Five Go Off Camping Again

    

 Our last appearance at Banbury Folk Club had been earlier this year. Then, I'd been delegated to drive across the border from Warwickshire into Oxfordshire. But a late foot injury meant I couldn't. So I was on crutches as I entered the Banbury Cross in March 2014, having been chauffeured there by Mick. I milked the sympathy for all it was worth that night, and it was worth it, because they asked us back. But this time, Mick had  made it clear to me that it was my turn to drive, unless I wanted to return there by Messerschmitt.

     Last night we helped these same Banbury Folk raise funds for their Festival in October. One of several Midlands Folk Festivals which I AM invited to. (Arff!) We thought it wise to bring reinforcements last night, so we came mob-handed. The full Five piece Big Band. And I do mean BIG. Myself, Dave Parr, Malc Gurnham, Mick Harris and Arnold. That's a combined weight of several tons, a combined age of 420 years, a lot of stringed instruments and an awful lot of Hook Norton.

      It was a lovely, balmy evening as, guided by MalcNav, I piloted the newly-repaired Focus across the Dassetts. Given the current madness of the A46 and A45 roadworks, I'd printed out an alternative, using The Fosse Way and the A423. MalcNav selected the scenic route for the final leg of the journey however, and so we passed through picture-postcard villages and several farmyards before arriving at the impressive Drayton Leisure Camping Complex near Banbury. (How they get that Air Show on at Farnborough, I'll never know. Where's the runway?).

     At the request of Derek and Mary we'd arrived early for what turned out to be a very efficient and conscientiously adjusted sound check by the excellent Richard Watkins. All digitalised and wireless. Excellent for a vocalist like me, as he committed the whole data to his IPad's memory. No cheating by over-exuberant guitarists, whanging up the volume to 11 during the set!
    Beforehand we had  a delicious barbecue. And some games like Bat the Rat,Tombola, and Dodge the Golf Ball. We'd shared cars to minimise discomfort, but I'm afraid that all this meant that some of our party were on the Hook Norton just after 6pm. As we had four hours to fill before taking to the stage, this could have been disastrous.

    For a while it looked as if it could become an extension of the monthly meetings of the Nuneaton & District Elderly Gentlemans' Binge Drinking Society (Folk Section). We quickly cleared the premises of Old Hooky, and then began making inroads into the other excellent output of this fine old Independent Brewery. Indeed, Arnold was so taken by the beer  that at one stage, he also helped himself to a stranger's pint and added it to a growing table full of bottles and pint pots. (Some of us obviously, were on soft drinks).

      Once the concert got under way we were treated to the lovely singing voice of Linda Watkins. She told us she had chosen to do a challenging set, but it all seemed effortless to me. Using a combination of instruments,including guitar, dulcimer and mandolin, she ran through a delightful selection of songs. Impressive.

      Toots and RagnRoll Fraser followed. Eclectic is the word. Toots played the accordion and sang harmoniously, whilst Ragn combined some excellent guitar work with songs of great diversity. We had a Bodhran-accompanied song about King Lud. We had some Fats Waller. And we had a Charleston. All delivered with good humour, some rehearsed and some (the loss of the set list, the beer glass going base over apex) not so. Toots did something strange to her accordion at one stage, which made it sound like a vibraphone. We looked expectantly across at Mick. "Can You do that?" we asked. No he couldn't, apparently.  

      Then we had an interval, followed by the Raffle draw and Announcements. These duties shared by Derek and Mary. Mary was looking very mobile following her recent structural alterations, and was skipping around like a spring lamb. Each time they mentioned future guests, the audience “oo'ed and aahhed” expressively, and with great fondness. I found myself wondering, wistfully, did they make expectant noises like that when our names were announced? Or just suck in breath through hollowed cheekbones?
       I need not have worried. They remembered us. It was clear from the first strains of “All Over Now” that they were going to be another singing audience, as they had been previously, in March. We built up the set, as we had at previous performances recently, by mixing Blues, Trad and comedy together.

