AND THE NUTS WERE DULY GATHERED

LAST NIGHT'S BEDWORTH FOLK FESTIVAL FUND RAISER

BEDWORTH R.F.C.

        Over the years, we've tried to mellow, as you can see from a Zama Records Company Promo photo (above). We've tried to introduce more traditional Folk songs and some Blues, into our act. However. There's no getting away from it: some people genuinely seem to like us mucking about a bit  a lot-both lyrically and otherwise. Club organiser Malc Gurnham certainly built up expectations beforehand, with his imaginative titling of this event . So we disciplined ourselves to splitting the evening between us and our good friend Bill Bates. And agreeing to do only erm, (intentionally!) "humourous material."

       I was really psyched-up beforehand. The local paper had billed  the Live Music attractions available that evening as:  Muse, The Specials, Bill Bates and Black Parrot Seaside and The Moscow State Symphony Orchestra. Exalted company eh? Bet Muse don't get that every day! My heart leapt as I arrived. The Rugby Club Car park was totally full. Wow! Had they all read the advertising, and come to see us, because the Ricoh was full? No. They'd come to see the model car racing next door. Oh well.

      We began  a night of three halves with a mix of excellent floor spots. Malc and Gil, Dave Fry and Maria Barham, a debut from the Robinson-Stone Brothers, and a rare outing for Phil Benson. Dave, bless him, had been unprepared for the slightly nutty theme, but to make him feel at home, we laughed at him anyway .Firstly for forgetting that in the first place and secondly when he suddenly realised that he'd been playing with what appeared to be a business card (found in a telephone booth?)  inserted behind the strings on the neck of his Guild. I'd wrongly assumed that this was some new economy capo, intended to dampen the sound.

 

    Maria had arrived clearly (and as always!) ready to enjoy herself. Gil's desperate attempts to get a photo of Maria  windmilling her guitar about were also amusing. Through her second number, Maria created such a downdraught that an entire stack of Chester Folk Festival leaflets tumbled one by one and rather eerily, to the floor. (It was probably a poltergeist, so I'm not going there). The debutantes played three thoughtful and musical numbers including an Eagles cover,using the interesting combination of guitar and electric keyboard. Phil delivered an enormously long anecdotal song about a marathon pub crawl. I'd heard someone do it a few weeks ago somewhere else. The chorus, which grows longer by the verse, remained utterly unfathomable to me.

  The second half began with Bill delivering some of his own songs. I have to say that one or two of them  every one was quite rude. Bill is a fine guitarist, a great raconteur and a writer of songs which just pack in the jokes. (He told me to say that).  He starts quite a few  of them with " I knew a girl called Rita,". Or Cheryl. Or Susan.  Or whatever. He was once in Hi De Hi. Or a Butlin's Redcoat. Or something. I was very disappointed to find that, although he sang his infamous Chocolate Bar Song, there were no free samples available,as previously. Obviously Santander are tightening the screw on him. Thank God he hasn't (yet?) written a song about prophylactics

   A difficult act to follow,then. Arnold had been riding the Duchess of Hamilton earlier that afternoon. Apparently,with a tender behind, and a full head of steam up, she'd got quite hot whilst he was doing so. Possibly why he was certainly looking quite dishevelled when he arrived (late!) from Nuneaton Station. We wobbled (rather than launched) our first set with our first* single- "The Whistler." (*Our only single.) Joe always likes to tell us at this point that he picked the single up for 75p in a Charity shop. I like to reply that I was offered £150 for one by a collector last year. That makes him go quiet. (Though not for very long). I had distributed a bag of whistles, tooters and squeaky dog toys just before commencing, in the hope of recreating the atmosphere on that legendary You Tube clip of " The Whistler,"at a BFC Christmas Party in 2007. Oh you know...the one where Norman Wheatley is wearing a pair of antlers....

   "Cockney Power" then followed,with the audience gamely attempting the convoluted chorus. This was to be one of our three Cosmotheka-inspired numbers, so we felt it apt to follow up with a debut number. Our version of "Houses in Between." Which owed more to Al and Dave Sealey than Gus Elen. However, there were some "technical" problems, and so we scrapped that hurriedly bringing  forward "The Odeon." Another popular chorus song. By this time, Joe, perhaps disturbed by not having a floor spot, became more exciteable than I'd ever seen him. Even at the Boro' Play-Off Final he wasn't this animated. Whatever he's on, I want some of it. We concluded the second half with our homage to all Folk Clubs everywhere-"At The Septic Monkey." That got lots of laughs. Most of which we'd intended to happen.

