mystic 'Holy Isle' had never given a damn for the critics; they were a people's band, pure, simple, and game for more or less anything. Being precious about their heritage just wasn't their style.

We haven't included Gazza's tearjerking rendition on this compilation, preferring a live version of 'Fog' from 1984 which features fans, not footballers, on backing vocal duties. But our selections, which range from the band's reformation album "Back and Fourth" in 1978 to "Elvis lives on the moon", their last studio album before the death of songwriter Alan Hull in 1995, all demonstrate at least one aspect of Lindisfarne's appeal.

They'd formed when folksinger Hull, who'd cut his teeth with local group the Chosen Few, joined four members of the R&B-styled Downtown Faction, back in 1969. Re-named Brethren, then Lindisfarne, they'd disbanded just five years later ... yet couldn't stay apart. A series of Christmas reunion concerts that filled the City Hall [of Newcastle] several times over in 1976 and 1977 rekindled the magic that had made them successors to the Animals as the north-east's premier supergroup and persuaded them to give fulltime fame another try.

Their first album, 1970's "Nicely out of tune" had contained a Top 3 single in the mandolin-laced 'Lady Eleanor', but both remained little-heard until 'Meet Me On The Corner' hit Number 5 in 1972 - and that in turn pushed the band's second LP, 'Fog On The Tyne', to top spot. Lindisfarne owed their surprise success to the goodtime spirit they brought to festivals at Lincoln, Weely and Reading during the year as well as a ceaseless touring schedule that criss-crossed the country, playing town halls and colleges with Charisma labelmates Van Der Graaf Generator and the then-unknown Genesis in support.

It was on stage where they really came alive, singalongs being led by Ray Jackson's harmonica while the rhythm section of drummer Ray Laidlaw and bassist Rod Clements laid down a rock-steady beat. Guitarists Simon Cowe and Alan Hull completed the line-up, the latter supplying the majority of the repertoire. As history and this album demonstrates, his output undoubtedly bears comparison with any British singer-songwriter of the era. When the decision was made to re-form, there was no thought of living on past glories. 'It had to be on the basis of new material, not a revivalist-type thing,' drummer Laidlaw insisted. Another hit single was the icing on the cake: experienced producer Gus Dudgeon who'd been brought in to supervise 'Back And Fourth', recalled 'Run For Home' as one of only two songs (the other being Chris Rea's 'On The Beach') he knew were chart certs the moment he heard it.

But if you're a lapsed Lindisfarne fan who bought this album on impulse, the sheer variety and vitality of the 1978-93 catalogue will surely astound you. Seven albums plus two live offerings more than doubled the original band's output: the first, punningly-titled 'Back And Fourth', contrasted highly commercial songs like 'Juke Box Gypsy' (a minor hit following 'Run For Home's Number 10 success) with the biting 'Marshall Riley's Army', returning to Hull's favoured theme of social protest against the powers-that-be that had, over past decades, laid waste his beloved Newcastle.

After two rare single sides from 1978, 'When It Gets The Hardest' and 'Brand New Day', comes an unexpected treat: 'Good To Be Here ?', a bizarrely surreal dream sequence from the usual down-to-earth Hull that's reminiscent of Procol Harum's 'A Salty Dog' from a decade earlier. This closed 1979's 'The News' - and that ended Lindisfarne's major-label career. Future releases would be via River City, Black Crow and the band's own LMP labels, while a brief link with Stylus led to a TV-advertised album of party covers, 'C'Mon Everybody', that was either funny of forgettable.

Come 1986, Hull was back on familiar territory as 'Dance Your Life Away', its cover depicting a ballerina among the disused Tyneside cranes, returned to the theme of industrial ruin and social deprivation, while 1989's 'Amigos' was the last studio album to feature the harmonica and mandolin of Ray Jackson. His place would be taken by musician-actor Brendan Healy, while a couple of backing singers were also added. But singer-saxophonist Marty Craggs, who first played with the band in '84 and was confirmed as a full member in 1986, proved the only permanent addition. 'Elvis Lives On The Moon' contained several songs with a perspective beyond that of Tyne and Wear.. One was 'Mother Russia', written after Lindisfarne played a benefit concert behind the former Iron Curtain, while another -'Day Of The Jackal', featured here- lamented the continuing turmoil in the middle east. While Alan Hull's worldview had widened his songwriting pen clearly remained sharp. His career with the band ended on a high too, playing a 25th anniversary gig at the City Hall in 1995 that would result in yet another live album and video.

So Lindisfarne had enjoyed three careers: from colleges to the charts with hit singles, the re-formed outfit and as Gazza's backing band (though a Righteous Brothers revival stopped the revamped 'Fog' reaching the Number 1 spot). There would be a fourth bite of the cherry, too, as they played on unplugged into a post-Hull era. 'He will be sadly missed,' said Ray Laidlaw in a statement to the Newcastle papers, 'but he would definitely have wanted us to keep on playing. Alan would have wanted people to celebrate through his music.'

Hull's early career as a psychiatric nurse, plus as many gloomy songs as beery anthems in his repertoire, sometimes saw him portrayed as a pessimist. Yet that was way off the mark: despite a shot of healthy cynicism there was always hope somewehre to be found in a Hull song.

'As long as people go home happy then I do,'

was how he summed up his live philosophy. So leave the crying to Gazza - and let Lindisfarne make you smile ...

Michael Heatley