Graeme Lockhart

Graeme Lockhart


Graeme Lockhart calls his music 'Scottish soul'; - it's lyrical, melodic, it's hard, it's gentle, it swings when it should and sways when it must. It sounds like..... it should be heard.


The press writes about Graeme Lockhart: 'It's a quite special experience to spend an evening with Graeme Lockhart.'
With closed eyes and velvety voice he sings his 'Scottish Soul', accompanied by his guitar and his band; - ....with his melodies and touching lyrics he brings a shining to the eyes of the listeners and lets them forget the time for an evening.
After studying history and politics in Scotland he recorded his first CD with his band Shibboleth.
For a while he lived in London and 1998 he moved to Munich/Germany.
In 2006 he recorded his album 'Listen like trees' . For this album he has had many positive national and international reviews.

Graeme Lockhart impresses his listeners by his incomparable stage presence and inspires, at all of his live appearances, storms of enthusiasm!

The German radio stations (Bayern3 'Newcomershow', RSA-Radio, NewcomerRadio, Starlightsound2004, Antenne Unna) brim over with enthusiasm for the music of Graeme Lockhart; - broadcasts from these stations resulted in wonderfull feedback from the listeners.

In December 2007 Graeme Lockhart was awarded 'Best Newcomer 2007' in the category Singer/Songwriter of



Written By: Graeme Lockhart


The house is quiet, and I’m not wondering
about the changes taking place
and my edges changing colour
and my thoughts needing space
for a trip along in the hollow race.
And I trip and fall and stumble in space,
and there’s nothing that keeps
the day in place like you.

The place is quiet and I’m remembering
how you looked in that perfect spring
of our arrivals
and now the innocence and the light
in almost everything,
and I trip… (Chorus)

And there’s laughter,
she has that perfect glow,
like a swan
with them in tow
all round the place
and the silence gone.
But it doesn’t matter,
they move like song..
And I trip… (Chorus)

The hangman's daughter

Written By: Graeme Lockhart

The hangman’s daughter

You’re pinpoint precision, you’re Robin Hood,
you’re alcohol, you’re prison food,
you’re an island retreat without a phone,
you’re poison and pizza, you’re home alone,
you’re suicide and murder, you’re a ten year stretch
you’re poetry and Prozac, you’re a loaded deck,
you’re easy like alchemy, hard like ice,
you’re happy like insanity, worryingly nice,
you’re sharp corners no head room, a flawed design,
you listen like trees and you babble like swine,
you care like a nun, for the rest of the flock,
you banish and punish, when I need to talk,
you’re here and you’re there, you’re never around,
you’re big lights and loud music, but never profound,
you charge like a river, but you’re never on show,
you’re back room material, when the crowd all go,
you’re high and you’re grounded, you’re like sun and rain,
you’re a war of attrition, you’re a chess game,
you’re a finger pointing, straight up to heaven,
you’re a soap opera, you’re a deep well of learning,
you’re a blacksmiths hammer, you’re will on the wisp,
you’re a broken jaw, you’re a secret kiss,
you’re always, always, and never before,
you’re clouds over mountains, you’re a mark on the floor,
you’re wild street parties, you’re a dove flying free,
you’re all things to all people and a mystery to me,
you’re a queen in a bubble, a lamb to the slaughter,
you’re everybody’s friend, and the hangman’s daughter.

Driving to the moon

Written By: Graeme Lockhart

Driving to the moon

It’s something to see,
all the lights down below,
all the houses and streets,
laid out now on row.
You make the dream possible,
you make the dream real,
passed the high clouds
then you take the wheel.

So hold up your handkerchief and count us down,
then we’re off like a bullet leaves a gun, leaves a gun.
Passed the high windows,
like salt on a spoon,
round the church tower
we’re driving to the moon.

The ocean is black,
like the hearts and the minds,
the stony eyed faces the we leave behind.
You’re my only invention, tomorrow, today,
you’re to purest intention that ever came my way.

So hold up…(Chorus)

Across the blue nowhere and round the edge,
there’s nothing about leaving, that really makes sense,
the stars through the window are shaping our route.
So hold on to something,
it’ll be over too soon.

Money and riches don’t mean a thing,
when you’re storming through darkness and wild as the wind.
You make escape possible, you make the dream real,
passed the high clouds, then you take the wheel.

So hold up… (Chorus)

Just do it

Written By: Graeme Lockhart

Just do it

The back porch done in feathers,
while the old dog gently snores,
they’re doing some voodoo dance
in the woods out passed the stores.
The night is hot and sticky,
the moon is shining bright,
the crickets keep a crocked beat,
it’s bound to take all night.
Who’s to say she never really loved you,
just bite your lip,
do it and it’s done.

The knife it flashes silver,
it’s gonna take a slice of time,
turn it into vengeance,
serve it with some wine.
The dish is called sweet regret,
the dance is something other,
the offering is always fresh,
someone’s got to suffer.
Her sweet advice was always on the money,
she liked to say:
Just do it and it’s done.

Fire water sitting in the kitchen,
snake inside cocks an evil eye,
telephone ringing somewhere in the distance,
candle light blinks out with an eerie sigh.

The blood will splash like mod on a chicken feather bed,
her face a dream a silent scream,
the moon is burning red,
the beat is fast and pounding the breaking hard and strong,
madness in the air tonight drives the thing along.
Do you really want this putrid stain upon you?
Like she said:
Just do it and it’s done.

You realize that you’re running,
stumbling through the night,
shouts and howls behind you
calling you to rights.
There’s blood all up your arms,
shirt is ripped and torn,
accounts are being settled,
evil being born.
Don’t close your eyes
you might not get them open,
you hear her voice:
Just do it and it’s done.

Coming to bleeding by the lakeside,
cold water bringing you around,
the moon it frames you like a spotlight,
blackness pressing in without a sound.

You’re stepping out of hell,
stepping through some door,
hurting in places you never hurt before.
The blade is real enough,
but the blood might be your own,
you don’t recognize this kitchen,
you don’t recognize this home.
The old snake eye still blinking from the table,
and a whisper says: Just do it and it’s done,
She always said: Just do it and it’s done.
Like she said: Just do it and it’s done!

Once in a while

Written By: Graeme Lockhart

Once in a while

I was making choices on a tightrope,
I was clearing tables in the rain,
I was watching life as it strolled right by me,
a frozen face on a canvas my Manet.
Then the world turned like a carousel around me,
looking out, there was only me and you.
Sometimes in the cold heart of nowhere honey,
the earth just opens up and swallows you.
I ask you if you’re free to spend an evening,
I take you to the carnival on Rue Chevalier,
and once in a while
you use your smile
and I’m half way to heaven again.

You're quiet and you sit like Mona Lisa,
we take tea in sheltered gardens,
and we stroll by the Seine.
And once in a while
you use your smile
and I’m half way to heaven again.

The tree lined street is quiet in the lamplight,
cabs going by us in the rain,
I’m tripping along like Gene Kelly honey,
and old fool feels like eighteen again.
You put your arm around me and I’m helpless,
I’m drunk like Dionysus on the Rue St. Germaine.
And once in a while
you use your smile
and I’m half way to heaven again.


'Listen like trees'
Airplays on

Set List

Once In A While
She keeps it there
4 in the morning
Driving to the moon
Hold on
I don't dream
Walk on
Just do it
The same blood
Something in her eyes
The devil and a naked flame
I knew that I can make it without you
The Hangmans Daughter
The streets are rivers of blood
San Francisco stopover
Fortress Europe
Happy Song
I almost forgot