Christmas at Church.

      Firstly, let's look on the bright side and count our blessings. Number one: we got there and back safely. Number Two: last night we raised shed loads of money (£132) and collected trolleyfuls  of food.  All of which will be donated to Nuneaton Food Bank. Some poor soul who doesn't share The Bullingdon Boys mantra of “we're all in this together” will hopefully now have a better Christmas  as a result of that. We would have collected even more food if everyone had read their Facebook messages beforehand! We had a huge turnout, which was SO commendable given the conditions. There were plenty of laughs-some rehearsed some not.

     Our set was enjoyable to play and judging by the audience reaction, they had a great time, too. The chorus singing was epic: the participation immense. The bar seemed to be doing a roaring trade and the car park was full, if a little like Lake Ontario at times. Church End Brewery, one of my favourites ( I have their t-shirt), did Black Parrot Seaside the honour of naming a beer after us. Sadly, as I was driving, I stayed on  soft drinks and bottled water. Anyway, here it is. Good times.  Manly hugs to whoever was responsible. And thanks for presenting me with the Pump Clip afterwards!

       Even getting to windy, rain-lashed, isolated Ridge Lane last night took a Superhuman effort. In broad daylight it is a pleasant spot, high up in the Nuneaton Fells, with picnic tables affording panoramic views over North Warwickshire. In the dark, with an approach through woods that wouldn't disgrace the film set of Mordor, it was intimidating. Later, as the refugees trickled in, I heard of acts of real heroism out on the road. Like the newly qualified novice driver who, on arriving at Wood Farm Brewery Tap, many miles away in Leicestershire, reset the satnav and ploughed on. In foul weather, she drove her car and her passengers back up the A5 and through the Nuneaton Everglades. Well done, Kathy. Like those who worked late, snatched a bite to eat and came from Coventry, Bulkington, Beduff and Burbage to cheer us on. Well done for even getting there.
     Yes, last night, "even getting there"  in itself was challenging. Let alone setting up, getting the sound right, marshalling floor spot performers and (unsuccessfully) attempting to get all those who wanted to, herded into the back room for the AFC Christmas party. I arrived early in a well-intentioned but entirely unsuccessful attempt to bring some semblance of order to the night's proceedings. As things turned out, we had at least three big introductions, only one of which was rehearsed. Or correct. Due to the furniture configuration, a few dozen Parroteers could not even get into the room for the first half. Including me. Hence my coat, my props, the food donations, the lavatory and my family were all scattered round different points of the building. My blood pressure readings at this point would have been interesting. And potentially fatal.
     I got soaked to the skin unloading gear-even though the journey from car to performance area was less than the length of the bar. The bags of props, novelties, food donations and costumes fought with the assembled ranks of instrumentation, giving performers (especially those of generous proportions), little room to manoeuvre. As members of the band continued to straggle in, they brought reports and rumours of the roads flooding. By the start, I was texting those who hadn't arrived to turn back. Ever the optimist, me!

       But we finally got on, beyond  tennish. Last night's Black Parrot Seaside line-up (above) was the usual three suspects, supplemented by Malc Gurnham on acoustic bass and David Parr on guitar. With a delightful debut on Concertina from John Meacham-the 26th musician to have guested with the ever-expanding BPS Collective.

     Having heard the way poor old Steve Beeson "died" first half, each time he manfully strove to read one of my carefully scripted news items, we dispensed with the “Last Week's Quiz “ stand-up items, and just ran through a pre-arranged set list.  We had successfully imported a large family group from the other room, and they ably assisted with distribution of items ensuring that audience participation was maximised. So much so that not all of it came back afterwards. Here's the set list:

The Odeon                        

All Over Now                     

The Bold Pirate

Lighten Up It's Christmas

Bring It On Home              

Here it is Merry Christmas 

At The Septic Monkey  
The Whistler 
The Santa Claus Express
Christmas Carols  and Songs Medley
What a Folking Liberty    
Albert Balls   

   " The Whistler" and "Santa Claus Express " were hilarious, thanks to an audience participation performance which would have had Gareth Malone weeping. "Septic Monkey " was another highlight, with our own rigged in house "Raffle" expertly co-ordinated from the floor by ex-PennyRoyal singer Fiona Coulson.  Disturbingly,some of the more horrible prizes were retained by audience members. I expect they'll feature in a Secret Santa somewhere, over the next few days?                                    

    Besides Resident House Band Finger Up The Khyber,  there were loads of floor singers first half and second half. John Meacham, Brian and Marie, Ian Bland, Dave Walker, Malc and Gill amongst them. But I couldn't see or hear much of it, as I became trapped in the other bar, and was unable to regain my strategic position front of house. I was however, able to assist Messrs Parr, Gurnham, Beeson and Benson (Solicitors?) in a memorable Club mix of Abba and Pinky and Perky. Yes I know it isn't folk. But who gives a Folk if people are enjoying themselves? 