    Our mock raffle concluding this gentle parody caused some confusion. Especially as the real raffle followed, and at one stage there were two separate sets of tickets flying about. Maria kept  her  " We Love Our Westie " 2012  Annual, but Bill wisely left behind his copy of "Thin Bitch in The Kitchen." Although I try hard to make our raffle prizes so unpleasant they are unkeepable, several happy punters took them home.  Always gratifying, that.  Some kept their  whistles,too. Though Dave Fry kindly returned his squeaky adjustable wrench.

 

     After another break, and a sensible raffle draw, we were tasked with starting the final half of three thirds. Bill would conclude the evening. Malc kindly re-introduced us by recalling a conversation he'd had with local radio's Keith Wedgbury earlier in the day. " Black Parrot  Seaside," Keith had exclaimed," Gosh! They are so slick, aren't they?" Got the biggest laugh of the evening. Thanks for that, Malc! (Or was it "sick"?) Anyway, keep taking the tablets, Keith.

    "The Bold Pirate," went well, with further excellent audience participation.  Must admit, Rugby Club audiences can be lively, but I've rarely seen a Beduff audience quite so animated as this. What a crowd! "Albert Balls" followed, and by now Joe was not alone in looking as if he might not last the evening. (He knows the words better than we do, which is always useful). Arnold got a little carried away with his Duck Walks, Angus Young impressions and exotic guitar licks During this number,he makes The Ramones seem tame when he's in the mood.  The extended re-mix of "On Bedworth Bank," was received well. (Obviously, no-one in from Rugby, Kenilworth, Warwick Stratford, Leamington or Atherstone).

 

    "What a Folking Liberty!" seemed a somehow appropriate way for us to finish our contribution. Soon it was time for a rather more genteel (but still quite rude) Bill Bates to bring back a little decorum. ( He's always had a little decorum, Bill-he told us). Then. as a final, final encore, both of us led The Company in a rousing version of the B-side of our first* single-"I am a Vacuum Cleaner With the Brain of a Bird." Featuring a guitar duel at the end where neither Bill nor Arnold would accept the finishing flourish. Epically sung, with some good gospel work in the Acapella Section. 

 

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nWhx251CSq4    

 

Does this make Bill, as with Dave Parr, Malc Gurnham, Pete Willow, Keith Donnelly,Jon Harrington  et al, an honorary Parrot, now? Sadly, Bill, I think it does.

 

 Were people singing especially enthusiastically? Or just eager for us to let them go home? You see what you miss, folks, when you leave early? Tsk!

 

Join us for "NUTS IN MAY" in Bedworth tomorrow night!

And here's a line-up you won't see every day!

Here we have the CD-Format Black Parrot Seaside, on stage at The Maudslay Hotel in Coventry. Left of Arnold is the great Roddy Felton. Next to Eddie are Brian and Marie Phillips. Behind Geoff you can just make out Norman Wheatley. We were all singing "Go Lassie Go," at the end of a very emotional Fund Raising Concert.

   Tomorrow night, in a night of three halves, ourselves, Bill Bates and loads of floor singers will be concluding the Spring 2013 Festival fundraising season at Bedworth Rugby Club. Admission is free, but jugs will be passed. (Oo-er, Matron!). We have promised to do some of our dafter stuff, including The Whistler, The Bold Pirate, At The Septic Monkey (with raffle), an extended (rude!) version of Bedduff Bank AND a fitting finale with "What a Folking Liberty." Audience participation is essential-and this will not just extend to chorus-singing.

Free gifts of a non-Mars Bar nature will be on offer. Although...you may wish to give some of them back....

The Archive Parrot Photo of All time!

Wow! Here's THE Orginal, and first ever Black Parrot Seaside  line-up,taken from our first EVER rehearsal early 1975. Just look at all that hair! Left to Right, Arnold Chave, (guitar and vocals), Geoff Veasey (vocals), Tez Tehergee (guitar) Dave Blundy (guitar). All ex-Caludon Castle lads.  At least three more ex-Caludon Old Boys would later join us: John Walker, Mick Harris and Graham Caldicot. 

