A Dog Called Rover

     It had been over three weeks (25 days, precisely) since I'd last  got to my feet and sung in public. That was at the excellent  Hinckley Act, where 2/3 of Black Parrot Seaside had made their debut. We appeared to go down quite well there, but even whilst up on stage that night, I was aware of already incubating a most unpleasant and debilitating allergic reaction. One which I knew was beginning to affect my voice.

    Thereafter, and like something out of the film Alien, it  invaded my  respiratory system and  ultimately took posssession of  it. (I were proper poorly, like). I had a partial hearing loss, vision problems, couldn't breathe properly, totally lost my sense of taste, my sense of smell, and didn't sleep properly for a fortnight. It's taken three separate sets of medication and two visits to my G.P. since then, to at least get this invasive condition on the run. (Not literally: it wasn't that kind of infection!). 

    So it felt very good indeed, having come successfully through all that, and after a successful rehearsal on Thursday, to be back on my feet. With my bandmates away and up to mischief in Cornwall, it was to be a solo outing-my first one in ages. Nevertheless I felt confident enough last night to drive the handful of twilight miles across the Warwickshire Wolds and down the hill into Monks Kirby. Along Cloudesley Lane, where my Great Grandad William and Great Grandma Maria once lived. Past the church where they got married in 1878. For another Sunday Night session at The Bell,  in the company of The Sly Old Dogs and Friends.

  The SODs have a fluid and deceptively relaxed format, which belies a high standard   of musicianship and an encyclopaedic knowledge of Folk, Blues, Country and accoustic music. You can always count on there being different combinations-and I'm not just talking about Bob's Long Johns. Last night for instance, we had up to three banjos fulminating at one time. Previously, we've had the same number of fiddles,a tuba and even a full-sized Harp. You never know what's going to turn up.

    Good, too, to see Captain Pete (Willow) back at the helm, recovered himself, from an illness which had kept him away from the March session. The Bell is the best place (currently) I know of for audience singing. I'm not dissing other venues here-for many I know run it very close. Warwick and Bedworth, for example. But it must be a Sunday night thing at The Bell. The audience here are knowledgeable, relaxed, good humoured, and willing to back any singer who asks for their help.There is mild banter and heckling,and plenty of foot-tapping.  I think they like to take a little drop of the North East Warwickshire pocheen before coming out. Whatever the secret, it's impressive.

   As usually happens at a SODs session, we were taken around the world and across the centuries. We had songs from Wales. Songs in Gaelic. Old favourites like Rose of Allandale, Bonny White Horseman and Over The Hills. (Due to some pre-planning-Tony's version and , not ours!)  We sailed on brigantines, waited on quaysides, fought in battles and lamented on faraway hillsides. The entire room sang the full lyric of that lovely Mr. Leitch composition., "Colours," and we had some exquisitely sad instrumentals. We witnessed also, a remarkable um, "relaxed ", demonstration of Irish Dancing. The Ashphalting version. And Pete sang the timeless "How can a poor man Stand such times and live? " with real, post you-know-whose-funeral feeling. Written by Blind Alfred Reed in 1929, and most famously covered by Ry Cooder and The Boss. Speaking of the Boss, Paco himself (Mine Host), appeared from behind the bar, to join in and play the Spoons (very competently) during one medley.

   I was quite nervous. I'd put myself under pressure by selecting three songs which were still very experimental as far as the band are concerned. "Lakes of Ponchartrain," Gus Elen's "If It Wasn't For The Houses In Between" and our own "What a Folking Liberty." Lakes and Houses haven't yet featured in a set, though we've rehearsed them pretty close to readiness. "Folking" is probably our most recent self-penned song, and is gaining a bit of a reputation. . All three songs are vocally quite demanding. So this would test the pipes out all right. You lucky folk who play an instrument! You can accompany yourself, and if the instrument goes wrong you can change the strings, put a capo on, or simply trade it in. The voice needs only a clear set of passages,a half-decent ear, a bit of a sense of pitch and time, and away you go. If all or any of these sense become impaired-it makes things bloody difficult. " Use it or lose it," as the phrase goes.

   Anyway. "Lakes" went fine-I think I sang it there once before? I'd never done "Houses" publicly anywhere before, but that went well, too. As a band we've been influenced by lots of artistes-and Cosmotheka always featured highly. We'd always intended to do a song Dave and Al Sealey perfected-we just never got round to it. "Houses" is the one. I'm hoping that the full compliment of us will be doing it at Bedworth Folk Club on 22nd May.  

    I'm delighted to say that "Folking" went well, too. I've never heard the chorus returned in quite such a genteel manner,which leant a frankly rather eerie quality to what is a very ribald song. Not the first time we've done it at The Bell, which is possibly why people really appeared to grasp the inherent (but well-intended) naughtiness of it.

