Gig 13 Geoff Higginbottom. 2nd April 2009
Anchor Folk Club
Blue Anchor Public House
High Road
KT14 7RL

Attendance: 60
Price: £5
My Location: 4th row

Record Recommendation: Shattered Cross: Stuart Adamson.

Watching The Raphaels’ video is almost putting a tear of sadness in my eye. It’s a collage of photos taken from Guthrie’s 1930s Great Depression, black and white video footage, and most poignantly of all, stills of a young Adamson, full of life with his friends and band-mates from Big Country; played to the sound track of Shattered Cross. I know that most of you readers watch the Transatlantic Sessions, and it was on series 3 that I first heard Shattered Cross. Darrell Scott explains how his friend, Stuart Adamson, had penned the song in the last years of his short life while living in Nashville Tennessee. Accompanied by Paul Brady and the Sessions’ House Band, Scott proceeds to do exactly what he said he wanted to, “bring the song to life”.

Before his death, brought on by an alcohol overdose, Adamson had suffered mentally from break up of his marriage. Scott explains that the song describes the state Stuart was in when he wrote the song; it’s about redemption, loss; the loss of trust. As the song progresses, it draws you into the world of Adamson’s darkest thoughts. It leaves you, like the Cross; shattered. The effort taken to put those words on paper sums up Stuart Adamson, when I saw him on stage, he always let you know you what you were seeing: The Man. There was no faking it; he had energy, an unmistakable guitar riff, song-writing talent, a natural ability to get a 10 thousand strong crowd roaring and clapping to his songs. Most of all he had passion for what he was doing.

Stuart Adamson playing it the only way he knew. Photo courtesy corbis.com

Back in ’01 when I heard of the death of an icon, I felt a part of my youth slipping away. I’d spent so many hours listening to Big Country, not to mention Sweet Suburbia by the Skids, and it was all over. But it’s not, the memories are still there, the albums still get played, the Restless Natives DVD is still available. The writer has gone, and taken his earthly burdens with him, his songs are still alive, and non-more so when Darrell Scott breathes fire into Stuart Adamson’s Shattered Cross.

Well, believe it or not, good followers of this blog, and those of you who were looking for the Folk Roots Forum that I’m told has a “comprehensive list of folk tours and festivals”, I’m half way through my year long venture to discover where real musicians are playing, who’s seeing them, where they are performing, and what the quality is like. I know many of the gigs I’ve been to have cost a fiver or less, but if you’re going to make the effort to get down to your local club, and pay to see an act, I don’t think it’s wrong to expect a reasonable standard of entertainment.

It’s hardly surprising that the quality of the acts has varied, Phil Beer, for example has played the Royal Albert Hall, and Bob Fox and Stu Luckley’s album Nowt So Good’ll Pass, won Folk Album of the Year back in ’78, so you’d expect those artists to put on a decent show! Most of the musicians I’ve seen are part-timers- only the privileged few can earn a full time wage from their music. Mick Ryan, who played at the sold out Ram Club with Paul Downes, has been involved in composing numerous albums and written folk operettas; he still tops up his musician’s wage by working as a teacher. However, for the night they are on stage, these people aren’t teachers, or delivery drivers or librarians; they are musicians, and I haven’t felt short-changed yet!

The Folk Clubs I’ve visited are institutions of hard working volunteers who organise events for the love of the music, and the desire to keep a tradition alive. Indeed, many of them offer a sense of nostalgia and a welcome escape from the hectic environment that pervades society. Some even offer really cheap beer! There is more than one reason to visit and support these homegrown musical associations.

So, let’s turn to the latest “association” to be visited, The Blue Anchor Folk Club in Byfleet, to see how they compare to the rest……

I have visited the club a few times before, and done a couple of Woodcut Process songs with Biggs as a floor spot act, so was recognised by club host Mike Peach when I arrived. We were both surprised that it was over a year since my last visit though- where’s all the time going? Mike had read exerts from this blog, was keen to let his club members know about it, and asked if I’d like to let them know what I was up to. It was a very generous offer, and one I couldn’t refuse.

