I didn't know that.

Jackie was the greatest of them all, a great writer, singer, guitarist and a true friend. God bless ya Big Man.

Who the funk is Jackie Leven & why should I be upset?

Jackie Leven was a legend - great songwriter on his now right, superb guitarist and above all one of our very best singers.

There are few songwriters who make you see the world through different eyes - Jackie Leven was one.
His songs clearly came from life experience. A story which deserves telling to readers who may have missed out on Jackie's music.
We should celebrate the life and works of the man brave enough to write The Sexual Loneliness Of Jesus Christ
RIP

Listening to the cd he made with Ian Rankin right now. Brilliant.

"Eternal is the warrior who finds beauty in his wounds."

Jackie Leven seems to me to be a perfect example of one of those artists who means absolutely nothing at all to the vast majority of people, but more than words can ever express to those who have been touched by his music.

Like several others who have posted here recently, I discovered Jackie through the inclusion of his song 'The Sexual Loneliness Of Jesus Christ' on an Uncut cover-mount CD several years ago. Intrigued, I dug deeper and found a wide-ranging catalogue, bursting with treasures.

The first album of his that I bought was 'Forbidden Songs Of The Dying West', and the first time that I played it, his reading of James Wright's poem, 'A Blessing', snuck up on me and caused me to burst into tears on the spot - mildly embarrassing, as I was walking down a busy street at the time!

That album and 'Creatures Of Light And Darkness' remain my favourites, but all of his albums are worth hearing. He was never less than interesting, and at his best, he was transcendent.

Much was always made of his back-story, but this was one instance where it seemed truly relevant to his music, which was clearly informed by the path he'd travelled, and the result of having been forced to take stock of his situation on more than one occasion.

In many of his songs, he sought to ask questions about the role of men in modern society, an issue reflected in his interest in the work of Robert Bly. The writer of this review (http://tiny.cc/5wx8j) of Jackie's album 'Fairy Tales For Hard Men' sums up this aspect of his work far better than I can!

Jackie was - to my eyes and ears at least - a thoughtful and complex person, with a matching approach to his art. Many of his songs revealed him to be a gifted storyteller - 'Billy Ate My Pocket' is a particular favourite of mine in that regard - and his spoken word recordings ('Jackie Leven Said' with Ian Rankin, 'Chip Pan Fire', released under the name Jackie Balfour) show that he could entertain an audience with the best of them.

I was very sad to hear the news of his death, which seemed to come very suddenly. I never saw him perform live, and although the chances of his making it down to Australia always made that a slim prospect anyway, I'm further saddened to know that I will never have that chance, nor the chance, perhaps to shake his hand and thank him personally for the pleasure he gave me through his work.

In short, I will miss him, but I wish him peace in his resting with all my heart.

Sometime in early 1982 I was having coffee with a friend in his student room in Manchester. He was playing some music that I didn't recognise - a rock band dominated by a big, full-on, soulful Celtic voice. It turned out to be the third Doll By Doll album, "Doll by Doll". I borrowed the old cassette and played it ragged: so began my passion for the music of Jackie Leven, which has been a source of constant solace and joy for me over the past three decades.

I first saw Doll by Doll at a big Manchester pub called the Gallery. The support band weren't very good. The only person prepared to applaud them was the huge, long-haired Romany Scotsman who'd just parked himself at my table. I decided I'd better applaud too. Big Jackie (for it was he) was a formidable presence.

During Jackie's wilderness years (say 1983 to 1993) of heroin addiction and living rough, I assumed that he'd never make another record. Virtually the only mention of him from that time that I remember reading was some encouraging words from Mike Scott on the sleeve notes of one of the Waterboys' albums. The thought that Jackie might return to make another 35 records was simply ridiculous.

But return he did - and in the form of his life. The first mini-album was the Scottish-only release "Songs From the Argyll Cycle, Vol. 1)". He then followed this up with a trio of full-blown masterpieces:

The Mystery of Love Is Greater Than The Mystery of Death
Forbidden Songs of The Dying West
Fairytales For Hardmen

If you're new to the music of Jackie Leven, this is where I recommend you start. I love everything about these records: the songs, the wonderful playing, the short quotations from Rilke and the strange Scottish aphorisms ("Ye need lang spoon tae sup wi' a Fifer").

And of course Jackie was back playing live. I saw him when he played in front of 35 people in Stockholm in about 1998. Before the gig I had a quick word with him and meekly proffered my copy of "Fairy Tales for Hardmen" for his autograph. "A good album", I said. He fixed me with the Leven stare. "A GREAT album", he insisted. He was right, of course.

I was lucky enough to see him three more times in Stockholm in the noughties, with the audience always hovering between 30 and 40. It must've been the same people every time. He was always wonderful in concert, digging deep into his huge, rich back catalogue to bring out gem after gem. My requests for "Jim O'Windygates" were sometimes assented to, but he never played "Main Travelled Roads," however nicely I asked.

I'm ashamed to say that I missed Big Jackie on his last-ever visit to Stockholm. I already had a ticket to see Feist that night, and I thought "Oh well, I'll see Jackie next time". There was never a next time, though I cherish my copy of "Deep in the Heart of Nowhere" that he signed, the last time I saw him, with the words "To duco, thanks for caring".
The pleasure was all mine, Big Man.