Bedworth Folk Festival 2014

No, you read the title above correctly. Tomorrow sees the 2013 Festival kick off, all right:  three days of Love, Peace and Good Vibes, man. (And woman) (And Ferret).  But last night saw 13 different acts raising the first funds towards next year's 2014 Festival.  (It helps to be prepared).

      Bedworth Folk Festival is unique in several ways. It is probably the U.K.'s  biggest Winter Festival. It is certainly a rarity, in being entirely Indoors. (No wellies are required except to access the Car Parks at a few of the venues beyond The Civic Hall. It includes Nationally known and loved and local acts. Without fear, favour or discrimination. That is, unlike some regional Folk Festivals, Bedworth  does not operate an unwritten Folk Apartheid Policy excluding anyone who is not part of some cosy Inner selection Cabal. And it sees "Warwickshire" as just that-not one small South-Eastern corner of the heavenly County.  Thus,  besides the visitors from afar you  can get to see an immense diversity of eclectic material at "Bedduff" and that is why performers and festival-goers embrace it each year so warmly.

      Last night saw Justin Archer, Joe Roberts, Dave Parr, Black Parrot Seaside, Maria Barham, Thru'ppnny Bits, John Kearney, Claire Latham, Terry Wisdom, Dave Fry , Phil Benson,  Malc and Gill and Brian and Marie Phillips crack on from 8.30 until late. Quite breathlessly at times. Both Justin and Claire I believe were that rare item "a Bedworth Virgin"-i.e. they appearing at a BFC venue for the first time. Justin sang one of my personal favourites from The Boss-"I'm On Fire"-and also gave us an interesting adaptation of an early Crystal's hit. Which most of us were old enough to be able to sing along with.   Joe sang  "Wabash Cannonball"  and I'm not quite sure what the other song was.

    That modest icon Terry Wisdom noodled quietly away in that inimitable, self-effacing way he has, singing "Ain't Misbehavin" and other nostalgic  classics with panache, elan and style. He and Jan are going to be doing a Black Bank Session in 2014. One not to miss. 

 

      Dave Fry had the audience rocking the walls and ceiling with a thunderous chorus of "Sweet Rose of Allandale."  Dave Parr performed solo and also later performed with two other acts. He did two slightly naughty songs solo- one of which was in every way Camp. Someone told me it was by Paddy Roberts-but I've not tracked it down yet.  I didn't have my pencil with me so I missed writing down all the other songs by other performers.But the mix was just stunning.

 

    The Black Parrot Seaside Bigger Band (us three,  supplemented by Dave Parr and Malc Gurnham)  knocked out ribald versions of "The Odeon" "Albert Balls" and "What a Folking Liberty" . It really did get rather noisy, with the chorus singing probably audible in Exhall.  However our rehearsals together have paid off- and the audience were able to laugh as much at the lyrics as at the missed chords.  I didn't miss a single cue this time, and we spent a lot of time in the right key(s).

 

   On then to the 2013 Festival, of which more later, and a busy 7 days for the various Parrot line-ups.  Do look us up if you're out and about.  And "Thrrrpppp!" to you, if you are not.
  

Over the hills and (not so) far away

      Another  gathering of the Sly Old Dogs and Friends last night, over at Monks Kirby. Earlier in the month than usual-timed so as not to conflict with the imminent Bedworth Folk Festival. http://www.bedworth-festival.info/       As it turned out, only a few of us performing there last night will actually be involved in this week's doings. 

 

    Stayaways last night  may have enjoyed X Factor and "Help I'm a Nonentity", but  they missed three bonus goodies, in the shape of Paco's Spoons, Paco's Stand-Up and Paco's Roast Potatoes. There was also (as always) some good music, a broad canvas of acoustic songs and plenty of healthy banter. Plus a hard stare from the Pub Alsatian, (probably potato-induced?), a remarkable display of ragtime guitar from a guest who sadly left after one song, and atmospherics provided by the power dipping periodically.

      

      The Dogs themselves,led by Pete Willow,  were pretty near at full strength with the exception of Richard Rider who was absent. And hadn't sent a note. They were certainly in fine fettle, and supplemented by Banjo Dave Evans, played some foot-stompin'  tunes with plenty of The Craic. They also added a few very mellow tunes also. Our audience slept fitfully, pounded the tables, read newspapers and returned choruses with only the enthusiasm a Sunday Night Bell crowd can do. Colin Squire and Martin Bushnell got very intense with something called The troll Walk. This involved real sheet music, and someone spotted the word "stave," which impressed all present. The troll took a little stumble over one very high rickety rackety bridge, but overall it was pretty impressive.

