My beloved adopted country of Scotland tends to grow bad poets and ‘storytellers’ like a particularly noxious fungus. When I feel disheartened, I turn to the best Scottish storyteller of all, Ivor Cutler. This strange little story about the mysterious “egg meat” you buy from the ironmonger is heightened by Cutler’s wonderful intonations and Glaswegian accent. Ivor Cutler is a much lesser-known figure than he ought to be.
From the album An Elpee and Two Epees for Free, Decca, 2005
A Personal Anthology 