Middle Atlantic Folklife Association

Thomas Fraser of Shetland
A Transatlantic Wonder
By John Lilly

It would make a swell movie.

Thomas Fraser was born to a poor fishing family on the remote island of Burra in 1927. Burra is one of 100 treeless, windswept isles located 100 miles north of Scotland in the North Sea, comprising Shetland – once a possession of Norway, bequeathed to Scotland as part of a royal dowry in the 17th century. While Shetland is still part of Scotland politically and retains much of its Scandinavian heritage, it is a distinct and independent entity, at least in the minds of those hardy souls who live there.

At the time of Thomas Fraser’s birth, small fishing boats offered the primary means of support for local families. Today, raising sheep and drilling for oil also buoy the Shetland economy, but for Thomas Fraser, making a living was all about fishing. He sometimes signed onto a crew and hunted whales and other open-water game, but he mainly worked a one-man lobster or scallop boat off the jagged coast of Burra and nearby islands.

As rugged and remote as Shetland might appear to outsiders, it’s culturally rich. There are layers of tradition here, dating as far back as the pre-Viking inhabitants and including language, food, holidays, occupational practices, dancing, and – most famously – music. Shetland has long been a haven for fiddlers. In recent years, tax money from the oil business has funded a vigorous arts-in-education program, and most school children learn to play an instrument while very young, many of them drawn to traditional fiddle music.

No one was surprised, then, when Thomas Fraser became proficient on the fiddle, mandolin, accordion, and guitar: instruments he would play in the evenings after tying up his fishing boat or on days when the seas were too rough to work. What was unusual, however, was Thomas’ singing ability. He was drawn to early American country and blues music, mainly that of Jimmie Rodgers. Thomas owned a battery-operated radio and would tune in U.S. Armed Forces broadcasts late at night, listening for the high, lonesome sound of the “Singing Brakeman” and his distinctive yodel. With practice, Thomas Fraser developed his own style of singing Rodgers’ songs, complete with imaginative, soaring yodels and punchy guitar playing.

A shy man, Thomas sang and played mostly for his own use. According to local lore, the first time Thomas Fraser was coaxed to perform in public, he insisted on playing his fiddle from inside a closed closet. He never really overcame this reticence, though he did get to where he would occasionally play and sing for neighbors at local gatherings. More commonly, he would welcome other musicians to play with him at his home, teaching many young guitar players their first chords and playing for hours, informally, with friends.

When electricity came to Burra Island in 1953, Thomas brought the first tape recorder to the island – some say the first one in Shetland. He began making recordings of himself, singing and playing the guitar, mostly late at night in his fishing cottage, performing solo. He would give these recordings to neighbors and relatives as gifts, possibly to defer their persistent requests for his rare live performances. It is unclear how many recipients actually owned or had access to tape recorders themselves, but, over the years, he made at least 500 of these recordings. Some he kept for himself, and some were scattered across Shetland. He was fastidious about the process and strove to make the highest-quality recordings possible. He would upgrade his equipment every few years and often experimented with microphone placement and various other recording techniques. He did this for 20 years.

While fishing in the early 1970s, Fraser’s one-man boat was dashed against a small island in rough and frigid seas. The boat was ruined, and he clung to a rock for hours, waves crashing about him. Finally, someone noticed his plight and sent a boat to rescue him. After several failed attempts to throw him a lifeline, he was struck on the head by the life preserver but managed to hold on while he was towed, nearly drowned, to the waiting boat. He barely survived. Some say he was never the same. A few years later, in a second fishing accident, he was struck in the head by a lobster trap. Though he again survived, he remained in constant pain and died as a result of his injuries in 1978.

Another 20 years passed.

In the late 1990s, Thomas Fraser’s grandson, Karl Simpson, decided to acquaint himself with his grandfather and his music. Karl was only three years old when Thomas died and had no real memories of him. Karl’s search brought him to Thomas’ cousin Bobby Fraser. Thomas had asked Bobby to store his tapes for safekeeping, and Karl found them to be in surprisingly good shape. As he began to listen, Karl was struck by the quality of his grandfather’s music and the clarity of these recordings.

The singing was robust, the guitar playing was lively, and the yodeling seemed to come from another world. Thomas emerged through these recordings as a mature and forceful musician in his own right. While some songs were generally true in form to the original Rodgers recordings, others took on significantly different arrangements. This is especially true of the yodeling, which Thomas executed with surprising precision, ease, and creativity.