The venue started to fill up quickly, chairs had to be shifted, and spares brought in to accommodate the audience. Apparently the annual visit from Geoff Higginbottom is a club highlight, drawing a larger than usual crowd. The said crowd were very lively, friendly, and anticipating a great night, which started with Mike and guitar being greeted with cheers as he sang Dylan’s If Not For You. A banjo playing Jim joined Mike for the Adventures of Tim Finnegan’s Wake. The two made way for Mike Davis who played Three Drunken Maidens. It was an enjoyable tune, played well and sung with a good voice.

Mike made way for Geoff, who started off his set with an unaccompanied shanty called Hullabaloo, which was about the agonies of a seasick fisherman. The lady next to me had been telling me earlier that Geoff had a powerful voice. Higginbottom lived up to his reputation as he sang the song with one of the loudest set of vocal chords I had heard, he had no problem projecting his un-amplified range to the whole crowd. With 12 string guitar in hand, Geoff proceeded to sing Alesia Byabrew. The song is about a lady who is pleasing to the eye, leading astray the song’s protagonist, a common theme in folk songs. I think there’s many a writer out there living in hope! I was really enjoying the music, and that voice was one you really wanted to sing along with.

Robin Dransfield’s Fair Maids of February, which Higginbottom described as “nice”, was next. To call it “nice” is an understatement, it started with lovely guitar, and had the audience captured. Paddy’s Not at Work was next, followed by my favourite of the evening, Joseph Baker. The song about the eponymous Cheshire long distance runner is a Pete Coe creation that strikes a chord with me, as I indulge in a bit of running, and I used to live in Chester. The words make me picture the athlete running gracefully across the downs, effortlessly beating countrywide challengers ranging from the ranks of soldiers to butchers. I find it a touching tune that ends with the sad death of Joseph Baker, and his ghost that can be seen running on up the hills of his county.

Higginbottom showed off his guitar skills for Harvest Home, before picking up the mandolin for Paddy’s Green Shamrock Shore. With a title like that, I expected to hear an “amusing” song. However, the song followed another popular theme- the one of leaving your home and promising to return to your love when the fortune was made. As Geoff said, ‘it’s promised by many, done by few’. I particularly enjoyed the light tones of the mando during the song.

As much a part of Higginbottom’s act as his singing and playing, is his between-songs entertaining. He interspersed introductions, with stories from his allotment, and a couple of half decent jokes- my favourite being the one about the ham-bush. You’ll have to see him for the full version; I can’t tell jokes- it probably wouldn’t even be funny if I wrote it down. He certainly pricked the interest of the audience whilst telling them of the true story of Bouncing Billy Barker, the hero of Tony Hill’s song that he played. In 1992 The Manchester Evening News reported Barker, who died aged 84 in 1965, could jump and ‘skim’, like a stone, across canals using hand weights that gave him momentum. I’m sure people of the time believe they saw him doing these leaps, but I’m also sure that one of Newton’s Laws mentions the equal and opposite reactions that would render his skimming impossible! Anyways, everyone enjoyed the song, and some read the extract from the News that Geoff brought along. Thus ended the first set.

After the break, Chris Harris continued the good humour with his ukulele-strummed tribute to the Blue Anchor’s special guest. I tell you what, it was a well written song, with some classic comic rhyming that fitted the theme. Higginbottom genuinely appreciated it! He hit the stage with Lloyd George, a moving song about a grateful farm labourer, just turn pensioner who was one of the first to benefit from the PM’s new pension scheme. This was followed by All the Good Times are Past and Gone. With the 60 strong audience joining in, the atmosphere was more Gospel Church than Surrey Folk, it was great sing-along stuff.

Almost as good as Joseph Baker, Higginbottom played Richard Thompson’s Vincent Black Lightning next. The first time I’d heard the song was on an old Dick Gaughan tape, and I loved it then. The song’s about rebellion, freedom, and young love; too good to last it ends in the tragic death of Vincent’s rider (there's a lot of dying in this blog!). It really is a solid tune; the fact that it mentions Box Hill makes it even more special. Mind you, Where the Conkers Grow, which followed, like Vincent Black Lightening had soul. Geoff’s traditional sounding voice made this a cracking song too. In a great evening those three songs were, for me, the greats.

