The Belgian Fedora Hat

Just to follow on from our visit to Glasgow... The music scene there was so inspiring, that as soon as we got back a couple of songs just seemed to write themselves, especially one chronicling the loss of a beloved hat P had bought a few years before in a street market in Bruges. He was devastated to discover, after a gig on our first night in Glasgow, that he'd lost it.

But I won't tell you the whole story, better to let the lyrics of the song give you an idea of what happened. I haven't had time to record it yet, but I think it works just as well as spoken word. See what you think.

The Belgian Fedora Hat

Chorus 

It was a Belgian fedora, from a market in Bruges

He had no eyes for another, it was the only one he’d choose

The perfect khaki colour, it would go with anything

A hat for all seasons, from the summer through to spring. 

Made of finest felt, it was adorned with corded braid

A hat to be reckoned with, not one to be mislaid

He wore it to a Glasgae gig, the rain was pouring down

So we hailed a taxi half-way there, to t’other side of town.

The driver was a friendly guy and chatted all the way

He knew the best folk venues and the cool places to stay

We left him in high spirits, we could hear the Celtic beat

Jigs and reels escaping from a pub just down the street.

A very jolly night ensued, the music was superb

But all too soon we had to go and then he sadly learnt

His fedora was missing, the bar staff searched around

But eventually conceded it was nowhere to be found.

Desperately he went back to where we had once sat

And asked a grumpy drinker there to look for the hat

He cast a cursory glance around, then loudly proclaimed

Your feckin hat’s not here, don’t hassle me, just go away.

I can’t believe I’ve lost my hat, it meant a lot to me

Don’t worry I said blithely, you’ll get it back you’ll see

You’ve left it in the taxi, with the lovely friendly driver

Mark my words he’ll bring it back, that hat is a survivor!

Another rainy day passed by, as he bemoaned his loss

And then he got a phone call, and I had to smile because

The friendly taxi driver must have listened to our chat

And fetched up at our hotel with the Belgian fedora hat!!!

So the moral of this story is if you ever lose your hat

Don’t be hasty to suppose you’ll never get it back

Remember the kind Glaswegian who went the extra mile

And returned the Belgian fedora hat just to make a stranger smile.

I can't end this post without telling you why we were in Bruges. Our singer/songwriter friend, Lieven Tavernier, was playing with his band at a beautiful old theatre in the heart of the town.

Stadsshouwburg Theatre

I'd always wanted to revisit Bruges after having had a great time there years ago whilst busking around Belgium. So when Lieven told us about his gig, we booked the flights straight away. 

It was a unforgettable evening of music and camaraderie, and even though we don't speak a word of Flemish, Lieven's deep velvet voice and amazing arrangements more than compensated. The final treat came later when Lieven took us onto the stage to view the empty theatre in its full glory, a fabulous ending to our last night in Bruges.

Five years later, when I was just starting work on Full Moon, Lieven suggested I include one of his songs. Unfortunately, although he has hundreds of songs, only four have been translated into English, but no matter, as soon as I heard Time Will Tell it spoke to me. On the surface the song has a strong Catholic narrative, but it appeals to me because it also works on a universal level, posing the age-old questions on life and death.

Thanks for dropping by xo