I was reading @epodcaster's post in @NaPodPoMo and smiling at her learning what a 'piece' is in Scottish vernacular.
That soon led to a small earworm rattling round my head in the form of the The Jeely Piece Song. I had to go and listen to it in full because it's a great listen, and in such a small song the writer, Adam McNaughton, gives us history and social commentary in a way which will bypass many of us listening.
I'f you've clicked on the link above and listend to Matt McGinn's rendition then the chances are you're wondering what it's all about.
Well, firstly, the song is written in Glaswegian vernacular. This is somewhere between Scots and English which allows for a fair amount of comprehension especially as the meaning of unrecognised words may be inferred from context.
However, we'll try explain exactly what is going on.
Firstly, the setting. Castlemilk is south and a little east of the city center. It's the only place I've ever seen a shop advertising bread and milk being available 'on tick', that is payable when you have the money - this is an informal credit system and that it can be used for such basic staples testifies to the financial difficulties of the area, even now.
Back in the fifties it was a place of new developments with homes that had such delights as indoor plumbing and central heating. The families moving in came from old tenemant buildings which had neither, but plenty of rodent infestation. Tenemant buildings were traditionally no more than 3 or 4 stories high, while the new towerblocks went as high as 22 floors.
In verse one the child (wean) tells us they live on the 19th floor and will no longer be going out to play, as they're missing out on a meal.
The chorus tells us why.
In the old tenemants a mother would make up a sandwich, a piece, and throw it from the window down to their playing child. This would traditionaly be after school, but before the evening meal when dad got in from work. Large groups of children would gather to raucously unwind from the school day. Some pieces would just have butter on, others cheese, and sometimes 'jeely', or jam.
In Scotland there are two basic types of breed (bread), Plain, or Pan, which describes how they are baked. Pan is the type most folks are familiar with as it's the sort of loaf most of us will generally recognise. A plain loaf is a denser bread, and fantastic for toast.
A Plain Breed Accent was a descriptor for someone who lived in a posher part of town, like Kelvinside. So the addition of it in the song is more to allow the internal harmony than what was likely to be flung down to a waiting child, in my opinion.
However, as our child opines, the odds of a piece thrown down from the 19th floor reaching it's target are 99-to-1.
In Verse Two a third bread option arrives. Maw, mum, has used brown bread from Hovis, a brand in the UK. Caught in an updraught it rises so high, it becomes a satellite.
In Verse Three maw throws another piece, which sticks to the cockpit window of an admittedly low flying plane. The pilot's message to base is a direct call to part of Glasgow political history. The Clydeside Reds belong to a period in the early 20th century when militant activism spread along the banks of the Clyde river and led to strikes on working conditions and rent, amongst other issues.
Many of the people who were moved to Castlemilk came from the Gorbals, at the heart of Clydeside Red country. By the 1950's the activism was mostly limited to voting for Labour but memories of more direct action were still very much part of the cities fabric.
In Verse Four a third attempt sees a piece with marmalade fall into the horn of a Salvation Army tuba, or euphonium, player.
In the final verse the local youths have banded together. First they are writing to OXFAM, a charity founded to bring relief from hunger. Next they claim to have formed a piece-brigade, which is a wonderful play on words and again calls back to Red Clydeside and the Peace Crusades of World War One. Line three tells us they'll head to George's Square, a scene of many a political rally in the city, where they will demand, in line 4, no more houses built above a height that a sandwich can safely be thrown from.
It took some time for the children's demand to be fulfilled. Here's The Thing, some of these weans grew up and became part of the fabric of the city, leading the drive to make the change they'd desired. The majority of tower blocks in Castlemilk were removed in the 90's and 00's. Today smaller apartment blocks, or terraced and semi-detached homes are the larger proportion of housing stock.
Sadly, many in the city, still suffer from states of deprivation which a move from Gorbal slum tenemants to modern housing was meant to be alleviating.
words and header by stuartcturnbull. header created in Canva