After all the soul searching, further tales lightened the atmosphere. This time for the song Monkey Hangers: this one I believe to be a true story. It’s about the people of Hartlepool hanging a monkey they believed to be a French spy during the Napoleonic Wars. Because it couldn’t speak English, and looked “a bit foreign”, the people who found it assumed it to be on an intelligence gathering mission, for the French Emperor, about that strategic keystone, Hartlepool! The best part of the story, Geoff told us, is that 200 years later, the man who dressed up as Hangus the Monkey, the town’s football team’s mascot, was elected as Lord Mayor. I know this is true because it was on Radio 5 Live!

The penultimate song of the evening was Geoff’s third verse of Bob Marley’s No Woman No Cry, which is entitled No Rum and No Pies. I enjoyed the song; it would have been good if Geoff had sung a cover of No Woman though, I reckon he could do a fine job of it. For the encore, we were treated to Richard Thompson’s Meet on the Ledge, which has recently been voted number 17 in Radio 2’s top 100 listeners’ songs, which, with audience participation, brought back that ole Gospel feel.

Mike thanked Higginbottom for his excellent entertainment after the song. As I was about to leave, thinking that in the performance, he’d forgotten about my folk tour, Mike asked me to tell the crowd about my mission. I did so, and when I told them why I was doing what I was, I received a round of applause. Thank you all very much for that, and for a great night out. I look forward to returning in the near future.

As the second half of the Tour starts, I feel that it is really starting to gain momentum. This I hope to carry on at Islington Folk Club on 16th April when I watch Robin Gillan. See you there, Mark.

Gig 12 Dean Tainio. 19th March 2009
Orpington Folk Club
The Change of Horses
Farnborough High Street
BR6 7BB

Attendance: 30
Price: £4
My Location: Back row

Record Recommendation: The Boatman: The Levellers.

Hi, I was reminded of my youth, sunny student days, and learning the ‘kit’ whilst watching Dean Tainio on Thursday. And of one of the songs that, for me, epitomises why we bother to make music. The Boatman contains many of the ingredients that make up the recipe for the perfect song (notice I’m sitting on the fence a bit? “one of the songs”, not the song, and “many of the ingredients”, not all of the ingredients). There’s only one perfect song, and in a later blog I’ll give a totally unbiased resume of why it is perfect! What The Boatman does have is a fine rhythm, an air of dissatisfaction, a longing, and a simple set of descriptive lyrics.

I suppose the song’s lack of complication makes it accessible to a wide audience, including students learning to play the drums on an electric kit. A housemate of mine, Jepson, fancied himself as a bit of a guitarist and singer- to be fair he had quiet a powerful voice, and wasn’t afraid to belt out the words. The Boatman was a song he used to play, and I would attempt to accompany on the very fake sounding kit I learned my trade on. I had never heard the proper version of the song before, so if a listener, who was familiar with the original, had been ‘treated’ to a rendition of our music alone, he might not have recognised it as The Boatman. Just add the words though, and you’ve got a song that is recognisable, enjoyable, and can be covered and interpreted by the next band of roaming students, garage bands, or folk singers alike.

The Boatman appeals on many levels; what I like about it is that you can almost feel the open air, and the escape from the 24hr consumerism that we are all told will lead to a more satisfying life, the shallowness that is the media who tell us that what ‘celebrities’ do is important, to the calmness and freedom that the song yearns for. The Levellers, in their wisdom don’t tell you how to get your freedom- if they did, that would make them equal to the producers of X Factor generation- but they do leave the tiniest kernel of inspiration that might make some realise that there is more to life than The Apprentice.

