Three Gig week.

     Three appearances this week, and hoping to make Sly Old Dogs this Sunday. Without rehearsals or band bookings, it's essential for me to keep the old pipes and tubes operational. "Use it or Lose It," as they say. I've sung eleven songs, and only one was a Black Parrot Seaside one. And even that wasn't one I wrote. That's definitely some kind of personal first.

     On Monday I sampled Acoustic Night at The Fox in Attleborough, Nuneaton, for the first time. It is a pub I know well, but not one I've sung in before. An informal set up, with musicians sitting in a (kind of ) circle, up one end of a huge lounge, and taking it in turns to perform.  I already knew John Neal, and my distant Cousins Tom and Simon Veasey. But as the others there did not all introduce themselves,  I cannot give them all a name check.  Which is a pity, as some of them were really good musicians!

    Although the only unaccompanied musician there, I was invited to do four songs.  I had NO  problems whatsoever with complying!   I did "All Over Now, " "If I had Possession," "Jesus On The Mainline, " and "Need Your Love So Bad."  The assembled company gave me some spirited accompaniment, with steel guitar, 12 and six string guitars, banjo, mandolin, acoustic bass and various blues harps, it sounded pretty good.

     On Wednesday, fellow Parrot Arnie joined me for a floor spot at a Bedworth Folk Club Fund-raiser in the Rugby Clubhouse. Gren Morris and Sam Stephens were the main act there. I enjoyed them. They were very different.

    Arnie and I opened with " If I had Possession," as we both really enjoying belting this Robert Johnson song out. Semi-Parrot Malc Gurnham joined us, and it went along with some welly. We followed with "Peggy Gordon" -our own arrangement, which nearly always catches out audiences who want to sing the original version. We finished with "Albert Balls," dedicating it to Tracy Emin and that lovely bed piece she's selling for God knows how many millions. I'm afraid...I'm not going to bid. Even if it starts at 10p.Phil Benson sneaked a cndid snap. 

I'm not losing my patience with Arnie. I'm helping the audience with the Chorus to "Albert Balls."

    Malc and Gil hosted and sang several songs in each half. "Blackleg Miner". and "Over the Lancashire Plain,"  for example. Other artistes on included John Kearney, Dave Webb and that oldest swinger, Joe Roberts. And I won yet more deodorant in the raffle. Good job I like Lynx. 

     Last night I made a late decision to go to a Singaround at Coventry's Tump Folk Club. I was just psyching myself up for another bash at the lovely Rod Felton song "Curly" when in walked Rob  Armstrong, Roddie's erstwhile partner in The New Modern Idiot Grunt Band. No pressure there then!  I still went for it, but got my verses mixed up a little. It is such a beautiful song, but it's bloody hard to sing, and I'm damn sure it's even more difficult to play along to/with. Rob gave me a (literal) pat on the back afterwards and added "Well done mate." That meant an awful lot to me, as I persevere with this very personal challenge.

    As The Bold Parrot Blog readers will know, besides losing Roddie, we've also recently lost a Founder Parrot, Graham Caldicott. So I next sang his excellent song about Night Ladies in Coventry "Dirty Gertie. ". It's one we've done  as  a band all over the Midlands, along with his other songs, "Vacuum Cleaner " and "The Blueland Boy."  Emotional for a few of us, as there were people there who once knew Garsi as he liked to be called sometimes. Or who had seen him performing with us.

   Later in the second half,  "Hairy Folker," Nigel Ward, who was sitting next to me, set me up a treat with the perfect link. He played a couple of tunes about Hares. It would have been churlish then, not to have revived an old BPS stalwart "The Bonny Black Hare." So I did. As I'm fond of the loppy- eared chaps. 

Amos, Amon and a snap of their hero.

     My final song was "On Raglan Road." Things were getting very wistful,and it seemed to suit the mood.

    Nigel and Rob did a foot-tapping duet before Nigel added some more jigs reels and tunes including his own," Jabet's Ash."   Rob was on tip-top form:both his singing and playing were as good as ever. I especially liked his version of " San Francisco Bay," and the Springfield's "Island of Dreams,"  moodily growled out. Colin Squire was in a mellow mood, too. He seemed in a fairly nautical vein but also gave us a spirited version of "Nancy Whisky." (See what I did there?)  Sheila Rigg sang a couple of lovely songs-"Let No Man Steal Your Time " was my favourite.        