    Thus, on the Eve of my 43rd Wedding Anniversary, what was for me an especially poignant “Need Your Love So Bad” was followed by “ If I were a Goat.” Now, it's probably fair to say that The Fred Dibnah Brigade at Market Bosworth, had struggled a little with this concept at Bosworth, last Sunday. Partly because Beyonce probably hadn't penetrated to deepest rural Leicestershire yet, and partly because a goat in them there parts was a form of transport or a meal, rather than an object with which to empathise. (Judging by the length of some of the beards, possibly also a family connection.?)

      But Banbury embraced the full Goat ethic enthusiastically. I'd spotted a lady sitting near the front who was obviously picking up the nuances of BPS humour during “The Odeon,” and who I also caught grinning through “ Down Our Street.” I locked eyes on her during “Goat,” “Folking Liberty” and our encore, “Albert Balls,” using her as a laughs barometer. Very effective. Our allotted time fairly bustled away. The only casualty was “Vigilante Man,” which I'd shuttled down a revised running order, anticipating we might lose it, anyway.

      The band really enjoyed playing it and the audience appeared to, also. The proprietor of the Drayton Complex came over afterwards to thanks me, so I guess the Management did, too. He seemed very happy. (They must have shifted a hell of a lot of Hooky, so he should be). I can't speak for the cat, wandering amongst us as we packed the gear away. But it too seemed relaxed.

    The rest of us straggled outside and carried the gear out to the cars, whilst indoors, Malc continued to make his tearful farewells and do a spot lot of networking. Finally, as the dawn coloured the sky far away to the East, he emerged from the bar, carrying his trusty bass. Huh! That Malc Gurnham!  He gets everywhere. Everyone knows him, and vice versa. He is even more ubiquitous on the Folk Scene than The Ubiquitous Ian Bland. If that is possible. ( I'm not convinced). They call Ian The Boomerang. He always comes back.

     Once Dave and I had settled MalcNav back onto the dash, it was time for the return journey to North Warwickshire. Like many late evening journeys North from the Banbury area, it was not without incident. The M40, as it almost always is at this time of the morning, was closed. However, MalcNav guided us through the lanes and across the byways, where a highlight for me was the deer grazing contentedly on the grass verge somewhere near Bascote. It seemed that Arnold (who was operating on MickNav) had something simmering on the Aga back home, for he went off like a bat out of hell along this section and all that we saw of him most of the time was his tail lights in the distance.

      On the outskirts of Long Itchington however, he inexplicably took a left, as we headed right towards the Duckpond, the A423 and our route homewards. (Perhaps there was an all night restaurant open in Leamington?). Our journey back was uneventful apart from seeing a gentleman appearing to be attempting some sort of meaningful relationship with a Green Wheelie Bin in Bulkington. We agreed that this would make a good theme for a new song.

    Nuneaton was in complete darkness, the City Fathers having decreed that all street lighting is Verboten after midnight. And boy, “all “meant all. What a relief it was to get back home finally to Wolvey. Lit up like a Christmas Tree, bless it, and still blazing defiant Light pollution skywards.

Piston Broke

Well chuffed to be invited back once again this weekend to The Battlefield Line for CAMRA's RailAle Fest at Market Bosworth Railway Station. Pretty well the centre of The Universe today, with a Traction Engine Rally and a Farmer's Market also on in this pretty little town. http://www.battlefield-line-railway.co.uk/

    On a quintessentially English Summer's day, what better place to be than “Bozzie”? In beautiful surroundings, on the outskirts of the town, threading your way between the Fairground Organs and Morris Dancers? Easing by the Fodens and the Fergies and  heading towards a big old LMS Goods Shed full of Real Ale, food and Fine Music My own CAMRA branch, Hinckley and Bosworth, were putting this Festival on, in conjunction with The Battlefield Line. (So called because the railway  meanders through countryside where Richard III fought the Lancastrians and fell, mortally wounded). 

     Thanks to Soundman Phil Benson's enthusiasm and commitment, he'd got there proper early to set up and drive his excellent P.A. on loan from Atherstone Folk Club.

