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’m watching a bird disappear into a crimson sunset, and my mind goes back 40 years to waterskiing in the setting sun (after the clients) in the bay of Campesi (on the island of Isola del Giglio in Italy). The girls would come down from the hills and wave coloured handkerchiefs. When I left the island, they painted “Ciao Nick” in huge letters on the cliff face.
Last year I worked as Father Christmas (there were 15 of us), and in the summer I was in a pub staring at a rough-looking guy, and he swung on me.
“What you looking at?”
“Father Christmas.”
And he gave me the biggest grin I’ve ever seen.
To be honest, I’ve nothing much left to say except thank you for reading if you’re still there. And thank you for listening if you’ve got the album.