     Elsewhere, it was mostly first names only. Another Colin took us (as he often does) through a variety of Irish/Scottish tunes-but he also gave us a new slant on "Casey Jones," Still about the doomed engine driver, but not the famous song-a different one. Cheryl  never shies away from a challenge, and she included " Need Your Love So Bad," (a really different interpretation to ours,  and that lovely piece "Ashokan Farewell" in her contribution. that's a tune  which I rarely hear played on a guitar. Christine gave us tuneful performances of "Scarborough Fair,"  and "Last Thing On My Mind."  John The Growler warbled a few atmospheric pieces including "Strange Fruit" and "It Ain't Necessarily So".  I won the raffle again-a bottle of red wine which will go well with tomorrow's home-made Spaghetti. Bolognaise. So we'll draw a veil over the couple who strayed in, and then made a none too unobtrusive departure glaringly obvious, as they decided this fine, eclectic diversity of music was not for them. Philistines.  

Graham Caldicott R.I.P.

     Graham Caldicott  was a larger than life figure with a unique, gothic imagination and a personality that easily won (and lost!) him many friends. I first met him at Caludon Castle Comprehensive School in Coventry. We were twelve. He lived round the corner to me and for many years we walked to and from school together. Later we cycled there together. Initially it was a love of bikes, cars, football, rock music poetry and the Arts that bound us together. We rapidly found we had many many more common tastes than that, and a shared oddball sense of humour. We became best friends. Not inseparable-but very close. 

We played in the same football team, the same Subbuteo League and acted in the same Theatre productions. Each year he and I fought it out for whom came top in English. If we hadn't been two giggly, disruptive, noisy, long-haired reprobates sitting together we would definitely have monopolised the School Prizes for English. But many of the teachers either disliked us or misunderstood us, so neither of us ever won anything.

Whilst at school we formed our own language, and the separate alter egos of Pletlogarsi and Lappinook. We invented our own mythical world of Galunia together, and along with another Graham, Graham Manley, we became “The Timewashed Mind “- a poetry performance trio. We traded records, clothes, subbuteo players, Scalextric cars and model railways engines. We started writing collaboratively, and recorded some of the hysterically funny results on reel-to-reel machines. He wrote some of the best poetry and creative writing I had ever seen, and was also a truly gifted mimic and actor. He began a diary-”The Memoirs-” and I copied him. I write my own version, still. It will be a sad entry today.

Graham left school after “O” levels, and began a trial work period at Rootes where his Grandad was an influential manager. But things didn't work out and he was allowed back into Caludon's Sixth Form to study for A Levels. Where he did Art and English. Neither of us were allowed to do a third A level because we had mucked about so much during Vth Form. Instead we were forced to write a thesis. Graham's was his first work of creative genius. It was about the historic Car Marques of Coventry. He started researching it very conscientiously, but eventually got bored, and made up biographies of mythical firms. At least 50% of what he finally submitted was Fiction. Nobody ever questioned it, so well was it written.To earn a bit of spare cash we ran a car-washing business together. Hilarious and quite lucrative. We also sold Golden Goal tickets together at Highfield Road.

Unfortunately, just as he was accepted into the Sixth Form at Caludon Castle, his parents relocated to Gillingham. However I persuaded my mum and dad to take him in,as a lodger and for a madcap year or so he lived with us at Morris Avenue. It was crazy. We shared a bedroom, which was a great preparation for student living a year later. The actor Ron Cook was part of our close circle of friends, and along with several other gifted people we took a strong interest in Literature and theatre. Ron delights in reminding me that that particular Sixth Form, with all its actors, poets, writers and painters, was considered by the teachers to be of the finest ever cohorts the school had produced.

During this time most people got to know Graham as “'Garsi,” his chosen nickname. When we left school, though most of us ended up studying in London, we lost contact a little. I still saw him occasionally-he was at The Drama Centre in Chalk Farm-and he came over to our South London College occasionally to see bands there. When I got married, and moved back from Coventry to London, I found he had done the same. We eventually hooked back up together.

We both continued to meet socially and to go to football matches together. Eventually he became a founder member of Black Parrot Seaside, when it was in its pomp as a Rock Band. He was there at the band's first ever gig and shared many triumphs with us. We shared vocals-either in choruses, or in taking alternate verses as in “Sleep Town.” We co-wrote many songs together. He's second from the left in this picture.

    When he wasn't rehearsing with us he was beginning to be drawn into a crowd which weren't entirely good for him. Probably best to draw a veil over that particular time. He had picked up some bad habits and some addictions. This meant that at times he was charming, funny, generous and charismatic. But at others he could be unreliable, rude, erratic, and infuriating. (Later I realised he was seriously ill). About 1978 the Rock Band split up, and drifted into Folk, which was never truly his thing. We continued rehearsing and performing, and still included some of his songs in our set-but he never returned.