Seriously, have you ever seen a Sound Engineer looking so relaxed? He's actually smiling! Or was this just after the moment during our set when he had leaned accidentally against a volume slider and made us all jump with White Noise/Feedback? 

    There was a bit of a scare when we arrived, as Phil told us glumly that the beer had all run out. There had certainly been a big hit on it last night but several of us were delighted to see that HBC had gamely driven over to Church End to rustle up an extra barrel of Goats Milk. Actually, there was loads of different beer left. Just a bit less choice, but it didn't seem to be deterring anyone much!

    Aided by Mark John and John and Sylvia Meechan, we'd planned to keep the festival goers entertained whilst they drank, ate, and rushed out occasionally to watch a “big 'un” thunder over the level crossing. And they don't come much bigger than this!

    The Goods Shed is an interesting venue to play. It is under cover but not enclosed, and so, beyond the big wide open doors you can see trains entering and leaving the station. Whilst performing, although on an elevated stage, you sometimes have to adjust the number you are doing, as engine drivers are required to signal the crossing as they leave the station. As they rumble past the back wall, the stage gently vibrates.

     Outside there are exhibitions of vintage vehicles , veteran bicycles, and country crafts. Inside,the audiences are made up of families, “Tickers” come to sample the beers, Railway enthusiasts (not an anorak in sight), truck drivers and real larger-than-life Fred Dibnah figures. And people come to eat the Ploughmans' Lunches or less healthy fast food alternatives.

    Mark John opened, right on time, thanks to Phil's efficient sound checks. He bounced into Folsom Prison, and covered everything from Simon and Garfunkel to Mumford and Sons.

Mark John

 Mark' s set  was well received, and  it probably earned him a slot at Atherstone next month.

     John Meechan and his wife Elaine followed. Singing songs about the Collieries we have lost, and Industrial Heritage. Very apt, in this setting, with the evocative smell of steam coal drifting in occasionally. This talented duo played Concertina, accordion and Guitar.

John and Elaine giving it some welly

  We followed with the first of two sets. We were in the four-man format of Mick (mandolin and mandola), Arnold,(steel guitar+12 and 6 string): Dave Parr (guitar) and myself. The first half fairly romped by, with "All Over Now" and "The Odeon" probably highlights. "If I were a Goat" our infamous Beyoncé cover was possibly a little too leftfield for an audience which included men in overalls and Greasetop hats, and several dogs. During "Lakes of Ponchartrain" I became aware of a lot of agitated tinkling and jingling coming from a table down on the floor to my left. What followed was a personal first for me. One of the Morris Dancers shook my arm, during verses four and five,whilst I was in mid-warble,  and said loudly, " Can you announce that The Morris Dancing is about to start outside please."

     It seemed after all my singing efforts, he had still mistaken me for just the M.C. Resisting the urge to plunge from the stage and rush out to see The Anker Morris (back-up section),I finished the song, completed one more and then announced a break. This seemed very kind, at the time. I assumed this would give them time to beat each other over the head with sticks before coming back inside to see us. Actually, I did go out and watch them. They were very good. And very hot.

     Our second half resumed with the Morris routine only half completed. We gave our audience more songs as they ploughed on through the Leatherbritches, the Elliswood and the Church End beers. Our usual mix of Blues, Folk and our own tunes. We called up Mark John for his inauguration into ParrotHood for our Finale-"Folking Liberty." Unable to gain the stage, due to it being so crammed with bodies, he played in troubadour style, from the floor, with a long lead.    

    "Folking " with its convoluted choruses, you have to sing oh so carefully, so as to avoid saying many rude words. It went well until another ruddy train pulled in. This time, as it left, there was a deafening cacophony of whistles and hoots as they thundered by outside a few metres behind us. From this I deduced that our ex-Fiddle player, Eddie Jones was on the footplate. What a card! Like something out of frigging Chuggington it was. It obliterated the final verse so...we did it again.