    We finished the evening with " Go Lassie Go." Secretly, I'd shortlisted my alternative rendition of this song as a possible performance number last night. I've heard it performed in so many different ways, in so many different venues. And always differently to the version I know. Which is an Alex Campbell one. Learned,not at his knee,but from vinyl,long,long ago.  (Understandably?) it is very scottish,this version and is one with an additional verse I've rarely heard sung elsewhere. It's a beautiful song and melody. Audiences always respond to that.

    One of the things that fascinates me about "traditional" songs is the way people know so many different versions. Whether you transcribe them from books, from sleeve notes, from the Internet,or from memory-things change sometimes in their transcription. Verses in different order (sometimes nerves makes one sing them in the wrong sequence-I can vouch for that!). Individual changes in dialect or pronunciation. Do all these different variations and interpretations demean the original? No. It's just the process of evolution, which is organic, and happens naturally, when songs are handed down or passed around.

Caught In The Act

        How refreshing (and unusual nowadays) to go to a new music venue and come away laden only with positives! And as a performer, not to be canonised, but just made welcome,and treated with equal  respect, regardless of any perceived "status."

          This club is probably my nearest,and yet for various reasons,it is one we've often intended to visit but never got round to it. One reason probably is guilt. The club base is just a  few doors up from what used to be the finest Transport Books emporium in the country. When it closed it  held a clearance sale, Arnold and I filled our cars up with stuff. I even went back again for a second load.  My shelves are groaning with cut-price bargains from Watling Drive!

       Certainly one of the more interesting venues from the outside. Inside,very professionally run. A well-heated building with a big concert room upstairs. With  nice seating and conveniently sited drinks tables,a good, well-lit stage, and a super P.A. system, lovingly and effectively monitored by a sound engineer who knows exactly what they are doing. A separate tuning-up room,and a separate room serving refreshments,and a "merchandising table."  Brilliant. No Septic Monkey here!

        It helped of course, to find our old partner in Parrothood, Bill Bates in charge of proceedings. Probably the first time in ages I've seen Bill without his trademark trail of chocolate bars- which he sometimes uses to woo an audience. No cliques or cronyism with Bill compering and everyone gets a fair crack of the whip. A further bonus-two old BPS friends from the past are also appearing-Steve Adams and Rob Armstrong.

   Steve is one of those hallowed individuals-someone who once recorded the Parrot. An exclusive brethren including both Zama and Spindrift Records, Chris King, Pathway Studios,(London), Monty Bird Studios (Warwick), Dave Blundy's Legendary "Woodlands Tapes"  and a studio session somewhere off the Ring Road in Coventry.  Which was interrupted by an odd phone call from someone saying a flying saucer was landing in their back garden. I kid you not. The majority of these archives have been wiped, erased or made into flowerpots. Our efforts long ago in Steve's delightful canalside cottage all these years ago seem also to have suffered that fate. Judging by his sheepish grin when I reminded him of them! 

   Floor sets booked in advance, options given on whereabouts one would like to appear on the bill, attentive adjustments to mikes and pick-ups for each individual performer-these are all  touches that make an artiste feel welcome. I also strongly believe that such attention ensures a better performance, reduces nerves and enhances confidence.  So everyone attending is immediately a winner.

     Bill performed several familiar songs, one of which has become a bit of an earworm for me, due to its percussive guitar backing and repetitive, plaintive chorus.  In which a very reluctant miner  pleads with his father, begging not to be sent back down the Pit again. Bill is a deceptive performer. He projects an image of affable absent-mindedness, but beneath that lurks a fine guitarist, an excellent songwriter and an all round good egg. His comedy is excellent, but like us, he throws in the occasional serious song, just for balance, and to show that life is not always a mere bundle of laughs.

     Though I've been corresponding with Steve through social networks recently, I'd not seen him perform " live " since he used to do spots for us at the Folk Club we ran  in Brinklow. It was reassuring  to see and hear that though we've both changed physically (!!), he's lost none of that edge which he always possessed. A talented musician, and a rasping, barbed vocal delivery which only serves to accentuate an almost Lehrer-like humour. New songs or old-all delivered with that  waspish wit. Excellent.

      Rob Armstrong and his legendary guitars we've all admired for years. Partnering Roddy in the Grunt Band, he first inspired us to develop a comedic side. He was on great form last night,pounding out solid tunes and good songs effortlessly on one of his own machines. Dennis added a differnt angle, with a collection of his and others songs. I'd not seen him before. I enjoyed his rendition of a Dylan cover, and his complex guitar picking.   

    We performed "Over The Hills"-I checked first-no-one else was doing it-(!!!) The Odeon,Courting is a Pleasure, and What a Folking Liberty. We finished with a rousing version of Albert Balls. The audience totally got all the humour, and listened politely to the serious stuff. What more can one ask for?