THE HAPPY HIGHLANDER’S RECORDS Episode 7 - Edinburgh and Glasgow : From Friendly Rivalry to Harmony
- thehappyhighlander
- May 1
- 6 min read
Updated: May 17
You can watch the video episode here
(full of bonus images and slides with information in text form):
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THE HAPPY HIGHLANDER’S RECORDS
Episode 7
Edinburgh and Glasgow : From Friendly Rivalry to Harmony
Fit like a’body. I hope you are all hale and hearty and most importantly, happy. So hello and welcome, friends, to The Happy Highlander’s Records where the crackle of shellac and the turn of a winding gramophone bring Scotland’s musical past back to life.
Today’s broadcast spins us along the old road between Glasgow and Edinburgh — two great Scottish cities, only forty-odd miles apart, yet worlds apart in personality. Glasgow, proud and industrious, full of humour, music halls, shipyards, and big-hearted storytelling. Edinburgh, elegant and historic, a city of learning, festivals, castles, and careful tradition. For generations there’s been a friendly rivalry between the two — Glasgow teasing Edinburgh for being a wee bit refined, Edinburgh smiling back at Glasgow’s loud confidence.
But beneath the banter lies something deeper: both cities helped shape Scotland’s cultural voice, and nowhere is that clearer than in music.
In this episode I’ll be playing five sides from original 78rpm shellac records, each one a small time capsule. Two celebrate Glasgow, two honour Edinburgh, and our final record brings the whole country together in song — because no matter which city claims your heart, we all meet in the same chorus eventually.
So settle back, imagine the gentle hum of a gramophone motor, and let’s begin in Glasgow — with a song that became almost an unofficial anthem of the dear green place.
Our first record is a true music-hall classic: “I Belong to Glasgow,” sung by the incomparable Will Fyffe, issued on the Regal label issued in 1921.
Will Fyffe was one of Scotland’s biggest entertainment stars of the early 20th century — actor, comedian, and singer — and this song, first performed in the 1920s, captured Glasgow’s spirit perfectly. It tells the humorous tale of a man insisting he’s not drunk… merely sentimental.
Anyone who knows Glasgow humour will recognise that defence immediately! The song became wildly popular because it celebrates something deeply Glaswegian: warmth, resilience, and the ability to laugh at oneself. At a time when the city’s shipyards and heavy industries dominated daily life, music hall songs like this offered both escape and identity.
Interestingly, Fyffe himself wasn’t born in Glasgow but in Dundee — yet audiences embraced him as one of their own. That tells you something important about Glasgow: belonging isn’t about birthplace, it’s about spirit.
Early Regal pressings like this were designed for home gramophones just as recorded entertainment was becoming part of everyday life. Families would gather round exactly as we are now — listening together, sharing songs that felt personal.
So let’s wind the clock back nearly a century and hear the song that proudly declares — with a wink and a smile — that no matter where you wander… I Belong to Glasgow.
Now we travel eastward to Scotland’s capital with “The Flowers of Edinburgh,” performed by the Scottish Country Dance Players on the His Master’s Voice label, recorded in November 1948.
Despite the poetic title, this isn’t originally a song but a lively fiddle tune dating back to at least the 18th century. It became a cornerstone of Scottish country dancing, still danced in halls across the world today — from village socials to gatherings as far away as Canada and New Zealand.
Edinburgh has long been seen as Scotland’s cultural and intellectual centre, and traditional dance played a huge role in social life there. Assemblies and dance rooms were once as important to society as theatres or concert halls.
The tune itself is energetic but precise — very fitting for Edinburgh’s reputation: elegant, structured, yet joyful beneath the surface. Where Glasgow’s music hall leaned toward humour and storytelling, Edinburgh preserved formal traditions like reels and country dances. HMV recordings such as this helped standardise dance tempos so dancers everywhere could move to the same rhythm. In many ways, these records acted as teachers as well as entertainers.
So imagine polished wooden floors, dancers lining up for the next set, and the sound of fiddles echoing through an Edinburgh hall as we listen to “The Flowers of Edinburgh.”
We now return west to Glasgow, this time through the voice of Molly Weir, recorded on the Parlophone label in 1957.
Molly Weir was beloved across Britain as an actress and broadcaster, but she never lost her unmistakable Glasgow identity. Known for her warmth and humour, she often portrayed ordinary Scottish characters with enormous affection and authenticity.