    Leaving the site afterwards was a bit like lunchtime at The Arc De Triomphe roundabout, if you know it. Somehow the Morris Men decided that this would now be a good place to complete their routine, and so they danced, literally, across the exit road. Hilarious. Exiting Motorhomes, Low loaders, Caravans, Steamrollers, Artics and all sorts of vehicles just well, basically got in each others' way, then rolled to a halt. A bit like a Le Mans start, but with hundreds of tons of iron involved. A grand day out. Hopefully we'll be back again next year.

    

 



 

 

Brutus

      I still believe that one of the most powerful of the original, self-penned rock songs the old six-piece electric format BPS did was "Brutus." It was a song written on several levels. It was about betrayal, and was largely inspired by a theatrical production of  Shakespeare's "Julius Caesar," which two of us had taken part in. We'd also studied the text for "A" levels and it had a sublime effect on us.

       Whilst the play is essentially about conspirators who plot to assassinate Caesar, featuring Brutus as one of the dodgiest characters, my lyrics were about broken friendships, about people who conspire to get under your skin and then let you down. About the uncertainty of some relationships, and how benign images can suddenly become sinister. I'm still quite proud of it.

     Someone asked me what happened to it, the other day. Well I still have a very rough recording of it, but at a guess I'd say it will never be performed anywhere again. A pity, for it was (for me) one of the best things the 6-piece rock format ever did. Audiences seemed to think so, too. The words were very dark, although  there was a deceptively gentle acoustic beginning. The vocal followed, with memorable power chords between the verses, to reinforce the accelerating gloom of the content. At the end of the vocal, a second "heavy" riff featuring descending power chords, tumbled into a free-flowing guitar solo. Returning eventually to end the song with the five notes of the central theme. Personally, I still cannot listen to it without the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

 

                         BRUTUS

A friend in the house is a fire in the hearth

The sun slowly rising:the magician's laugh

The flowers in a garden: a faraway train

The mist in a morning: the fragrance of rain

  But if you're not careful, and you tread on a crack,

  A friend in the house can be a knife in the back!

Brutus, you were the Judas in the garden

Brutus, you were the corner in the lane

Brutus, you were the Lenders in The Temple

 Brutus you were the friendly teacher's cane.

 Ah, Brutus: here you come again!

Brutus just plays chess with people's passions

Brutus seeks the weak link in the chain

Brutus takes relationships and kills them:

 Brutus thrives on misery and strain

 C'mon Brutus -here you come again!

 Brutus hides in sheepskins in the meadow

 Brutus waits in corners of your brain

 Brutus puts the poison in your whisky

 Brutus spits out  friendship down the drain

  Ah,c'mon Brutus: here you come again.

   Brutus put the knife behind in Caesar

   Brutus feeds on other people's pain

   Brutus weaves a tapestry of magic

   Brutus likes to see a good man slain

 Yeah, c'mon Brutus: here you come again!

On The Forum steps see the crimson run

In the eyes of others, see what you have done

Say farewell to trust, say goodbye to fame

 Who's that stranger coming? Brutus is his name.

The line-up on the recording I have was myself and the late Graham Caldicott sharing vocals,Vance Anderson on drums, Martin Smalldon on bass, Arnie on lead guitar and Mick on keyboards. Very atmospheric. It was recorded in an (empty) school hall in Coventry, where we used to hire rehearsal rooms. The final verse was never performed. No-one but me, not even the rest of the band, has ever seen it before.

No-Brayner at Beduff?

    Believe me, it takes some talent to make me buy 4 CD's in 6 days! Last Wednesday, I'd gone with another Parrot and a friend to drool over Joanne Shaw Taylor at Leamington Assembly. She was so hot (and I'm talking, clearly, in a guitar-playing context here), that I bought two CD's  there and then. Last night, the same three of us (and a hell of a lot more) saw Sunjay Brayne at Bedworth Folk Club's Old Black Bank base. I just had to have his CD's afterwards too, having seen him play and heard him perform. And he kindly autographed them for me. What a nice fellow. And his dad.