I’ve wondered a couple of times recently whether or not I should invest in a sat-nav. I’m a cartographer by trade so know how to read, and prefer the wider picture the paper map provides. However, visiting the Orpington Folk Club in Farnborough would probably have been easier if I’d had the nice lady telling me which direction to take. It’s not that the Change of Horses is difficult to find; it’s that I didn’t realise it was in the other Farnborough! When I arrived, three of the club organisers, Ted, Steve and Anne were in the middle of an instrumental on electric accordion, guitar, and flute and money collecting respectively. I threw myself into a seat after the hectic drive, spilled half my black-current and soda in the process, and made my excuses to the gent sitting next to me. He had an artistic air about him, which wasn’t that surprising really as I found out 15 minutes later when he took the stage, he was non other than Dean Tainio.

Although it’s the longest running folk club in the area, the guys at Orpington aren’t a-feared of modern technology. As well as the aforementioned accordion; the likes of which I didn’t even know existed, the musicians were all fully amped with a well set up system, and Anne was sporting a headphone mic of the type Madonna would be proud to be seen in; the first time I’d seen this technology put to good use in a club of its small size. The three next played Liverpool Lou, followed by Queen of Belfast City. The music leant itself to producing a relaxed atmosphere which didn’t put people off clapping or singing along, indeed, the club felt very inclusive and informal. There was even some good quality heckling- instantly put down by the compares though!

The three gave way to the next floor spot act, which was Norman with his bodhran. As a drummer, I always appreciate a bit of percussion, and I think that the bodhran is underrepresented, and in some cases undervalued, on the scene. Ok, if it is unsubtly played, it can be over bearing, however, good folk, have some faith in your local drummer, and you’ll soon be enjoying the depth a well played bodhran adds to a tune. A good tip for budding singers demonstrated, by Norman, was to play the key he would sing in on the whistle first to tune his ear. If you ever see the Woodcut Process perform their version of Dick Gaughin’s version of Murphey and Quattro’s Geronimo’s Cadillac, after the drum intro the observant will see Biggs strum a single chord. The reason he does this is the same as Norman playing his whistle. Anyway, Norman proceeded to sing good renditions of Spencer the Rover and Sandy Denny’s It Suits Me Well. The song’s theme is pretty similar to The Boatman, I really enjoyed hearing it and thought that the bodhran complimented the tune well.

Next floor spot artist was club regular, Robin. He dared to talk about the weather, received agro from the audience, and introduced Bread and Fishes, Alan Bell’s popular song about Joseph’s pilgrimage to St Michael’s Mount. Robin did say walking songs, which includes Bread and Fishes, are set in spring or the month of May; he can’t have heard November Road yet. Next he sang The Irish Ballad by Tom Lehrer, which was well received by the crowd.

Dean was up next, and he opened with a couple of gentle ballads. These were sung in clear tones, accompanied by some fine guitar work. Next was the now well discussed The Boatman, which I couldn’t resist singing along with- it’s such a great song. Dean strummed it very simply, his style giving the song an even more raw quality. An upbeat version of Dougie MacLean’s Feel So Near had the crowd singing along, clapping and tapping their feet. The bodhran of Norman could be heard playing along too! It was great to see the audience warming, and enjoying the music.

The Lakeman effect hit us next with Dean singing The White Hare. It is always a pleasure to hear this modern song based on the traditional theme of being bewitched by the beautiful lady. She comes in a variety of forms- a Siren in the sea, a bird of some sort, or in this case, the eponymous White Hare. As Lakeman has penned “be careful if you catch her”. I really enjoyed hearing the song, and Tainio covered it well. We were treated to some fine guitar playing with an instrumental next. I thought Dean played the tune a little bit too quickly, however, who cares what I think when members of the audience were giving it who-oops of appreciation!

Throughout the first set, I had been impressed by the singing voice of the gent sitting next to me, who sang along with a lot of the songs. My ear for a good voice must have been in tune that night because Dean invited him- John- up to accompany him for a couple of tracks. John sang Will You Meet Me on Claire Island, with a lovely Scottish accented voice. The two performing together made a really big sound. Dean and John complimented each other well on When I’ve Been on the Road so Long, especially when Dean added a harmony in the chorus. The set was rounded of with a particularly energetic version of John Martyn’s Over the Hill. The first half did fly by.

