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.