    I've been to every AFC session so far. But Lordy, it was crowded in there last night! And hot. On each occasion, early attendees, few of whom I recognise,  rapidly invade the performing area, like patients colonising a Doctor's Waiting Room.  Once ensconced  there, a few nurse a half pint for hours and seem  reluctant to move. Except when the interval raffle is announced.  When the rush for the exits is palpable. We could do with a retired bus conductor in there to encourage responsible crowd control. Or perhaps install some Proms-style crush barriers. But in the absence of that, some serious table-re-arranging will be required if future punters are to be able to even gain access to concerts. Still: overcrowding and congestion: what  lovely (and rare) logistical problems for Folk Club Organisers and hosts to have to ponder, eh?

 

 

Christmas is Coming and The Goose is Gettng Scared

   Next Wednesday sees the Atherstone Folk Club's First EVER  Christmas Party. At Church End Brewery Tap, Ridge Lane Warwickshire. CV10 0RD. Actually, as near Nuneaton as Atherstone. Up in the wilds,  off the B4114, but if you have a SatNav you'll be fine. Otherwise hire a minibus or come in convoy.

      Starting at 8pm, and with free admission,(other than a tin, for donation to a Food Bank-see final sentence),  what's on offer next Wednesday? Well, apart from some of the finest Real Ale brewed in the country,with 8-10 beers on draught,  just the THREE HOURS of decent live music and Festive Frolics. INCLUDING:

A First half   so jammed with guests  who have requested floor spots, that they are only getting one song each.

A Half Time Interval with a Proper , Legitimate and sensible Raffle

A Second half hosted by Black Parrot Seaside. Whose set will include:

• A five piece BPS, with the most  guitars you've seen since Wishbone Ash:
• A second, rigged, musical  Raffle-with prizes you are not going to want to miss.
• A few sensible songs:
• Covers of Sam Cook and Rolling Stones classics:
• A few slightly sillier songs:
• Answers to Last Week's Christmas Quiz:
• A Guest Appearance from a singing frog:
• Other Guest musicians: 
• A lot of chorus singing:
• Quite a bit of communal music-making from the audience (free instrumentation provided):
• Some Fancy Dress:
• No juggling:
• Risk Assessments:
• Interesting Folk- themed Variations of Traditional Carols:
• Irreverent swipes at those making immense Royalties from Shopping Mall Music

It appears that it's likely to be RAMMED-so get there early, and no sneaking out before the interval, so that you don't have to buy a raffle ticket. Cheapskate.

ALL PROCEEDS To Be donated to a local FOODBANK in time for Christmas. So bring tins. Full ones, mind -empty ones are not allowed.

In On The Act

A packed guest list for December's Club night last night, as Black Parrot Seaside hosted proceedings there and finished off the evening with a set employing  our five-piece format.

Serenading us beforehand, with a dazzling array of musicianship, were (in sequence) Phil Briggs, Mark John, Phil Benson, Malc Gurnham and Gill Gilsenan with Dave Parr,  Rob Armstrong, Dennis O'Sullivan and Bob Tibbetts. A couple of those requesting floor spots did not show-and to be honest, I don't know where we'd have put them if they had!

   How to leave an impression on arrival. 

BPS made a spectacular entrance, as Mick, our multi-instrumentalist, decided to make some technical adjustments to the very swanky window blinds in the Entrance Lobby. Mick has developed an annoying  habit of carrying his mandola in a soft case, on his back. This does leave him free to carry other instruments with both hands, but it also causes many Laurel and Hardy moments when he turns round quickly and almost decapitates passers-by . We've tried to dissuade him from doing this , as our Insurance premiums are high -but I reckon he thinks it makes him look kinda cool, like a Busker or something. Anyway, he had a joust with those blinds even before we got to the room upstairs where we would be performing. This incident so excited the musical frog concealed in my travel suitcase that it spontaneously burst into song and began croaking a very hoarse version of "Jingle bells" from inside the case.

 

    Our usual three- piece line-up was supplemented last night by Malc on acoustic bass and Dave Parr on guitar. Highlights of our set were yet more Happy Birthday songs: the argument over whether we were going to perform "Dirty Gertie" or not: (we didn't) the Singing Frog leading us into a debut version of " Lighten Up It's Christmas," and watching Phil Benson nodding off as we sang "Lakes of Ponchartrain."

 

   Hinckley Act is a very special and very different setting. It's not actually in Hinckley, but on a Business Estate just off the A5. The facilities are first class, the place is run with a high degree of professionalism, and the artistes are treated with immense respect. It is always a pleasure to play there. Everything we did was recorded-so watch this space.