    I rarely buy CD's in Folk Clubs. The last one I bought was after having enjoyed David Bristow pickin' away at Stratford Folk Club last year. (Also highly recommended). I haven't seen him since then-hope he's o.k!

   Most of the superlatives have already been written elsewhere about Sunjay. What I saw and heard last night was a likeable and gifted young man who had stagecraft, a versatile vocal technique, a wry humour, and a real feel for the Blues-both singing it and playing it. His guitar technique and style is hard to explain-but descriptions of him being a "maestro" are not undeserved. He played two sets, one each side of the interval. Of which, more later.

 

    There was plenty of other talent there on show last night, too. Indeed, so popular was Sunjay as a draw that the canny amongst us (ahem!) had got their floor spots booked in early. It's a rare venue indeed where you see  artistes of the calibre of Dave Fry, DragonHead, Sue Sanders, Dave Webb and Joe Roberts sitting it out, content just to listen.

    Malc Gurnham and Gill Gilsenan kicked us off with some stirring tunes before Atherstone Folk Club's Residents Finger in The Jar took over.  Steve and Anne Beeson and  Phil Benson  were in fine form-as good as I've ever seen them. This was their first appearance at BFC. and it was a worthy debut.  For their second number, Steve sat it out, with Phil and  Anne handling the vocals. There was some debate beforehand about what they should be called as a duo. "Two Fingers" was the most polite, and most p.c. suggestion amongst some quite shocking alternatives being proposed by an already ribald audience. 

    They were followed by Thrupp'ny Bits and their loveable dog. (And I'm not talking about Des Patalong). It took me a while to work out what was different about Des until I realised he wasn't wearing THAT hat). Me saying that I'd been sharing a sofa with Barbara earlier. could again be misinterpreted. But I mean purely in a platonic sense and to better view the other floor singers more clearly. Thruppn'ys delivered a couple of characteristically rousing three part harmonies. Good stuff.

      Maria Barham followed, and fairly spanked through a brace of songs in a typically energetic and professional style.  Sunjay then finished the first half with the first of two sets. He began by strolling about like a troubadour amongst the punters, scorning the P.A. I loved him for that.

      Gill positively flew through the raffle and the Interval whizzed by. So quickly that The Black Parrot Seaside Co-operative (Five and a half piece format) were soon called upon to open the 2nd half for SB. I tuned up my tambourine, Arnold was juggling guitars and Dave Parr's battery failure  looked like delaying the re-start. Malc, twiddling anxiously away on the mixing desk and fingering his bass strings, was beginning to look at his watch. A very relaxed Man is Malc. (I've seen him VERY relaxed at the AGM of the Nuneaton and District Elderly Gentleman's Binge Drinking Society (Folk Section). But you wouldn't want to see him angry.

    We started with " If I Had Possession" and it was, though I say it myself, a fairly decent sound. "Black Jack David " then followed. ( Not in person-we sang it). I could hear feedback coming from somewhere as we began this song, and it wasn't off my vocal mike. That's my excuse, anyway. It threw me enough to fudge up the words to BJD  and confuse the audience utterly by giving them the  wrong chorus instructions. It took the poor loves until halfway through before they realised that, (not for the first time), I was talking and singing drivel. Turns out it was Sunjay's foot mike feeding back, by the way.

    Still, "Albert Balls" rescued us as he often does. The chorus singing in this was as loud as I have ever heard it, anywhere. And although Sue Sanders likes to pretend she is a shy girl, I could see her fiddling away to our left. We've decided we're going to mike her up and drag up on stage next time we do that song. (Hence the "Five and a half " Parrots).

.