  

        Bob Brooker, as ever the  Fashionista, wore a very fetching Severn Valley Railway ensemble. His opening gambit was to slip the rug from underneath my feet by doing his own and very individual version of "Black Velvet Band." I am indebted to him for this, as it forced  me to sing something else and I'd  become lazy and over-reliant on using this as a crowd-pleaser/show stopper. And it's only really like me doing "Over The Hills" on evenings when Tony Super had intended to air it.

     So, having enjoyed Bob's "Kitten on helium" version of BVB, which fairly romped away, I introduced my first song by announcing that I was undecided on whether to start with "Bonny Light Horseman," or "Bridlington Quays." One of those is a Barnsley Nightingale song much beloved of Bob and the other is one of his. This was meant to be heavy irony . But Bob  was busy peering down the necks of various instruments  and missed this witty rejoinder entirely. I moved on to congratulate Colin Squire on singing something which had added Decorum. There were a few knitted brows at that, until I explained that this was just the Latin Name for Newcastle. I did "Peggy Gordon" for starters anyway, in case Bob had it lined up for later in the evening.

 

    Phil Benson had come along and between us we shamelessly plugged Black Parrot Seaside's Christmas Party at Atherstone Folk Club's on the 18th December. (Have I mentioned that?). He also did a couple of Keith Marsden songs. He likes KM does Phil.  

     Later,and inspired by one of Paco's  funny stories about a Spanish gentleman and his inability to differentiate between a Ram and a motorcycle, I  mused on Nuneaton Town's many jousts with Welsh football teams. I spoke some Welsh (I am  fluent in at least two phrases), and observed that any football supporters' songs about Sheep or wellingtons could nowadays get you arrested-anywhere from Wrexham to Newport. I also confided that my favourite animal joke concerns a Bear and a Rabbit, but is absolutely filthy. John Lewis  material it is not. I told them that we did a Beyonce cover about a Goat, and then with the audience now suitably baffled, I gave them a rendition of "Raglan Road." This time in a very high key, just to keep them all on their toes.

    We positively romped along through the third of three halves, and I finished my own contribution with " Lakes Of Ponchartrain." It was during this very moving rendition that the silver salver of (free!) Roast Potatoes arrived. Via the kitchens and  unseen by most of the audience. The other musicians couldn't reach them without pushing me aside,  and so without breaking stride or verse, I moved to the plate,  swept up a Roastie and a serviette, and deposited them both back on the table where I'd been sitting. That got a laugh. But then...I meant it to.

     

Ridge Lane Military Two Step

     Another wild and windy trip last night,  back across the Nuneaton Alps. For November's session at Atherstone Folk Club. Where the Featured Guests were Thrup'nny Bits.  On arrival, I parked up The Saladdin, hastily removed my bearskin and entered the premises.I soon discovered I had been duped by Club Organiser Phil Benson's into believing his Cock and Bull story about this month's session being entirely  military themed. This turned out to be not universally adhered to. Unless Donovan's "Colours" has some kind of reference to Tobruk in it, which I've somehow missed. Few songs anyone performed last night  had a direct link to the Military, although Resident House Band Finger in the Jar gave it a decent shot, in their two spots.  What a good job it was then, that I had  resisted the urge to wear full Gordon Highlander Dress Uniform whilst doing my "floor spot."

 

     Like a fool however, I had conscientiously prepared and rehearsed two appropriately martial songs, with the poignant proximity of Remembrance Sunday still fresh in my mind. I wasn't going to abandon all that  work I'd put in beforehand. I would not simply resort to some safer and more familiar Diddley Diddly music. Oh no. Edgy Leftfield material-as always.

    I thought I'd learned the words to Billy Bragg's "Between The Wars," sufficiently, but as it happened, the work I'd put in on this wasn't quite thorough enough. I sang it o.k. but I had to resort to the comfort of a lyric sheet on a nearby music stand more than once. Troubled also by a slight bout of Ridge Lane Flu (probably the altitude?) my larynx dried out so badly whilst singing this, that I had to take a slug of Goat's Milk (3.8%) to fortify myself before continuing. 