" I shall sing ziz only vonce"

   " Good moaning."    The first of a two-header yesterday, came in the delightful (new-to-Folk) setting of The Larder, in Atherstone's High Street- ("This fine old town once known for hats," as one of the Nation's greatest (now 64 years old) singer-songwriters once described it).

     Run by Simon and Georgia, The Larder  is a cleverly-themed "1940's Eatery, " right in the middle of the town's Main Street. A sort of Dad's Army Bistro, with a themed menu and costumed staff included. I can personally recommend the sausage sarnies-with a choice of 4 different sorts of Banger.

     Assembled there from 2.30pm onwards were some luminaries of the North Warwickshire Folk Scene: Atherstone Folk Club residents "Finger in The Jar", John and Elaine Meacham, Bedworth Folk Festival Director  Malc Gurnham, with Gill Gilsenan, Ian Bourne, Maria Barham, and yours truly. The bemused diners, squashed into the few remaining tables, could not believe their luck as a fairly mundane Wednesday afternoon was transformed into a Wonderland of song. The group sang in rounds. The accent was largely on traditional songs with hearty choruses. Just the sort of thing to accompany Bubble and Squeak or Spam Fritters and a mug of tea. But in what is going to be a very successful setting, anything goes.

    We also had a few contemporary songs, and some unaccompanied. Towards the end, a massive wave of spontaneous nostalgia broke out, and the whole Café ran through a medley of songs with a wartime connection. Such as "White Cliffs" "Goodbye Dolly Gray"  and "It's a Long Way to Tipperary." When I left, at around 4.20pm a very long and impromptu extended mix of "Sweet Chiming Bells" had broken out, and was showing no signs whatsoever of winding down.

     

           My accompanist was delayed by some late tuition complications and so  as my contribution I was forced to sing "Black Velvet Band" " Go Lassie Go" and " On Raglan Road,"  Not all at once, of course. That would be selfish and intrusive. I took my turn like everyone else.  

 

       Maria is renowned for her wind-milling guitar style, and amongst the highlights for me was  her making some spectacular technical adjustments to the Christmas decorations with her guitar neck.. This was even before she started playing it.  And it was so touching to hear the Company  singing a couple of Birthday songs to some rheumy-eyed old codger who'd wandered in off the street. A thin thread of drool dripped slowly from his chin to the floor, as he crooned nostalgically along with them, through wizened gums. (That would be me).  

 

    It was also entertaining to see the startled looks of passers by as they paused to see where all the noise was coming from. Blimey, they haven't seen anything as mad as this since the most recent Atherstone Ball Game. (That is really mad-I can assure you).  Next one is in January. Can't wait. Not for the singing-I need to sneak in a crafty Dripping buttie whilst no-one else is watching.  I grew up on them. It's why I'm so big-boned.

Black Parrot Seaside (and friends) at Bedworth Folk Festival

      As yesterday's Church End and Hobgoblin finally wears off, it is time to reflect on our two Saturday appearances  at Bedworth's 2013  Folk Festival. Really, I'd have liked this to have been more.  In the Big Band format I think we sound really cool, and it's just so much FUN!

      Our afternoon  appearance was in the FM Lounge at Bedworth Civic Hall. We followed the superb Julie Neale. She sang and picked guitar as melodically and wonderfully as ever-although due to a previous accident, she arrived and left via a wheelchair. Get better soon, Julie!  

    
 The three-piece Parrot  were augmented by Malc Gurnham (Only the ruddy Festival Director himself -ahem!) on base, and Dave Parr on guitar.  Here's a bit of an arty shot of the five of us all on stage, courtesy of Justin Archer.

.

We started as we usually do nowadays, with "The Whistler."  It's a good ice-breaker, and often (but not always!) puts the audience into a positive frame of mind.This venerable old BPS song goes right back to our  vinyl album of 1978. It also appeared on the most recent CD. It's still a proper hoot  "live." (Literally). If you haven't seen us recently, whistles, tooters, blowers and squeaky toys are distributed beforehand. We then invite the audience to join in with us on the choruses and with the Instrumental section, mid-song. They can just whistle along if they prefer but they seem to appreciate the additional instrumentation. 

 

     Their part began pitifully to be honest, although it gets quite reasonable by the end. Frankly, it is quite shocking to see (and hear) quite how uncoordinated the British public can be. It is also very, very funny to watch them and to listen to them. Sometimes it makes me forget the words, laughing at them.