    Our working environments, lifestyles and work hours had become very different. Gradually we drifted apart again. I moved away from Coventry in 1987 and never saw or heard from him again. So I was delighted to hear from a third party much later, that he had finally got to grips with some of his problems. Because if he hadn't, it was evident to me, and to most who knew him, that if he didn't, he would have died very young. He evidently got himself together, found religion, and got a work ethic sorted out at last. Last I'd heard he was settled and making a real effort to make things right with his family.

     His contribution to Black Parrot Seaside was massive. He wrote most of “I am a Vacuum Cleaner,” which got us airplay on Radio One! Though not performing at all by that time, he was credited on the 1978 vinyl album featuring it. When we released a CD in 2008 ,”Vacuum Cleaner” was still featured in our set, and so again-he got a credit. We still occasionally do “Dirty Gertie” and “The Blueland Boy,” wonderful songs which were Garsi's only attempts at writing to a folk genre. He and I co-wrote “Ordinary” which featured in the Rock set list. He took lead vocals on “Nails” and “Mr Unusual,” both of which he wrote. He joined me on vocals in “Brutus,” “Small, Maladjusted and Mean,” and “Failure.” Recordings of all these songs still exist, but they are scratchy, mono, versions of what in all modesty were good tunes. Personally, I'd like to resurrect a few of them-but we shall see. For now, Graham Stuart Caldicott, a.k.a. Garsi, Pletlogarsi, White Prince Roosy, Fylo Paloon, rest and sleep easy, my brother.

Graham's on the far right in this promotional shot taken at Hawkesbury.

"Atherstone once known for hats"

Setting the record straight.  For Steve Beeson

 

     We are one of only a few to have written a song about Bedworth. Actually, the song is about Towns in Warwickshire, generally. Bedworth is just the one featured in the title and the chorus:

 

On Bed'uth Bank the grass is black: 

 a grand view of the Sunbrite Slack

If tha' stands on top and tha' walks around,

 tha' feet'll sink into the ground

   The words are our own, and the tune we employ is an adaptation of "Owdham Edge," by the Owdham Tinkers. The original song celebrates the beauty and fresh air of a spot in Lancashire. Our version does the same with Warwickshire. But takes a slightly different approach.

 

      My dad lived in Bedworth for a while. My daughter still does. The air has not always been fresh there. It had several collieries. When I was a kid the slag heaps, winding gear and railway yards of several pits were still visible.

    The last colliery to go was Keresley-later called Coventry Colliery. Not really in Bedworth, but it had a massive coke and anthracite producing plant run by Sunbrite. You could see the Sunbrite spoil tip and Gas plant from miles away. The Bank itself is “The Black Bank” in Bedduth. .Bedworth Folk Club runs one of its folk evenings at The Old Black Bank Public house. The grass is no longer black. But if you dug down, after a little while, you'd probably find the soil was! 

     The CD version is relatively benign. So much so that local radio have played it several times. The “live” version is racier, and in the BPS comedy tradition, we lead our audience through many verses. Using wordplay we let them form their own line endings and images. Here's a few examples from the relatively clean and healthy section.

Foundry chimneys near and far,

where the  Leyland workers parked their cars

worked all day for me and you, then drove home in their N.S.U.
Straight up front there's Wyken Slough, M6 packed wi' tons of stuff
If tha' stands on highest van, tha' can see the smog of Birmingham
O'er to North Nuneaton Town- once lived a comedian of renown
Everard was his best friend's name,campanology was his game

     Then we travel further afield. To Atherstone, for starters. .

Atherstone, has pubs and inns, 

 parking Signs and Wheelie Bins

This fine old town once known for hats
now seems full of three-toed ….....

    Could the missing word be "cats" in this instance? Or "bats"? Depends how often you've visited Atherstone. Things do annually go a bit strange there during the Annual Ball Game, when all the shop windows have to be boarded up. "Adderscum" , as some unkind Nuneatonians call it, is a border town, with Roman roots. It is on the A5, heading out towards the Bandit Country of Staffordshire. Near neighbours North are Tamworth, and east, Nuneaton. There is, to put it mildly, a bit of a love-hate thing going on between the three towns. I've been on the receiving end of some of it, attending football matches. In fact, the first non-League football game I ever saw was at Atherstone Town's Sheepy Road ground in about 1964. I had a friend called John Hicks, who played for "The Adders" then. It was a very new experience for me by comparison with Football League matches I'd been to.

