In 1969 Nick Garrie recorded The Nightmare Of J.B. Stanisla, a lush folk/pop album. When collectors discovered it in the ’80s, it began fetching astronomical sums, and it was eventually reissued on CD in 2005. Garrie’s life in obscurity has too many twists to recount, but includes two albums as Nick Hamilton and an opening spot on a Leonard Cohen tour in 1984. The Moon And The Village (Tapete), Garrie’s first release in 23 years, is another subtle charmer. His mellow vocals are supported by arrangements that let his stories glow with a warm inner light. Garrie will be guest editing magnetmagazine.com all week.
Garrie: I was not Paul McCartney’s ski instructor as I read online, but I did meet him when I was running my ski club in the Swiss Alps. I had a restaurant reserved for my school clients, but half were missing when I turned up.
“Where are the rest of you?”
“With Paul McCartney.”
“Rubbish.”
I set off and found him chatting to the girls.
“You must be Nick,” he said.
“How do you know?” I answered kind of hoping he’d heard one of my songs.
“I asked the girls who they were skiing with, and they said, ‘Nick.'”
I explained to him that we were doing a torchlit run that night and there’d be music, maybe one of his songs.
“Which one?” he said.
“‘Baby’s Request.'”
“Good. I’ll come up. I’ve never heard anybody play that.”
Suddenly out of the mist, Mrs. McCartney loomed up. “Come on, Paul. We’re going back to Gstaad.”
A rueful grin. “Sorry, mate.”
Ships in the night, and I never got to thank him from the bottom of my heart for all the beautiful songs he’s given us.