 

     Suitably recovered, I plugged several up and coming events featuring  many of  those present. I then set about  regaling the audience with "The Old Barbed Wire." What could go wrong with that trustworthy old Army standby? I sang the truncated and bowdlerised version which BPS used to perform in the 1970's. It went well enough, with the audience  singing verse and chorus along with me.  I felt that the full 20 minute version (the one where the role of each rank serving in the trenches of WW1 is individually visited and scrutinised, and ultimately, the whole Battalion end up impaled) was not suitable. However,I was reprimanded afterwards for not doing the version so beloved of NAAFIs from Catterick to Bovey Tracey.  Wikpedia confirms that there are actually several variants of OBW (besides ours), and even that Chumbawamba recorded a version  in 2003. The only commonality in all these versions is that Officers did not like it.  Apparently. 
  Sometimes, you just can't win.  I should have  done "Chicken on A Raft " instead. I had it in my pocket. (The words-not a fried egg on fried bread, which is Royal Navy Slang for this delicacy- hence "Chicken on a Raft" ).    I guess I'm on a charge, now. Jankers for me.

Here's a Mark Rider photo of me ruining Barbed Wire. You can see the back of my head as well. it's a wonder they weren't all blinded by the reflected light. That's a pukka Church End Brewery ad. on the wall in the background, by the way  

 

    There were some collectors items last night. A club debut from Peter McPartland, a singer with a really nice voice and a pleasing guitar style.  A song from Steve Beeson that was under eight minutes. (Sorry, Steve!). Two and a half songs from lovely local girl (via Saarfend), Maria Barham.  And the novelty of seeing Malc Gurnham and Gill Gilsenan heckling on the front row. When one is more used to that situation being reversed. A return to the Folk circuit for that demi-Legend John Meacham. John's had  an even longer break away from it than we had. It took several pints of Sadler's in the Felix Holt to persuade him back. John's now on a promise to join the BPS Collective for a tune at Ridge Lane next month.

 

    Two songs from a substantial portion of Green Man Rising-Steve Bentley and Andrew-preceded my little cameo.  Rousing stuff as ever from the Risings, with keeping one's feet still an impossibility throughout their slot. The Thrup'nnys then returned for a second feature. Gaz, Babs n' Dez (they'll kill me for that!)  did two excellent slots, whilst various members of the audience virtually fought over who could have custody of the dog each time they performed. It was light and shade stuff from them. Some stirring ballads: one very rude (but clever) song superbly enacted, and even a rather lovely early Christmas Carol.   The audience were also treated to not one but two separate renditions of a Sydney Carter classic, "John Ball."  One from The T. Bits and one from The Fingers. Hopefully those two bands will never merge. "Finger in The Bits" is just wrong on so many counts. Both very different: both equally enjoyable: each one having a different bird doing the carolling in the morning.  

 

   Only one tiny grumble over an otherwise totally enjoyable night-the miserable crew who slunk out at the interval so they wouldn't have to buy a raffle ticket. Not the first time they've done this-they have previous form!  Scrooge Lives! I won the raffle for them, but decided to re-donate the prize for next month's do at Atherstone. Which, I can reveal as an Exclusive here will see all proceeds that night donated to Nuneaton's Food Bank. http://nuneaton.foodbank.org.uk/

 

Now sod the John Lewis advert and their soppy cartoon bear-can you possibly get any more Christmassy than that?  Can't wait for December's session-who's on that night?

Bedworth Folk Festival and December 2013 Appearances/Updates

Bedworth Folk Festival 2013 http://www.bedworth-festival.info/

 

Hot-off-the-Press  information for any Bedworth Festival goers. We are making two appearances here, both on Saturday 30th November. One is early Saturday afternoon, in  the FM Lounge, upstairs in  The Civic Hall from 12.45 to 1.25. That's 40 minutes in old money, so do look us up if you're out and about. The same date, but in the  evening, we are part of a show compered by Bill Bates, appearing at Bedworth Rugby Club. We're scheduled to be playing for half an hour there, some time around 9.10pm.  It seems highly likely that for both of those slots, our usual three-piece format will be supplemented by BPS Collective members Dave Parr and Festival organiser Malc Gurnham.

 

Hinckley Act http://hinckleyact.co.uk/

  Only a  few days after the Festival,  Wednesday December 4th ,Black Parrot Seaside will be hosting the "Club Night"  at Hinckley Act. This should mean an extended slot from us and some fair banter whilst introducing the other guests. This is a decent club with excellent facilities, and it's easy-access/parking, off the A5, in a modern Industrial unit rather than in Hinckley itself. Admission is £3 members £4 non-members. There is a strong possibility that we will be joined on stage that night by Malc and Dave. Earlier that same day, there's the threat of some Cabaret which may involve some BPS members, at The Larder, a WW2-themed café   in Atherstone.