    I've been back to Atherstone  loads of times since. I'm a keen gardener and it has a Dobbies Garden centre nearby. It's the nearest town to the wonderful Church End Brewery up in the Warwickshire Alps, behind the town. My daughter in law works there, my sister lectures in Creative Writing there and my good friend Phil Benson lives close to the town in an idyllic spot. I've sung many times in The Larder Cafe in Atherstone High Street. Delicious food and a great military themed eatery. I've been to Toy and Train fairs there, and in our conservatory is a lovely old pine armchair we recently bought from an antique shop opposite the library. Like most towns, it has some scenic places. And some not so scenic places. Some good pubs..and some dodgy ones. Like most towns it has some friendly people, and some right nutters.

As the song progresses, no-one is spared from the sword:

Warwick is our County seat where Councillors and bigwigs meet

The Castle is a wondrous sight, although the moat is full of *****
Rugby Folk have lots of balls, oval ones as I recalls
Birthplace too, of Rupert Brooke,
and Chavs who think they're hard as********
At Stratford in The Olden Days,
Billy Shakespeare wrote some plays
Along the Avon pole the punts, full of tourists, silly *********

Get the idea? Some line endings are missing. If that's the case then one simply substitutes the most appropriate alternative of one's choice.

Leamington, once known for Spas Now is full of tapas Bars
In Jephson Gardens steal a kiss bedind the bogs that smell of *****
“AL-CEST-ER “ you must not say- it is pronounced a different way
“Ulster “ is the proper job, If you are a pretentious  **************

Meriden is fairly dull, a rat run through to Solihull
I was born there- what a curse-the centre of the universe?
At Coleshill , stacked containers rise, 4 by 4 up to the skies
The Rivers Cole and Blythe converge-handy if you get the urge
“Kenilworth “ by Randolph Scott- (Perhaps Sir Walter?--I forgot)
Castle, Theatre, Water tower-see it all in half an hour

And then finally,after our little Warwickshire tour....back to Beduff. For the concluding verse- a return to the fact that the industrialised 'Beduff once had pits, mills and factories all of them belching out smoke and pollution:

They should come up here from Switzerland

and have a gas mask in their hand

For Bed'uth air let me tell thee, beats alcohol and LSD.

     The only complaints we receive are about omissions. The Coleshill and Leamington verses for example, were later additions, requested by audience members. Folkies from Barwell, Hinckley and Earl Shilton have also asked for the inclusion of their towns, but of course they are not in Warwickshire.  Tamworth actually was long ago, and look out Shipston, Knowle, Balsall Common  and Southam. You just never know...

Milking The Goat

       An interesting evening last night out at Ridge Lane, where a myriad of performers almost outnumbered the guests for a while at The May session of Atherstone Folk Club. .Norman Wheatley headlined and he did two entertaining sets comprising the usual mix of repartee, wordplay, clever one-liners, comedy songs and  classics. This included the erudite "Gruntled" the Tom Lehrer charmer about Poisoning Pigeons and an imaginative rearrangement of "She Loves You." I have struggled with that Beatles song ever since having heard the Peter Sellers version, which is truly disturbing. He also did a quirky cover of an Incredible String Band number about Hedgehogs. Tragically, Steve Beeson (who told me once he loves the ISM)  actually missed this one. Norman had his backing band Dave Fry with him, making some of the chorus singing truly memorable. Deafening, even.

    Guitarist Steve Beeson also comperes AFC, and he was, well, just wickedly naughty last night. Deliberately mispronouncing our name as often as time permitted. What a cheeky boy he is! This running gag was because, (famously), Steve struggled with announcing us  at Atherstone's opening night-and we've never let him live it down since. Indeed, it's all on a recording which I could be persuaded to put on YouTube unless he sends me a substantial postal order. I don't see what the problem is. Steve himself  is a member of er..The Jar of Fingers..um...no I'm sorry, I meant Finger Up The Ear..or is it it Fingers of The Jar? Anyway,  Ginger in The Jar (I think) opened both halves. They've obviously been rehearsing, as they sounded quite good last night and Phil kept his eyes closed throughout.   Judging by comments Steve made last night  he obviously thinks I have a down on Atherstone, just because that lovely, friendly  old town features (not too benignly) in a song we do. (I'll be setting the record straight on that in a later Blog Steve. Just for you).

   Dave Fry then stepped up to the mike. He gave us the City of New Orleans on his doughty 12 string and finished with my favourite Jon Harvison song.  Half a World away. Yup. That's  where we felt we needed to be whilst Dave was singing.

 Elaine and John Meechan did a versatile spot featuring concertina guitar and accordion-though not always necessarily at the same time. With an election tomorrow John was obviously in a fighting mood. They did a couple of social comment songs. I liked the John Tams inspired one from War Horse. And the Yorkshire one. Perhaps they were the same song? John warbled gamely about pensioners' rights in Skipton. That's where my Grandad (and great Grandad) Oldfield were born. Slightly unintelligible lyrics for anyone South of Silsden, or if tha didn't kna' t' Skipton area laike, but a' thowt it wa' reet gradely.