 

       We were determined to defy an occasional  media tendency to stereotype us merely as whacky zany loveable old clowns. Undeniably, we can do that, too-sometimes. Even without the music. But we followed the hilarity with three relatively straight "covers." I'd like to think that  Nic Jones, Bobby Womack, Little Willie John and  Messrs Green and  Jagger  might feel we treated "Courting is a Pleasure," " Need Your Love So Bad, " and "It's All Over Now," at least respectfully.   They went down well, but soon it was time to crank things up again. So we then delivered "The Odeon," and  "Albert Balls"  with "Lakes of Ponchartrain " sandwiched in between them. Our finale was that rugged BPS standard "What a Folking Liberty." Even the Civic Hall Staff seemed to enjoy that. 

 

     Norman Wheatley followed us onstage, delivering  a mix of mellow, mellifluous musings (he'll like that alliteration). His excellent "Disgruntled" song left nary a rib untickled.  Later, there was an impromptu encore for me, when  Damian Clarke  had become disoriented and entangled in the Civic Hall complex. This meant that temporarily we had an empty stage, so compere  Ali O' Brien invited me back up to ad lib a solo. I began "Peggy Gordon"  but three verses in, and over the heads of the audience, I could see poor old Damian in the distance, struggling towards us through a network of fire doors. Laden with his Dulcimer and Hurdy Gurdy and stuff. I could have done another nineteen verses of Peggy, but that would have put off everyone else's timings. So, (nobly I thought), I broke off abruptly and handed the baton back to Ali and  Damian. Who does indeed, make a very nice noise.  Big thanks to the FM Lounge sound crew who were attentive, skilful and sensitive to the individual quirks of the artistes.

 

      Yesterday evening we travelled back over the lunar landscape and darkened caravans of Bedworth Rugby Club car park. Being next to the by-pass, on the outer moons of Bedrock, this truly was a "Fringe" event.  This time we were based in the eerily lit music room at as part of a romp compered by the affable Bill Bates. With Justin Archer both providing the P.A. and driving it expertly. Chris Tobin kicked us off with some potent guitar licks, a scary blue light, some wonderfully nostalgic songs and  a few of his own numbers chucked in for good measure. For a while we could hear Ian Bland underneath Chris's vocals, still crooning away through the P.A. That was also a bit disconcerting, as he wasn't there. (Typical Aussie-they just have to get in on everything). I could have hugged Chris for making his encore a song which featured the audience being encouraged to whistle along with him. Because....... we opened with-you-know-what.

 

     Our  evening slot  saw a four piece Parrot,  with Malc occupied elsewhere. Dave Parr stayed with us and  gamely joined us for every song.  We performed several  tunes we'd done at The Civic, earlier, (audience musicianship during "The Whistler" was again, excruciating)  and added in "Bring It On Home" and "On Bedworth Bank." The latter was a very salty version-but it was late at night. During our set (again) I could see a potent little melodrama developing near the door, with the band and audience mostly oblivious to it.   

     Karen Orgill and her dad were politely dealing with a couple of enormous blokes who it seemed to me, had been celebrating earlier Rugby games rather too enthusiastically. Now,   I was a substantially built schoolboy ( my mum affectionately called it big-boned). So I was sometimes press-ganged into playing Rugby. Usually in the second row of the scrum. Not for long-because  as soon as I realised how brutal this activity was,  I changed codes. I was so pretty-I could not risk the broken noses and bitten ears so beloved of opposing props. These lads looked quite tasty, and visibly being pretty "relaxed", they simply felt that a little live Folk music would aid their drinking session admirably.

      For a while, things  (to me anyway), out there beyond the immediate auditorium, looked and felt a little tense. Especially as I was singing rude things about their home town and county.  However all was resolved and luckily they'd clearly not heard a word. I met the bigger lad outside later. He gave me a bear hug and told me I was "all right." At least I think that's what he said. It could have been "All Shite." He seemed to have a cold.

    

    Enchante followed us, a band we know well and vice-versa. Their whole set was sophisticated, atmospheric stuff, skilfully arranged and superbly played. What they do is a niche product, and it cleverly transports you away from cold November Beduff and into Provence in July.    Time after Time-which comprises Bill Bates and Kelvin Crompton rounded off this particular show. Polished, more than competent and performing a popular selection of tunes which got feet tapping and the audience singing. Bill concentrated on his playing more than his famed comedy antics. Which went well until his footpedal gizmo went awol. Dear old Bill.  I remain unconvinced he had mistaken my Swanee Whistle for an early vibrator. TAT (don't type an extra "W" into their abbreviated stage name), did a brilliant version of Dobie Gray's anthemic "Drift Away."  They also included several tremendous Simon and Garfunkel songs. One of which-"Kathy's Song"-contains my favourite lyric on the soulless joys (or not) of songwriting. 

 

   Afterwards I got so absorbed talking to some visitors from Bilston that I missed three phone calls and two text messages from my taxi driver who was freezing out in the car park with my late night taxi.,bless her. Love you, babe!