This recording captures a more personal portrait of the city — less music hall bravado and more storytelling charm. By the mid-20th century, Glasgow was changing rapidly, moving away from heavy industry toward a modern cultural identity, and voices like Molly Weir’s helped preserve the character and humour of everyday Glaswegian life.
Parlophone, now famous for later pop recordings, originally issued a wide range of spoken word and novelty records, allowing personalities rather than orchestras to take centre stage.
What makes this piece special is its sense of familiarity. Glasgow isn’t presented as grand or romantic — it’s lived-in, friendly, and full of characters you feel you might meet at the corner shop or on the tram.
So here’s Glasgow again — this time not sung from the stage, but spoken from the heart — Molly Weir with “Glasgow.”
For our fourth record we stand beneath the shadow of Edinburgh Castle, with the Massed Bands of Scottish Command performing “Scotland the Brave.”
Few melodies are as instantly recognisable as this one. Though often thought of as ancient, the tune gained widespread popularity in the early 20th century and became closely associated with military pipe bands and national celebration.
Recorded in Edinburgh and connected to the great ceremonial traditions of the castle, this performance reflects Edinburgh’s role as Scotland’s historic and ceremonial heart. Military bands, pageantry, and the famous Tattoo all helped cement the city’s global image.
The power of massed pipes and drums was perfectly suited to early recording technology — bold, clear, and stirring even through the limitations of shellac discs.
“Scotland the Brave” often accompanies moments of national pride — parades, gatherings, and farewells — and it bridges regional differences. Whether from Glasgow, Edinburgh, the Highlands, or the islands, Scots everywhere recognise its call.
So picture the castle esplanade, the evening air, and pipes ringing across the city as we hear “Scotland the Brave.”
Our final record takes us back to a 1928 recording and this record brings Glasgow and Edinburgh together — and indeed the whole nation — with a 12-inch His Master’s Voice compilation: “Songs of Scotland” by the Light Opera Company.
Unlike the earlier single selections, this record is a musical journey through Scotland’s shared heritage. Within its grooves lie beloved melodies including Scots Wha Hae, The Bluebells of Scotland, Loch Lomond, Coming Through the Rye, Annie Laurie, The Campbells Are Coming, Will Ye No Come Back Again, and of course Auld Lang Syne.
Each song tells part of Scotland’s story — love songs, Jacobite memories, folk traditions, and melodies that travelled the world with emigrants carrying home in their hearts.
By the time records like this were produced, there was a growing desire to preserve national culture in recorded form. These compilations acted almost like musical history books, allowing listeners to experience centuries of song in a single sitting.
And perhaps that’s the perfect ending today. After a friendly rivalry between Glasgow’s humour and Edinburgh’s elegance, we arrive at something larger — a shared musical inheritance. So, wherever you’re listening from, let these songs remind us that Scotland sings best when all voices join together.
Here is “Songs of Scotland.”
And so the needle lifts gently from the final groove, and todays journey between Glasgow and Edinburgh comes to its end. We’ve heard two cities in friendly conversation — Glasgow with its laughter, stories, and open-hearted song; Edinburgh with its grace, tradition, and proud sense of history. Different voices, different rhythms, yet part of the same melody. Because Scotland has never been just one sound — it’s harmony made from contrasts.
These old shellac records remind us that music outlives the moments that created it. Long after dance halls grow quiet and theatres dim, the songs remain, waiting for another listener, another evening, another smile.
This edition was recorded on an island off the West coast of Scotland where my collection of some 160,000 old shellac records is lovingly kept – to preserve, record and share these sounds from the past at 78rpm. You can listen to more episodes via my website TheHappyHighlandersRecords.com and you can also listen to recordings of each individual record via my YouTube Channel Scottish Island Records. As we close this episode, there’s a lovely thought often attributed to Robert Louis Stevenson: “To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive.”And perhaps that’s what music lets us do — travel hopefully, together, through memory, laughter, and song. Wherever you call home — Glasgow, Edinburgh, or far beyond — may the music keep your spirits light and your heart happy. You’ve been listening to The Happy Highlander’s Records, where old shellac spins new memories.
Until next time, keep the gramophone turning and the music playing and may happiness always find its way into your song and haste ye back.
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