In addition to the songs of Jimmie Rodgers, Thomas recorded himself singing plenty of Hank Williams and Hank Snow material, along with songs from several other early country music sources, all sung in Thomas Fraser’s broad Shetland accent. An added dimension to these recordings was the inclusion of traditional Scottish fiddle music, played by Thomas and accompanied by various guitarists, including, in one case, his wife, Phyllis.

What stood out the most about these recordings was the nearly palpable sense of joy they exuded. Perhaps emboldened now and then by some liquid refreshment – Thomas was known to accept a drink – Fraser tore into his music with obvious assurance and verve. Not a careful performance captured by professionals in a commercial studio, these uninhibited, late-night home recordings allowed the listener to be a “fly on the wall” as Thomas Fraser indulged in what was clearly one of his greatest pleasures and undoubtedly his primary creative outlet.

Karl knew he had to do something with this trove. He began the arduous task of making digital transfers from the original analog reels. His first intention was to make a CD strictly for family use. But the more recordings he unearthed, and the more other people heard and reacted to the music, the more Karl set his mind on the idea of producing a CD for sale to the public.

After three years of listening, transferring, editing, researching, writing, and producing, Karl introduced the first Thomas Fraser CD in 2002, titled “Long Gone Lonesome Blues.” He sold the initial 1,000 copies almost immediately. More were pressed. He sent some to radio stations and publications for airplay and review. The response was enthusiastic and unanimous.

In November 2002, Karl produced the first Thomas Fraser Memorial Concert on Burra Island. It was a big success and an emotional experience for Karl and his family. Not only did it serve as a celebration for the release of his grandfather’s first CD, it afforded an opportunity for many of Thomas’ old friends and musical buddies to take the stage and share songs, stories, laughter, and a few poignant moments. The concert became a festival, and the festival has become a local tradition.

It was my pleasure to attend and perform at the fifth annual Thomas Fraser Memorial Festival, November 9-12, 2006, on Burra Island in Shetland. It was an experience I will never forget. As I got off the small, twin-prop plane that carried me across the North Sea from Scotland, I was nearly picked up off the ground by a strong, cold wind, which is a nearly constant feature of life on these islands. I was met at the airport by Karl Simpson – a bright and friendly young man with short-cropped red hair and an easy smile. Karl drove me across southern Shetland toward Burra, giving me a brief tour as we traveled. We saw several of the well-known Shetland ponies as well as who-knows-how-many sheep – Shetland has at least 330,000 sheep compared to 22,000 people. We passed spectacular vistas and ancient rock ruins, traveled through “the town” – Lerwick, population 8,000 – and eventually ended up on Burra Island.

That first evening, the festival drew a standing-room-only crowd, as it did all three nights. The quality of the music was quite high, featuring primarily Shetland musicians and singers, along with a bluegrass band from Glasgow (the Moonshiners), a relative of Jimmie Rodgers from Mississippi (Rick McWilliams), and me from West Virginia. I was invited because I sing many of the old Jimmie Rodgers and Hank Williams songs, as well as my own compositions. I had hoped to hear some traditional Shetland music while I was there, but the audience came to hear American country music, in its various forms. So that’s what we got, and it was all good.

On the second night, I coaxed a set of traditional reels out of a young fiddler, to accompany me in a short demonstration of Appalachian flatfoot dancing. I was told afterwards that the local version is called the “Burraman’s War Dance” and that Thomas Fraser was an expert.

After the third night, there was party that lasted until 8 a.m. – I only made it til 4 and was considered a half-miler. The people I met in Shetland were energetic and warm-hearted. They are justifiably proud of where they live and who they are. And Thomas Fraser has emerged to them as an unlikely hero, a shy fisherman who is feted each November in what has evolved from a one-evening tribute concert into a festive community celebration. Thomas Fraser and his memory are still at the center of the event, however. And his CDs sell briskly – there are now three of them available, with plans for a fourth.

And, who knows? Maybe a movie someday. I think it would make a swell movie.

(For more about Thomas Fraser, visit www.thomasfraser.com.)

♫

John Lilly, from Charleston, West Virginia, is editor/folklife director for the West Virginia Division of Culture and History’s Goldenseal magazine, a 33-year-old quarterly publication about West Virginia traditional life. He has held this position since 1997. He is also editor of the book Mountains of Music: West Virginia Traditional Music from Goldenseal, published by the University of Illinois Press in 1999, as part of its “Music in American Life” series. John Lilly was previously the publicist for the Augusta Heritage Center at Davis & Elkins College in Elkins, West Virginia, and a tour guide at the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum in Nashville, Tennessee. He is an experienced musician and songwriter with two solo CDs available plus one recording with the late Tennessee fiddler, Ralph Blizard.
More information is available at www.wvculture.org/goldenseal and www.johnlillymusic.com.