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h yes, Mark Knopfler. The idea of a traditional Scottish fiddle player becoming right hand man to one of the world’s greatest rock mega-stars was farcical when the boy McCusker was wearing silly trousers and behaving like a chimp. “It was totally unthinkable. Back then even to make a living at it was unthinkable. Completely different days. But from the early days, whether it was folk music or indie rock, it’s always just been music to me. Even when I was fifteen I’d be playing with an indie rock band from Glasgow one day and a Gaelic singer the next. I’ve carried that feeling my whole life and it’s given me lots of opportunities.”
And then he says something that will cause incredulous gasps and perhaps some mirth…
“I’ve never really rated myself as a fiddle player.”
Excuse me? False modesty, surely? He’ll probably laugh in a minute. Except he means it. He’s said the same sort of thing before. As an instrumentalist, he genuinely doesn’t feel he is any great shakes.
“When your heroes are Frankie Gavin and Liz Carroll, I could never work out what they do in a million years. But I can do what I do. I love playing on songs as much as I love playing a jig. I love play- ing a session for a rock band as much as I love playing traditional music. Some people – and Mike McGoldrick is the perfect example – live and breathe tunes. I don’t. I have to really work at it, especially if I’m playing with two of the best musicians in the world. I have to practise and go back, I don’t find it easy.”
A crucial part of his post-Battlefield story was his musical involvement with – and marriage to – Kate Rusby, a role that involved him becoming musical director of her band and producer of her highly successful breakthrough albums.
“It was huge, a big phase in my life. There weren’t many people making records like that when we started so at the beginning it was an exciting time, playing with all those people and putting the band together. But it ended very badly. We haven’t spoken for ten years so I don’t look back fondly on it at all. But you learn from every situa- tion I suppose.”
“After twelve years being involved with it I walked away and I was at a point in my life where I didn’t know what to do. I had no job, no money. So I was skint and moved back to Scotland and had nobody to play with. And the first call I got was to play with Paul Weller in the studio. It was literally the next day after my last gig. It was just a session for his record, but I walked out of the studio feel- ing completely energised about my future. Then I got a call to play with Mark Knopfler, so I feel very fortunate. I left a really bad situa- tion and it has gone well ever since.”
He’s now worked with Knopfler for eight years, including four world tours – one of them involving five months on the road with Bob Dylan (though he never got to speak to the great man).
“It’s amazing being in Mark’s band. It completely turned my life
upside down, musically and personally. At the time I wasn’t sure what I was going to do but I jumped in and of course I was excited about travelling in a better van and eating better and being looked after. It’s incredibly difficult to make a living playing folk music, so I was excited about the nice hotels and the travel and getting to play with Mark, but I wasn’t prepared for how much I was going to learn from everybody. It’s completely inspiring.”
He’s never been wildly interested in the business side of things – often to his detriment and cost – but he’s now set up his own record label, Under One Sky, with Heidi Talbot with their own stu- dio at the old mill house (with converted bothy) in the Borders where they now live.
“We’ve got ideas for people to come into the studio, whoever is in town, and make the bothy sessions. You know, record a tune with Tim O’Brien and release it on seven-inch. My inspiration is Jack White from White Stripes and Third Man Records. That’s our main influ- ence. I go on his website and get inspired. He just gets his mates to come and play and Jack will play drums and that’s it, single done. I’d love to do stuff with friends who call in and capture the magic in our little studio.
Hello, Goodbye was recorded there and, while he may not rate himself as a fiddle player, he’s delighted with the results.
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