Atherstone Folk Club: http://www.atherstonefolkclub.org.uk/

    And for a December finale...on Wednesday December 18th, Black Parrot Seaside are honoured to be  leading Christmas Festivities at Atherstone Folk Club, which is based at The Church End Brewery Tap, Ridge Lane Nuneaton.     Again, this event is likely to feature the fully extended BPS Big Band sound-we've  already had a promise from John Meacham to make a guest appearance, for example. Can you really afford to miss some very special adaptations  of Christmas Songs and carols that night? Or Festive versions of  "The Whistler", and our twin homages to Folk Clubs and Folk Musicians? In which Audience participation is not only  guaranteed-it is mandatory? And wherein appropriate Seasonal Fancy Dress is recommended/advised?  If all this sounds like a little too much excitement,  you could always just sit and drink the excellent beer in the other room, and listen to the mayhem.  Despite the massive entertainment level, this event is FREE-the only one of the above (other than the Café) to be so.

Blowin' In The Wind

-Although it wasn't, last night, as it happened. Because Hurricane St Jude hadn't even turned up by the time I set off across the North Warks Moors. Perhaps because of the  predicted Stormageddon (which never actually materialised), the musicians and audience numbers were a little thinner on the ground than usual when festivities got under way at The Bell in Monks Kirby. Mysteriously, as each song in the initial first of three (!!) halves got under way,  a new audience member arrived. Perhaps they were all just very shy initially, and had been hiding in the other room, just waiting for us to begin.  Perhaps a fallen acorn or a confused rabbit had blocked the road, delaying their efforts to join us.  Anyway, even before the first interval, the place was almost becoming  busy as usual and the chorus singing had risen towards its usual high standard.

      The Sly Old Dogs and Friends were befriended last night by myself, Sue Sanders and Jan Richardson. It was a first MK appearance from Jan and a very welcome one. She started with a version of "Steal Away" (not that one) which was enchanting. Not to be outdone, Sue  Sanders demonstrated her versatility by putting the fiddle aside, picking up a guitar, and singing.  a spooky song about Pendle Hill. Later this pre-Halloween theme would be developed by Pete Willow, who sang a Weston and Lee song made famous by Stanley Holloway. As a kid I used to love singing the line containing  " She walks The Bloody Tower," as I could swear without getting told off for it.

 

   I launched my contribution by having a second public  bash at "On Raglan Road-"a song I am still working on. I think I've got the tune-but I'm still struggling a little with memorising the lines in the third verse. There were only a few people there to hear me try it out, which is perhaps just as well-though I was quite pleased with it, as it happens.  I was invited by Pete to conclude the first half with "something noisy we can all sing along to."  Two songs in a first half? I wasn't prepared for that. But I chucked in an old Brinklow favourite- "The Old Barbed Wire." A rapidly-growing audience sang along with it. right noisily  A few were unfamiliar with the clever little punch line at the end of the song, so it  got a louder laugh than usual. That General-he's a naughty boy, isn't he?

       The Lincolnshire Lark, Bob Brooker,  took another  Barnsley Nightingale song and cooed it out most touchingly. He goes all misty-eyed when doing Kate Rusby, Bob does.  But then.... what red-blooded man wouldn't? Bob also revisited the Remembrance theme with a touching version of "Willie McBride". Much table pounding there. We were getting wistful and nostalgic, so although I'd intended to test out "Between The Wars," I sang "Peggy Gordon", instead. With the SODs accompanying me rather nicely.

 

    Martin Bushnell regaled us with  a haunting traditional wedding song, and Colin Squire led a rousing rendition of "Yarmouth Town."    The Orchestra  treated us all to traditional favourites such as "Leaving of Liverpool" and "Jock Stewart" aka " A Man you don't meet every day."  Jan gave us several more songs including the Coffee One, and those three halves were suddenly rattling away  like no person's business.The joint was really rocking by the time Sue Sanders got her Shakers out. It would have been stupid of me not to have done "Black Velvet  Band", by this time. With no Sean Cannon in the room, and an audience who evidently wanted to sing chorus songs., it would have been rude not to. All to soon we were bellowing " Go Lassie Go" and then bidding farewell. Even if there had been a storm-we wouldn't have heard it.

A Number at The Humber

     How good it was to be back on slightly saner Cov. turf last night, in the University Quarter, for a Singers Night at The Tump Folk Club, Humber Road. And what a quality array of talent  was assembled there!

