Why Billy Connolly is the most underrated folk singer in the world
He may have built a career being the windswept and interesting genius of comedy, but let’s not forget the very different roots of where Billy Connolly really began.
Growing up in the tenement flats of Glasgow, he originally dreamed of becoming a folk singer, and set out on that road long before the gleaming lights of stand-up ever came calling. He did so successfully, with a number of albums under his belt, and the occasional revisit to his origins throughout his comedy tenure, but in everything he did, that sentiment of championing the everyman never faded.
Although it was early rock and roll icons such as Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee Lewis who ignited his musical passions as a 15-year-old schoolboy, it wasn’t until later, when Connolly was already working in Glasgow’s then-famous shipyards, that the allure of the folk scene truly began to enamour him. Having watched the seminal sitcom The Beverly Hillbillies, he picked up his first-ever banjo at the city’s Barras market, and the rest is history.
Of course, to outsiders, Glasgow seems like the toughest and most impenetrable of places. But only those on the inside understand the enchantment of its magic, and by sheer virtue of his now owning his banjo, Connolly instantly came into the fold of the small folk scene, whose admittedly limited sights still spawned some legendary exports.
It was in places like the Scotia Bar and the Glasgow Folk Club where Connolly made the initial name for himself, soon joining The Humblebums with Tam Harvey and Gerry Rafferty. That venture marked the height of his folk career, being signed to Transatlantic Records and releasing three albums. But by 1971, the band had broken up for Rafferty to go and conquer the world with Stealers Wheel, so Connolly returned to the local performing circuit, except he began to introduce his songs with introductions that increasingly resembled stand-up comedy. We all know what happened from there.
But in many ways, Connolly’s folk career came to be seen as a precursor to his comedy prime, rather than an extension of it. The fusion of the two was something he experimented with regularly in performances, yet it still remained that his musical talents went mostly underappreciated, and often still do. But looking past the iconic image of the man, and all that we have become accustomed to with his persona, there’s a real tenderness and heart to his songs that may be more unassuming.
It spoke volumes that tunes like ‘The Welly Boot Song’ and ‘DIVORCE’ went on to become such pillars of Connolly’s routines when they were so heavily rooted in his folk influences, but it was ‘I Wish I Was in Glasgow’, released in 1983 from his album A Change is as Good as Arrest which demonstrated this in its prime.
For all the Big Yin has mastered the art of making us laugh, play that opening verse to any Glaswegian, where he sings: “I wish I was in Glasgow/ With some good old friends of mine/ Some good old rough companions/ And some good old smooth red wine,” and you’re almost guaranteed to make them glassy-eyed. Something about the city’s prodigal son singing about home, with none of his usual irreverent veneer, is completely disarming and utterly exemplifies why he might just be the most underrated folk singer in the world.
Folk music should never be about worldwide fame and critical acclaim, and although Connolly possesses that in bucketloads in other respects, his sonic career symbolises the epitome of what this should be. One man, a microphone, a banjo, and an audience – you can see how that lure was potent. While the world evidently had other plans for Connolly, his folkish heart has never stopped beating through it all. Through the raucous routines and outrageous comedy, that’s the thing which always pulls him back home.