     Dave Blundy rehearsed with us, and helped us out a lot with our sound in the Electric days.He was actually working a lot with Davey and The Starliners at the time. He did guest occasionally however, notably at the notorious  Smithfield Hotel (Coventry) gig . Later, after the various rock formats and the first Folk format had split up, we still often rehearsed or jammed  in Dave's flat in Coventry. John Walker would join in,and one of our ex-bassists, Martin Smalldon, would bring along a double base.

Rob Lockington joined us soon after, as our first drummer. Mick Harris came in on keyboards. and has been with us on and off ever since. Graham Caldicot became a second vocalist. Barry Ousby became our first bassist. The debut B.P.S. gig was in 1975/6 at Wolvey Village Hall. Geoff missed it, as he had Mumps!

A Dog Called Rover

     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.

Caught In The Act

        How refreshing (and unusual nowadays) to go to a new music venue and come away laden only with positives! And as a performer, not to be canonised, but just made welcome,and treated with equal  respect, regardless of any perceived "status."

          This club is probably my nearest,and yet for various reasons,it is one we've often intended to visit but never got round to it. One reason probably is guilt. The club base is just a  few doors up from what used to be the finest Transport Books emporium in the country. When it closed it  held a clearance sale, Arnold and I filled our cars up with stuff. I even went back again for a second load.  My shelves are groaning with cut-price bargains from Watling Drive!

       Certainly one of the more interesting venues from the outside. Inside,very professionally run. A well-heated building with a big concert room upstairs. With  nice seating and conveniently sited drinks tables,a good, well-lit stage, and a super P.A. system, lovingly and effectively monitored by a sound engineer who knows exactly what they are doing. A separate tuning-up room,and a separate room serving refreshments,and a "merchandising table."  Brilliant. No Septic Monkey here!

        It helped of course, to find our old partner in Parrothood, Bill Bates in charge of proceedings. Probably the first time in ages I've seen Bill without his trademark trail of chocolate bars- which he sometimes uses to woo an audience. No cliques or cronyism with Bill compering and everyone gets a fair crack of the whip. A further bonus-two old BPS friends from the past are also appearing-Steve Adams and Rob Armstrong.

   Steve is one of those hallowed individuals-someone who once recorded the Parrot. An exclusive brethren including both Zama and Spindrift Records, Chris King, Pathway Studios,(London), Monty Bird Studios (Warwick), Dave Blundy's Legendary "Woodlands Tapes"  and a studio session somewhere off the Ring Road in Coventry.  Which was interrupted by an odd phone call from someone saying a flying saucer was landing in their back garden. I kid you not. The majority of these archives have been wiped, erased or made into flowerpots. Our efforts long ago in Steve's delightful canalside cottage all these years ago seem also to have suffered that fate. Judging by his sheepish grin when I reminded him of them! 

   Floor sets booked in advance, options given on whereabouts one would like to appear on the bill, attentive adjustments to mikes and pick-ups for each individual performer-these are all  touches that make an artiste feel welcome. I also strongly believe that such attention ensures a better performance, reduces nerves and enhances confidence.  So everyone attending is immediately a winner.

     Bill performed several familiar songs, one of which has become a bit of an earworm for me, due to its percussive guitar backing and repetitive, plaintive chorus.  In which a very reluctant miner  pleads with his father, begging not to be sent back down the Pit again. Bill is a deceptive performer. He projects an image of affable absent-mindedness, but beneath that lurks a fine guitarist, an excellent songwriter and an all round good egg. His comedy is excellent, but like us, he throws in the occasional serious song, just for balance, and to show that life is not always a mere bundle of laughs.

     Though I've been corresponding with Steve through social networks recently, I'd not seen him perform " live " since he used to do spots for us at the Folk Club we ran  in Brinklow. It was reassuring  to see and hear that though we've both changed physically (!!), he's lost none of that edge which he always possessed. A talented musician, and a rasping, barbed vocal delivery which only serves to accentuate an almost Lehrer-like humour. New songs or old-all delivered with that  waspish wit. Excellent.

