GEY scunnersome news lest weekend; The Wickerman Festival is nae mair – 15 year o sunshine, glaur an rock ’n’ roll chippit intil the dustbin o history! Me, oor Mag an oor lassie, Rachel, hud bin regular attendees o this braw pop-fest fir monies a year.

It wis the first sic fest oor Rachel went tae as a bit lass. Her an her pal Izzie, baith 15 year auld, een fou o wunner as they attendit their first “adult” festival. Her memories o this? The Human League headlining! Pop funksters Hot Chip – an the weird surrealism o the Silent Disco, whaur hunners o young (an auld!) anes danced awa in a muckle marquee wi heidphones oan in eldritch seelence, the anely soun the trampin o their feet oan the gress!

The hale ongauns wis dreamt up bi twa mad (in a guid wey!) veesionaries, Jamie Gilroy an Sid Ambrose. Gilroy, a flamboyant, kenspeckle character whaes fairm an laund hosted the event, an Ambrose, wha hud the no-sae-mad idea o stagin a pop-fest based roun the theme o Robin Hardy’s pagan/horror epic, The Wickerman, the film o whilk starred Edward Woodward, Christopher Lee an Britt Ekland, an wis filmed in Dumfries an Gallowa. Gilroy’s tragic daith in 2014 signalled the end o the fest. The Gilroy family are nae strangers tae tragedy an Jamie’s wife Patsy hus bin a wumman o touerin strangth throuoot times o great adversity fir thaim. But let’s no dwell oan that sadness, but celebrate an heize up 15 magical years that no anely set lowe tae a muckle Wicker giant, but set lowe tae a counter-culture rawk revolution in south-west Scotland.

Fir years evri summer me an oor Mag wid jine the motley procession o vans, campers, an hitchers aa makkin their wey tae Dundrennan. Thair wis aye a magical bend in the road whan ye turnt it the hale festival site cam intil view; muckle fairground rides, tents, marquees, flags – an the eponymous Wickerman hissel!

Frae sma beginnins the festival grew intil a monster! We didnae stairt gaun tae it till around 2008 (KT Tunstall an Gary Numan!). Bi 2009 ah wis Robert Burns Writer in Residence fir the nou defunct D&G Airts Association – they hud a wee booth set up an in honour o the Bard an Hamecomin Year sae they hud a 24hr Burnsathon gaun oan, whaur fowk wir asked intil the booth tae read or sing a piece o Burns’ wark. It wis byordnar fun – an that year we hud The Human League an Billy Bragg tae serenade us!

Fir twa/three years we reuched it in a wee twa-man tent oan the Friday/Saturday nichts. Ah guess we wir kindae lucky cause we goat tae bide in the artists’ campsite – whaur thair wis ayewis the outside chaunce o their bein toilet rolls in the Portaloos! Ye’ve nevir bin a rael festival-goer until ye hae saumpled the delichts o “WC in Fields”!! In the mornin ye’d be up bi the crack o 10am an luikin fir the healthy breakfast scran o creashy fresh donuts an coffee! El splendido!! As years went by we anely steyed the Friday nicht – an horsed it back til Ayrshire eftir the big fellah wis brunt, getting hame, mingin an muddy at 4am. Lest year we finally succumbed tae the luxury o a guid B&B a mile or twa frae the fest; civilised, but mibbes no rock ’n’ roll!

Forby the main Summerisle Stage ye hud the likes o The Scooter Tent (that catered fir aa the legendary Mod/Ska/Punk bauns – Ian Dury’s oreeginal Blockheads, The Buzzcocks, Bad Manners, The Undertones, and an unforgettable “Dr” John Cooper-Clark!); The Acoustic Village hud aa sorts ae folk/blues stuff gaun oan – an Dumfries Community Choir! We aye likit the Reggae Tent – that ye cuid sniff oot frae twa mile awa!! The bass o its michty soun system stoundit throu yer ribcage!

Wickerman aye seemt tae me verra much a faimily/frienly festival. Thair wis aye loats o faimilies wi thair wee bit bairns, faces aa pentit, daffin happily awa amang the steamin adults. Ah nevir e’er saw ony rael boathir at it – unlike some festivals we ken o!

Ower the years, lik ony commercially successful ongauns, the festival grew an expanded. It aiblins loast a bit othe auld hippy/punk/new age vibe; but it wis aye mobbed, breengin wi fowk frae aa airts an gin they’d stuck wi it, it micht hae growne intil oor verra ain Scottish Glastonbury. Fir certes it aye seemt tae hae that kindae souch aboot it. Memories o Wickerman; we aa wull hae oor ain; The Human League likesay (fantastic!); Chic wi Nile Rodgers (ah wis richt at the front o the stage, an when the great man cam oan aabody taen photos o him wi their phones – while he brocht his camera til the front o the stage an taen loats o photies o the audience – he wis a true superstar!). In the Scooter Tent ye’d the likes o The Damned, The Rezillos, Anti-Nowhere League; an Sex Pistol an Clash tributes!

Fir years ah read at the Ingrid Pitt Word Stage – run bi Pete Cura (Milton Balgoni) an Nicola Black. Ah shared some braw radical, poleetical an satirical poetry wi the likes o Jim Monaghan, Kevin Cadwallader, Rachel McCrum, Colin Storrie, Andy Fleming, Mark Thomson, Jenny Lindsay, the incomparable Robin Cairns, an a wheen ithers! It’s haurd sittin here tae think that that’s nou aa awa!

Wickerman wull aye leeve in the hairts o aa thaim wha attendit it faithfully ilk year. Mony fowk hae guid ideas – but no mony fowk mak thae ideas an dreams a reality! “Build it and they will come” wis the strapline frae a fawmous film. Jamie Gilroy an Sid Ambrose did build it – an they did come! In their thoosans! Shine oan ya crazy diamonds!

In myth, giants are aye-an-oan sleepin, waitin tae be waukent up agane in time o great need. Mibbes the muckle Wickerman is juist doverin awa aneath his hillock at Dundrennan – jist bidin oan the day whan the riff frae God Gave Rock n’ Roll To You micht rouse him agane frae his slumbers!