  It was good to see Brian and Marie Phillips out and about locally again. Obviously the Cornish Visa issues had been eventually settled and they had finally managed to get through customs and away back north. from Kernow. I'd heard an ugly  rumour that Brian had been detained and strip-searched near Torpoint. Just because he'd been smuggling out Pasties in a body belt. But apparently he was merely a little too keen to re-enact a Dixie Chicks song, and the cctv (Cornish circuit television) had picked him up mooning at a Pisky. . They were in fine voice, and played some melodious, thoughtful stuff.

 

    And then there was us. Warming up "the crowd" for Norman's second set. We started with our new song " Down Our Street," and it very soon got away from us. I'd convinced myself that I'd learned all the lyrics by now, so for the first time didn't bring any along. I practised it by singing it aloud all the way there. This  was not fully appreciated by the good people of Stockingford, who looked a little frightened. I didn't sing a correct version between Whitestone and Ansley Common. This worried me somewhat. As I began to sing I realised that The sound balance didn't seem quite right. Mick's Mandolin boomed out of the speakers next to him. This threw him-and us, so the start was anything but even.

 

    We followed that with the Nic Jones favourite "Courting is a Pleasure," and that was more steadily paced. It is a  song both sad and angry,which is quite apt for a Folk Club, really. We hadn't thought this out at all, because as all three of us were quaffing Church End's delightful "Goat's Milk" bitter we really should have paid homage with our Beyoncé cover about the awfulness of being a goat. But instead we finished with "Albert Balls." The chorus singing was delightful quite honestly. (Well done to you all).

 

   We got another festival gig out of last night, so all in all, a profitable evening.

 

  

At LAST I get to play in a Boro' shirt, on the Boro' ground!!.

    Last week ended with  a four piece Parrot  taking the stage at Nuneaton Borough F.C.'s "Player of The Year " Awards at The Sperrin Brewery Stadium, Liberty Way.  Myself, Arnie, Dave Parr and Malc Gurnham did the honours. The Programme of events and presentations dwelt much on the club's recent re-naming-"Town"-but I still prefer to use the name most Nuneaton fans are familiar with-they'll always be "The  Boro " to me.

       At Saturday's "do" we shared the entertainment duties with our old friends "Off The Cuff," who opened the live music proceedings around 8pm. We'd last shared a stage (or rather a marquee ) with them a couple of years ago, at an open air concert to commemorate the Queen's Diamond Jubilee. Events were running an hour late by the time we were called up on stage, but we managed to give a 200+ (all-ticket!) audience " All Over Now," "The Odeon,", "If I had Possession," "Down Our Street " and " Over the Hills and far Away,"  before the set was truncated. It was nice to see some of the tables singing along with the local songs, but sensible to halt early or we'd all still be there Sunday morning. By the looks of 1987 Cup Final hero Dave Bennett..he probably was! 

      Later, following the First Team presentations, we kicked off the third session by performing "Need Your Love So Bad and " Bring it On Home," with a sort of Off The Parrot Ensemble. These two songs also featured Derek Warren on drums, Jon Murdock on keyboards  and Greg Daffern on guitar.  Off The Cuff then finished off the evening with a typically accomplished set. All the night's proceeds went towards the Mary Anne Evans Hospice. Along with the shirt auction, I reckon they must have made four figures.

      This is me and my mate Giorgio in Malia last year. I'm wearing a Boro Away shirt and he's in his Flamenco (Brazil) shirt. You'll have to click on it to see Giorgio, due to me being a little stockier than he is. Clearly, as a "Boro'" Season Ticket holder I'm biased, but  I felt the strong emphasis on youth and community work on Saturday did the organisers great credit.Expertly compered by BBC's Dave Sharpe, the evening demonstrated the evident grass roots rapport between players, fans and the club officials. It  is a model many bigger clubs could learn from. And the fact that the very likeable, and very grounded Theo Streete, carried off all the Player awards, was heartening. Well deserved.
 

            Earlier in the week  we'd had a rehearsal on Tuesday and I'd done a solo spot at The Larder, a café  in Atherstone on Wednesday. All were in good voice in this military-themed eatery, with Phil Benson, Malc Gurnham, The Beesons, Cyder Annie, John and Elaine Meechan and Catherine Cope all joining in with  vocals and instrumentation to entertain diners. We had a mix of traditional and contemporary songs. I sang the late Rod Felton's lovely song  "Curly" and "Over The Hills."