Any
personal enjoyment of last night's Sly Old Dogs and Friends session
at The Bell in Monks Kirby was tempered when I got home by hearing
some very sad news. I learned that whilst I had been out, a family
friend and ex-colleague had finally passed away, peacefully. Sue
Horne had been ill for a long time, and was fully aware that her
illness was terminal. She was a true Black Parrot Seaside fan-she had
enjoyed our gigs way back in the Rock era, and had also seen us in
our latest guise at The Sty Folk Club Coventry, not so long ago. She
always got every one of our jokes, understood every nuance, each
naughty innuendo and all the barbed satire. A true Parroteer who
will be sadly missed.
But
Sue would definitely have wanted the fun and the enjoyment of good
local music to go ahead last night, and she would certainly have
shaken her head and snorted at my outrageous rendition of “If I
Were a Goat.” A lady at a previous session had heard me
mention that as well as covering Bryan and Michael and St Winifred's
Choir “hits”, we also did a Beyonce song. “ I'd like to hear
that!” this lady had imprudent commented. I don't need a second
chance. Requests for me, (other than “Go Home” or “
Sit Down!”) are so rare-how could I not comply? Goat
has a nice easy chorus-The Audience only has to bleat along with
me. Which they did. Fair play to them.
As
it happened, I had started with a sad song- “On Raglan
Road”-thereby depriving another performer apparently who had
come along intending to air it. I felt a bit guilty about that, as
she set me up royally, with a lovely link by singing a song about
Dublin City. But it was that sort of night. Richard Ryder did one of
my regular numbers- “Peggy Gordon” and Bob Brooker also
chose to do “Black Velvet Band,” which is on our 2008 CD
“Aint It Grand.” It only needed “The Old Triangle,”
and my Dubliners back catalogue would have been exhausted. However I
had prepared for such a probability, and I later gave them “Chicken
On A Raft” a venerable Cyril Tawney Song which makes an
audience work very hard.
The
Dogs were a little depleted. Paul Kelly had apparently done himself
some damage with a bookcase. It was Burns Night the night before. He
should definitely stop climbing onto them. Nigel Ward was missing,
but there was no fiddle shortage as Sue Sanders and Martyn Bushnell
both provided excellent string accompaniment and a few solo numbers.
One of Sue's instrumentals was “The Morpeth Rant ”which
I'd always assumed was someone raving about having missed the last
train to Blyth. And it was good to see Old Sneak Ted McIntosh plucking a rather more
sexy looking bass than I'd last seen him playing. He pumped out
a good sound through a small amp too. One which could be literally
felt resounding through the flagstones in other rooms beyond. John's always been able to pump out a great sound.
The
Guvn'or of The Bell, Paco, was especially keen to air his dexterity
on the Spoons during “Gypsy Laddie-O”. This was because he
had his brother “live” far away on Mainland Europe. The whole
song was filmed and relayed direct to him. We waved and shouted
“Hola!” to him. Eurovision Song Contest for The SODs? They would
probably get more points than Engelbert.
Amongst the “And Friends” present
was Phil Benson, but as he was doing a fair impression of a Crimean
Consumptives Ward, crouping away alongside me, he wisely chose not to
punish the tonsils. The Benson Notepad stayed shut, except when he
was taking pictures. So there was no insight on The Undeserving Poor
from Phil. It was the first time I'd sung in public since Hinckley
Act and at Atherstones Larder Cafe early in January. I'd had a sore
throat too, ever since, and wasn't sure how well the pipes would stand up
to a bit of a thrashing. However, although I was speaking in a lower
octave than usual, I got through all three songs without too much
discomfort. Hopefully the larynx is on the mend.
Bob
mentioned his CD's for sale a few times and threw his plectrum on the
floor. He gave us a song about Grimsby Town, which was about Fishing
Boats rather than The Mariners languishing in Non League Football.
With The Burns thing still current, we had “Lizzie Lindsay”
from Richard, “Come By The Hills” from Colin Squire and
“Marie's Wedding” from Sue. We finished with “Go
Lassie Go,” with the whole Company singing magnificently.
I
got talking afterwards to a family from Whitestone. Like me
they'd travelled to MK over the Warwickshire Alps, and they began
reminiscing about Bedworth Folk Club. This was pre-Malc Gurnham, and
pre-Corner House. Max Wright was a musician himself, and had played there.
He also recalled The City Arms-which was where I first saw Rod
Felton. Small
world, eh?
