There's
been a lively debate on Facebook over the last few weeks. In which
some of those with an interest in organic, locally provenanced “live”
music participated. It was triggered by the annual onset of the Radio
2 Folk awards. It considered the stratification of folk and acoustic
music, into a growing diversity of compartments. And in a few cases
(my own included) it carried a rant about the gentrification of Folk
Luvvies and the growing gulf between them and grass roots circuit
performers.
This
afternoon, Cafe Society in Atherstone, North Warwickshire, came face
to face with “hands-on” music. No Dressing Room riders, no road crews, no Radio D.J. simpering about proper folk. There, in the Main Street, that
delightfully-themed eatery The
Larder hosted its monthly music session. Those popping in for a sarnie or a
teacake were treated to some live entertainment. Which they
embraced, as they have since this event began last year.
It
is almost theatrical the way that music, performance and real life
interact here. The performers stroll about like minstrels, skilfully
avoiding the waitresses and customers seeking a table or ordering at
the counter. They have to do this because customers come and go. Most
seem thrilled to be entertained and the few that are merely bemused
soon acclimatise. Indeed, most are joining in the chorus songs well
before the session is over. Everyone is a winner. Customers dwell and
spend more. Performers get a chance to sample the unique atmosphere
(and delicious cuisine.)
Doubtless the pavements of Stratford
on Avon and Leamington Spa are used to cabaret and street art. But
this is a hairy-arsed old Industrial town where they used to make
hats. They don't **** about, Atherstone folk. Only yesterday the
(single) Main Street was shut, as it is every Shrove Tuesday. The shop
fronts are boarded up and hundreds of adults fight for several hours
over a scruffy old piece of leather,once it has been tossed into the
seething crowd. To an outsider this might look like an unpleasant
mass scrap. The kind of public mayhem which once kicked off whenever
Nuneaton Borough and Atherstone United met for a local derby at Manor
Park or Sheepy Road.
But
the riot vans and coppers were not there to prevent what happened
yesterday:only to oversee it and to ensure that the melee/maul/ruck
passed off as peacefully as possible, and with serious injury
minimalised. They've been doing this on Pancake day for the last 815
years. They reckon they've got it about right. So if Atherstonians go
into their local cafe for Spam and Chips or Bubble and Squeak, and
there happens to be someone singing or holding a guitar, they don't
bat an eyelid. They listen AND participate, no bother.
So
it was that, as I reached the end of “Bonio Romeo,” an
80 year old lady(so she told me), forsook her walking frame, grabbed me instead and
said,” You sing lovely you do,love. If I 'ad me teeth in I'd
sing along with yer!” This same lady had earlier waved a Cuddly
Mickey Mouse figure at me during another number. As I finished the
rapidly-blooming “Down Our Street,” she noisily announced,
“ Them milk 'osses did fart, an' all!” Magic. I bet
she'll be back. I hope so.
As
kick-off time approached, I was the only performer who had arrived. A
lady stirring her tea smiled. “ That's all right love-you'll
just have to do it all on your own!” she explained. (And don't
think I couldn't madam!) Steve Beeson, one third of Finger in The Jar
then arrived, and between us, we started things off, hoping the
Cavalry would arrive. They soon did, in the shape of Malc Gurnnham
and Gill Gilsenan. And so a lovely time followed, with us taking it in
turns, doing a couple of songs each. Even Catherine Cope, who had
been hiding discretely behind a pillar, plucked up courage and gave us a
spirited (and rather earthy!) rendition of Paul Simon's “ Fifty
ways.”
“ Bonio
Romeo” was that rare thing, a Parrot request. And with “The
Odeon” “and “If I were a Goat,” added, my personal repertoire was
becoming heavily burdened with self-penned comedy/nostalgia songs.
Time yet to redress the balance though, so I dished up “Raglan Road,”
and “Lakes of Ponchartrain,” getting a few diners sniffing into
their serviettes whilst doing so.
It
was such a gradely afternoon that we were even given a post 4pm
encore by the Management. The whole company present belted out “ Go
Lassie Go" as a finale. It sounded divine inside, and you tell from the
expressions of passers by that they were wondering outside just where the heavenly
music was coming from.
https://www.facebook.com/TheLarderAtherstone