      Rob Armstrong and his legendary guitars we've all admired for years. Partnering Roddy in the Grunt Band, he first inspired us to develop a comedic side. He was on great form last night,pounding out solid tunes and good songs effortlessly on one of his own machines. Dennis added a differnt angle, with a collection of his and others songs. I'd not seen him before. I enjoyed his rendition of a Dylan cover, and his complex guitar picking.   

    We performed "Over The Hills"-I checked first-no-one else was doing it-(!!!) The Odeon,Courting is a Pleasure, and What a Folking Liberty. We finished with a rousing version of Albert Balls. The audience totally got all the humour, and listened politely to the serious stuff. What more can one ask for?

Folk Club Etiquette

Cliques. The   bane of localised Folk Music. Ultimately they will be the death knell of it. Unless Organisers, Comperes and Hosts show a lot more integrity, and a lot more balls in arranging their running orders. 

  We ourselves have had past experience of running Folk Clubs. It's not easy, but generally, we did our very best to run them democratically,regardless of our opinions of material or performance. As we saw it, our club was a shop window: a vehicle. Not a personal medium for expanding our own egos and massaging those of a few others who frankly, did not need the kudos.   I think our attendance figures reflected that. We gave stage space to ALL those who turned up on time (or pre-booked) or who asked in advance for a spot to play. We had no time at all for those self-styled Prima Donnas who turned up late, unnannounced, and then swagggered in expecting to be feted and fawned over. We did not give them a  priority spot at short notice and at the expense of other good, solid, regular Club  performers. We felt that if we did  do this, we risked strangling the very source of organic,acoustic music.

  In some circles, this stupid and prehistoric  attitude still persists. If these same self-styled "Stars"  were actually any good-wouldn't they be living in Laurel Canyon by now?  Or re-issuing their back catalogue? Or recording their latest televised concert? Rather than just  grubbing around in rustic backwoods  venues late at night  like the rest of us?  Yeah, I think so.

         It wont be the stylised, ironically Pork Pie-wearing Mid Atlantic groups of Kiddie Folkers who finally kill off the genre forever. With their cynical and  nasally american interpretations of cynically-packaged machine-assembled PopFolk. Nor the gigantic manufactured ensembles of a dozen or so jobbing musicians  grinding out abominations of traditional tunes for Radio 1 and 2 consumption. No. It wil be the few M.C's who, with their prejudices and favouritism finally spell out the end. There's only about a million times of mumbling  the same tired old traditional dirge into oblivion,  before the lights come up one last time and the doors close forever.

The Tides of March

Apologies to (both) our readers for a bit of a BPS vacuum (cleaner)  recently, during the first part of March.  This has been due to ill health/other commitments//Nuneaton Borough's relegation battles/domestic priorities/bad weather etc.

But have we been totally idle? Well, no. Since the last Blog entry we've rehearsed a couple of times. We've had a few tickles also from various Club promoters about potential gigs, which we have yet to firm up. Hopefully more opportunities to impose our whacky zany brand of Folk on more audiences?

    Fans who enjoy our visual comedy material will be pleased to hear that we've had to take the protective dust sheeting off a few older numbers just to live up to Malc Gurnham's promotion of our head to head with Bill Bates at Bedduff Folk Club's Fund Raiser which is coming soon. " A night of Comedy mayhem?" says young Malc. We shall see! We ran  through our own  " Cockney Power," " Septic Monkey" and "Wag of Shop 14 " earlier in March, and then yesterday we continued to tidy up Gus Elen's "Houses in Between." 

Now, we make no secret of our admiration for Cosmotheka, and we were privileged to play on the same bill as them a few times. I love all Al and Dave's material, indeed our own song "The Odeon" is an homage to their style. "Houses" was only one of dozens of super renditions they did representing this genre. But it's one we also feel our own vocal style suits rather well. Look out for its BPS debut soon.

We also wish to continue to develop the softer, fluffier Parrot side. We now have "Lakes of Ponchartrain " close to performance standard. "Peggy Gordon " is getting there, and along with "Courting is a Pleasure " and " Over The Hillls and Far Away," they will  all feature in future setlists and serve to break up the endless rib-aching waves of laughter. Of course, if we do them wrong-the waves of laughter may well continue.

Work on revising and relaunching a BPS website is ongoing. Hopefully up and running soon. Meanwhile, don't be a stranger. If you want us at your venue-you only have to ask.