         I chose to make this another atmospheric Tump night for me personally, by getting the bus into Coventry and then walking to the venue. It also meant that I could have a pint or three. I sampled Sheffield's  finest, with some excellent Abbeydale in The  Whitefriars Ale House, then walked  again past all my old childhood haunts, savouring the memories. Last time I did this, (February) I passed my old school and my old house in Northfield Road. Last night I decided to explore instead, the Far Gosford Street and Bramble Street route. I also wanted to see how my Grandad's old house in David Road looked. 

      How radically this area has changed. Opposite what used to be The Paris Cinema was the boarded up premises of the iconic Enterprise and Variety Store. Somewhere hereabouts was a milliners, and (rather incongruously) a Coffee Bar called The Jungle. My Mum and dad thought it very degenerate. They banned my sister from it. so she obviously spent many happy hours there. Gone also from Gossie was Garners with its magnificent pies: Trout's the Bakers and an odd Philatelists nearby where I bought my first stamp album.

 

    Bramble Street was most notable for the shocking amount of litter flowing through the gutters. The detritus of thousands of post--clubbing late night meals. Chucked in the gutters rather than anywhere else. The Hare and Hounds, (now a supermarket) was my Grandad's nearest booser. He played darts for them before the Golden Cup seduced him away with a massive transfer fee.  I bought  a bag of chips from Cooper's (still good!) and  suddenly there I was opposite Grandad's old place.  Still with its high front step and the door opening straight into a front parlour. A room kept only for "best" and smelling of apples. Just a few houses up the row,  Brown's the Cobblers was long gone, and the alleyway which I once used as a  short-cut between these two parallel streets was sealed.

       The Charterhouse CIU Club was still there, in David Road,  but differently named. No more would there be lines of parked-up Godiva Bantam motor coaches, waiting ready to take coachloads of urchins to  Dudley Zoo or Wicksteed Park. ( I fell in the Boating Lake there. Granddad didn't sponsor me on many outings after that!).

     Further still up David Road I sought in vain the Elim Pentecostal Church, which temporarily lured me and several others in my gang away from the wooden pews of All Saints. With the promise of a free bible, if I attended regularly. I did that, for a week, won the Good Book , left and flogged my copy. I was a streetwise child. The Elim and its Sulphuric preachers was long gone. All student Lets. 

    I cut up St. Margaret's Road and back into Northfield Road. And horrors! The Gosford Park Hotel on the corner, was boarded up too. One more venue where the band had once played, now derelict. No Stamping Works thundering the pavements 24/7 either-it's a housing complex now. Finally, I walked along the footpath which crossed the site of the old LMS railway line between Nuneaton and Humber Road Junction. I swear I caught a faint whiff of swarf and creosoted sleepers there.

 

      At The Humber itself, few audience members wanted a free chip, to my surprise. We were seated like an enormous interview panel, the full-length of the room. We kicked the evening off with (another!!) wobbly version of "Houses in Between," which is becoming a bit of a Bête Noire for us. We followed with a much stronger version of "All Over Now." We were all then in turn charmed by the perennially delightful Terry and Jan and entertained by wizards of guitar and fiddle respectively, Julie Neale and Nigel Ward.  Julie did an excellent version of Steve Stills' magnificent "Four and Twenty". How I love that song-I have considered doing it myself once or twice. We were serenaded by the harmonious and charming repertoire of Malc Gurnham and Gill Gilsenan. (And now I'm beginning to sound like Nicholas Parsons reading the closing credits of Just a Minute.)

     The ever-improving Cheryl attempted some typically challenging tunes. The back-from-India-intact Campbell McKee and that Sly Old Dog Colin Squire sang some traditional songs. It was good to hear Colin wheeling out "The Calton Weaver"-a personal favourite of mine.           

         There were also  two artistes I'd not seen or heard before there, Hilary Wilson and someone who has, enigmatically, simply to be known as Kenno, until Karen tells me what his real name is.  He sang the Small Faces number "Lazy Sunday, " and did a good version of a Billy Bragg song, " To Have and Have Not." All this and Canal Poetry too. With Spitfire on draught and in good fettle. We are simply not worthy. That's almost a mini-festival.

 

   Later,  Black Parrot Seaside returned. The evening's beer intake was taking its toll on me, as I sang "Lakes of Ponchartrain,"  in far too low a register. "Courting is a Pleasure" redeemed us though, and was not bad at all. We finished off events (literally) as The BPS Collective, joined by Malc Gurnham on acoustic bass. Together we bashed out rousing versions of "The Odeon," and "Albert Balls," both of which included some excellent audience chorus singing.

