Crooner who blew fans away with Tiny Bubbles was simply Devine

He went from child star to heart throb for women of, er, a certain vintage. “What has 100 legs and three teeth?” ran the joke. “The front row of a Sydney Devine concert.”

Sometimes, they threw their pants at him. Later in his career, he noted: “The sizes have been getting bigger.” For this was a fellow who could laugh at himself, someone much loved, both in and out of the business, who appreciated his fans and never took them for granted. He released 49 albums and sold 15 million records. Can’t argue with that.

Arguably, Sydney Devine was born in Bellside, near the spa village of Cleland, North Lanarkshire, on 11 January 1940. His father was a miner and, consequently, played the accordion and mouth organ. His mother taught young Sydney to whistle. And still social services did nothing.

Through pursed lips, Sydney honed his art and, not unnaturally, graduated to imitating Fringilla coelebs. Or, as it is known in show business, the chaffinch.

At the age of 12, he won a talent contest for this controversial use of air and later performed at the Hippodrome in London. This was in the days before the internet. When his voice broke, he returned to Scotland and joined the White Heather Club, which at that time was not a proscribed organisation.

When not on stage he worked the lights and curtains, and during the interval sold programmes and song sheets. Even at this time, he was spending his earnings on fancy costumery and, during a period of sweet rationing, on illicit chewing gum from Dundee.

Western warbler

Soon, he was bumping his gums on television, in the alleged talent show All Your Own. By now, he had a guitar and, once he’d figured out which end to blow into, started on the road to stardom as a country and western copyist. He toured with Alex Harvey’s early rockabilly band and, at a gig of his own in Germany, reputedly sang Heartbreak Hotel without realising yon very Elvis Presley was in the audience.

Elvis’s reaction is not recorded but, according to Devine himself, one year after his death the spectral king of rock and arguably roll came to haunt the Caledonian crooner, throwing a red dressing gown to the floor, possibly in a desperate search for Dundee chewing gum.

On stage, Devine came to prefer a white leather jacket and trousers. Lottae tassles, ken? But first we should discuss his Tiny Bubbles. Ooh-er, missus. Sydney discovered what was to become his signature tune in the 1960s in Honolulu while on his way to Australia with tartan-haunted singer Andy Stewart.

“We were at a place called the Polynesian Palace and a guy called Don Ho, the Elvis Presley of Hawaii, sang Tiny Bubbles,” he told The Herald. “It was a catchy wee song and the whole audience were soon singing along. So I bought Don’s album and learnt the song for myself.”

Sydney Devine 20th November 1995

Maggie may be heard

Other favourites in his repertoire included Legend in My Time, Scotland Forever, The Answer to Everything, and Maggie, each guaranteed to placate his always potentially violent audiences. “If I missed those out I would get murdered,” he recalled.

In the 1970s, he had his own show on STV and a late-night programme on Radio Clyde, invariably signing off with a message to his devoted wife: “Put the kettle on, Shirley.”

He appeared at the Pavilion Theatre, Glasgow, every year for 45 years. His biggest chart success came in 1976 with Doubly Devine, which reached the UK Top 20. In 1996, he topped Oasis in the pop video charts with his prog-influenced album The Big Country Line Dance Party.

He appeared at the Royal Variety Show, and shared bills with Roy Orbison, Dolly Parton, David Soul, Dolly Parton, Lena Zavaroni and Michael Jackson. In 2003, he was made an MBE for services to music.

Despite his achievements, he was often the subject of ribaldry about his yodelling, clothing and senescent audiences. Sydney said it was “water off a duck’s back,” and acknowledged he wasn’t to everyone’s taste. Indeed, he compared himself to Marmite – bit sticky, probably in these leather outfits – but added: “I haven’t done anybody any harm.” Correct. Not physically anyway.

Cult star

He became something of a cult figure and, accordingly, was invited to perform at T in the Park with sundry young persons.

In 2017, aged 78 and after ill health had latterly limited his performances to the three annual Pavilion gigs, the rhinestone cowboy saddled up for his first tour in 20 years, taking in Los Angeles, Motherwell and Largs.

Only joking about Largs. The grandfather of eight quipped: “I’ve been going longer than The Rolling Stones and I think I’m looking better than Mick Jagger is these days.”

Correct. He added: “Some people think I’m crazy planning another tour at my age but I’m in decent enough shape and I still love playing live. I never say never again but this could be my last farewell.”

Sydney Devine died in Ayr from a chest infection on 13 February 2021, at the age of 81.

Then First Minister Nicola Sturgeon led the tributes, saying: “For Scots of a certain vintage – which definitely includes me – the name Sydney Devine was once synonymous with Scottish entertainment. A true legend.”

Broadcaster Tam Cowan, a friend and fan, said Sydney was “a true Scottish showbiz legend”. Another good friend, Pavilion manager Iain Gordon, said: “He was the ultimate showman and performer and always took time for everyone, fans, staff and other performers.”

For all the banter and glitzy schtick, Sydney Devine was one of the Good Guys. In Heaven even today, the cry goes up: “Haw, Steak and Kidney, gie’s Tiny Bubbles.” And the angels throw their knickers at the stage.