    Sunjay's second set  was  as stunning as the first. What a coup he was for Bedworth!  My favourites were "Love You Like a man",  "Sitting On Top of The World", "Statesborough Blues", and two John Martyn tunes, " May You Never " and "Fairytale Lullaby".  Beforehand I'd tried to explain to someone who'd not heard him, what Sunjay sounded like. "Think of a very early John Martyn-as on "London Conversation" I fumbled, " Then add in some Janschian Blues licks...and a whacking great dose of  originality..."  So it was lovely to hear him tackle the Old Reprobate's songs so sensitively. We were also treated to a lovely arrangement of the Tom Rush song "No Regrets." Those of us old enough to remember the original (99%) joined in with some tasteful harmonies on the choruses. I have to say that myself and the Third Thrupp'ny Bit,  were standing alongside each other at the bar at this time, and our harmonies on this chorus were really good. Can't see anything collaborative coming from it though.  " Parrot Bits "  doesn't exactly trip off the tongue. (Beak?)

White Sugar-Joanne Shaw Taylor

     As a rule I review only the performances of fellow artistes, whom I've shared a stage or a Hall with. But I'm making an exception today, because last night a couple of us Parrots saw a towering performance from a British guitar Prodigy. Someone I'm convinced will become monumental in Blues and Rock history. You really have to get out and see her whilst you can still afford to. She's Stadium-bound for sure.

     I've been privileged, during my grizzled old life, to have seen and heard some fine Guitar Icons strutting their stuff. Jimmy Page, Bert Jansch, Peter Green,John Lee Hooker, Paul Kossoff, Stan Webb, Stephan Grossman and The Grounhog's front man T.S. McPhee are amongst some of those I've enjoyed most. Over the years I've also heard and seen a very broad cross-section of hugely diverse bands and artistes. Fairport Convention, Pink Floyd, Eclection, Family, Coliseum, The Edgar Broughton Band, Boney M (not by intent!!) Atomic Rooster (loud!) Champion Jack Dupree, The Sorrows, John Mayall's Bluesbreakers, Darts, East of Eden et al. Many types, many genres.

    However, last night was a “hairs on the back of the neck” occasion,in a new venue for me-the excellent and atmospheric “Assembly” in Leamington. A big ballroom, superbly equipped for live music, with a massive stage, easily viewed from all areas and including a tiered downstairs area and balconies. With a decent,air-conditioned bar, the place was clean and excellent throughout. It reminded me of the long lost Jazz Club in Coventry's defunct Hotel Leofric. And the lovely if corny interior reminded me of The Theatre Royal in Stratford, East London. It's a venue I'll be returning to. The nearest car park is nostalgically adjacent to the site of the old Leamington Spa (Avenue) station. with cheap and easy parking. A place where, centuries ago (-ish!!) I would get off a steam train from Coventry and cross to a larger, cleaner, more glamorous General station.

     A useful,competent support band-Federal Charm from Manchester-opened up. Young and ballsy, their performance was more energetic (and noisier!) than their eponymous debut album. I had a chat with their bassist-very approachable-seemed like nice boys! They tried hard and they set the tone and pace, before Joanne Shaw Taylor and her band stepped out. I've been listening to her stuff for a few years now. And have liked it very much. Remember Annie Lennox doing the televised Jubilee Concert in 2012, in front of Buckingham Palace? JST handled some of the solos in that set.

    JST strapped on what looked like a well-loved Les Paul, and then proceeded to thrash it most impressively for nearly two hours. Smiling a lot of the time, but grimacing through some of the (extraordinary) solos or (heart rending) slow blues. She sings like a latter-day Janis Joplin, using a voice which has a remarkable range. There is nothing to dislike. However, if you object to thunderous amplified music which makes the floor shake, frown at guitar styles which range through funk chops, power chords, blues riffs and haunting tonal variations, avoid. Every single song (and there were many) had a solo. Some had several. Long, intense solos, ridiculous in their intensity and diversity. Not everyone's cup of tea but definitely mine.

Wikpedia says she now lives in Detroit. I know she grew up around Birmingham, and last night she told us she was based in Leamington when in the U.K. (I bet she says that to all the lads). She's 28, very attractive and awesomely talented.. There's a lot of competition in this area. A whole rush of young white females who are suddenly emerging as great Axewomen. Singer/guitarists like Chantel McGregor,Samantha Fish and Bex Marshall. Leading the way, with a style and panache the great Bonnie Raitt would applaud, is JST. Just. Simply. Tremendous.