   

 

   

 

 

 

  

The Only Way is Cov.

        Sunday Night in Green Lane. Could be a film title. I dropped into The Sty Folk club last night to see Rob Oakey and The Gang. The club is so named, not because the venue is untidy, or full of porcine grunting, but because "Sty" is short for Styvechale, the posh area in Coventry. Beanfield Avenue scrapes into this area. Just. (It's a long road).

    The "gang" proved to be a little thin on the ground, but what they lacked in numbers they made up for in eclecticism and enthusiasm. A broad swathe of music and Performance Art, from recited poetry to Hoagy Carmichael. From The Faces to Bob Dylan. From The Cuckoo Is a Pretty Bird to The Everley Brothers. On guitars, keyboards, harmonica, word of mouth and acapella.

    The Sty  provided a canvas for me to experiment with a few solo projects. I tried out  three songs  in public there for the first time: "On Raglan Road,"  "Between The Wars,"  and "Sorry Feeling Blues." By Luke Kelly, Billy Bragg and Bo Carter respectively. Three songs spanning several generations.The first two I was pleased with.

 

   The Bo Carter one got a bit messy, as the guitarists present decided to accompany me, and that proved to be a little traumatic for all concerned. We used to do a much filthier Bo Carter song when we were a six piece. Couldn't do it now. He was a dirty boy, was Bo, and this is one of the cleaner Blues he recorded. I also performed "Midlands Lullaby" -a BPS semi-original, beloved of BBC Local radio. "Bring It On Home" " Need Your Love So Bad," and "The Old Triangle."  overall, I think I got away with.

    All of this was accompanied by a riotous, shouted dialogue from The Cast of Shameless in the adjacent room. TOWIC. As one particular lady, supping JDs in the other bar got louder and louder, her language got saltier-drowning the acoustic music at times. She should have come round and had a go. Her voice projection was astronomical. 

     As she bellowed on,   I fell to reminiscing about what a very diverse experience playing to, or listening to ," Live " music can be.  Sometimes absolutely euphoric. Mesmeric, even. The first time I saw Warwickshire's finest, the Edgar Broughton Band, at "Mothers" in Birmingham, for  example. Rasping guitar, rasping vocals and lyrics which I still regularly listen to and admire. The first time I saw Stan Webb actually crying, in The Leofric Jazz Club, as he sang "The First Time I Met The Blues."  And actually meeting John Lee Hooker. In South London. I bought him a coffee, before he tore the whole place up, accompanied by The Groundhogs. Sometimes an occasion like that, when an artiste or an audience rise to the occasion creates a shared experience that is memorable.

    And then, as a performer-there are other  times. Not quite so enjoyable. In Rock format we had very good days at Nottingham University,Hitchin Poly and Warwick University, to name but a few. Elsewhere, we played support to The Darts and East of Eden-memorable. Our gigs  at The Golden Cross were always a gas.   But  The Smithfield Hotel, was a bummer. We got told never to come back by Ver Management , because we'd played a reggae song. The place is long demolished now, and good riddance to it. That kind of endemic racism shite would get them closed down today. Barred too, from The Ryton Bridge Hotel. For swearing. We said "Bugger." Paid off and escorted out through the back for our own safety at a Working Men's Club in Stoney Stanton Road. Because we refused to play Quo or Elvis. Chucked out of Elizabethan Days in Brum, for making disparaging remarks about Villa over the P.A. system.   

      Folk-wise it's been generally, a lot  better. God knows we've had enough practice. Not too long ago we turned up for an open session in a Warwickshire pub, forgetting it was St Patrick's night. All psyched up to do our own stuff and a few sleazy Blues. Dunno how many times we did Black Velvet Band-but it brought the house down whenever we did!   And the archetypal man and a dog-only  audience? We've done it. Tamworth Arts Centre. They both fell asleep. I don't blame them. We went back there to fulfil another Agency booking there and it was closed. Says it all.

   Anyway, last night wasn't anything like that-just a tiny bit disturbing in places. I went out into the car park afterwards with the Loud Lady now reduced to sobbing over the snooker table and threatening to fight someone. I hoped to find my car still intact and not jacked up on bricks. I was not disappointed. The journey home proved as interesting as the evening's entertainment. I took a wrong turn and ended up counting the Speed Bumps in Coat Of Arms Bridge Road. Just round the corner, police were attending to an RTA. Surely there's a song in all this somewhere?