I enjoyed a pint of Harvey’s Best during the break, bought a raffle ticket, which won me a bottle of wine, and had a chat with Steve- one of the organisers. He told me of the changing fortunes of the club. Back in 2005 they used to attract large numbers each week, where as now, the recession was hitting their audience figures. I did compliment him on the warm atmosphere of the club and the enthusiasm of the organisers. I also managed a quick word with Dean, and was most surprised when he told me that this was his first solo gig. I had spotted a couple of signs of nerves, I have to admit, but as I said to him, I would never have suspected!

While we were chatting, the organiser’s band, joined by second accordion player, Ivan, played the lively Lilting Fisherman and The Leinster Jig. Then, for the second time that evening, Robin was up and singing his stuff before making way for Dean’s second set, which he started on the mandolin. Dean played a couple of John Martyn songs, including a totally honest version of May You Never, followed by his interpretation of Robert Tannahill’s Gloomy Winter. Dean was starting to get warmed up again now and played some good guitar on this one. It was followed by Martin Simpson’s classic, it’s only about 3 years old, but I’m sure I won’t cause offence by putting it in the category of the classic, Never Any Good. From my back row position, I provided backing!

Like I am, many people are fond of the murder ballad, an example being Robin’s much-appreciated Irish Ballad. The majority are written of a bygone era and can be enjoyed as there is so much separation from the events. Tainio followed Never Any Good with a tune about an ill fated ‘have a go hero’ who stood up to the local youths and paid the ultimate price. It was a lovely melancholy song that I really liked; not in the way I like a murder ballad, the song was too real for that, more so in the way some of the Trenches songs hold you in their tragic lament.

Even though Dean’s set was going well, I could tell that the nerves were setting in again, caused, I think, by problems he had tuning the mandolin. I can tell you the stage is a lonely place; and I normally perform as at least a duo. So what Dean did in calling up John again was like pulling that lucky seven from up his sleeve. Having the calming effect of the soft voiced Scottish fellow singing This Love Will Carry Me refocused Tainio, and soothed the audience. The number had couples folding their arms around each other and gazing into the partner’s eyes. Good tune boys, and good use of the guest Dean.

It wasn’t too long ago that The Woodcut Process were suffering a similar, but worse loss of confidence. We weren’t having the best of times on stage- mainly due to Biggs having erected the tent we were playing in- it was an outdoor gig, set up the sound system, wired everything up, sound checked all the bands that were playing that day, and re-erected the tent after a torrent of rain nearly washed it away! From my position at the bar I was totally unaware that the lad was under so much stress. Luckily we had Jones guesting for us that day. Jones is a perfectionist, and he has been known to let a sloppy musician know what he thinks of them during a live performance. Biggs and I were so terrified of upsetting him that we pulled our act together for Jones’ cameo, and managed to keep it going for the rest of our act.

John (and Jones at the Woodcut's gig) departed to warm applause. Tainio completed the set with a great rendition of Mike Scott’s Wonderful Disguise, and another John Martyn number. The final song of the evening had Dean going full steam ahead, strumming powerfully to Galway Girl. An encore followed- a controversial little number about the trouble caused by those people who aren’t men!

Before leaving, I spoke to accordion player and club organiser Ted. He was very proud, and rightly so, of the club. He told me of some of the famous acts that had played at the small club, including Blowzabella, and the legendary Steve Tilston. Ted’s own band Triality had also graced to stage at one time or another too. As he was saying to me, many other clubs had sadly folded in recent years. I think the secret to Orpington’s success was making people feel at ease and welcome, dedicated organisers, and booking solid acts to entertain. I had a great night, enjoyed Dean Tainio’s performance, and will try and get back soon with Biggs for a singers’ evening.

Oh, they were giving out flyers, but I don’t believe it! After all my socialising during the interval, and clutching my bottle of wine on the departure I forgot to pick one up! Don’t worry though; my road hasn’t reached a dead end. I picked up a copy of Folk London a couple of days later, and the first gig that I found was Geoff Higginbottom at the Blue Anchor Folk Club in Byfleet on 2 April. I will see you there (how many Byfleets are there?). Mark