Gig 11 Barber and Taylor. 7th March 2009
The Open House
Springfield Road
Brighton BN1 6BZ

Attendance: 50
Price: £5
My Location: Back row

Record Recommendation: Sugar Mice: Marillion.

Picture the scene: it’s 4 o’clock on Friday in a bar. The lounge feels big because it’s empty except for the barman polishing glasses, a fellow who’s been drinking all day because that’s what he does, two other guys- not together but both smartly dressed- straight out of the office, one of whom drinks his beer a bit too quickly, and a 3 piece band setting up in the corner. The attention of one of the office workers is on his paper. The other two strangers at the bar are immersed in their thoughts, gazing out the window, occasionally casting an inquisitive glance at the band. The musicians quietly and methodically go about the business of assembling the kit, and are soon ready to sound check.

At the first harmonica notes, the thought-full suit is captured. Guitar and the click of cross-sticks on the snare have the barman and drunk listening. Vocals singing lyrics about better days and fading dreams have the reader pushing the news aside and turn his attention to the group. The song was The River, not Sugar Mice, and the band was The Woodcut Process, not Marillion, but the picture could have been painted from the words of the magnificent Sugar Mice.

The song is a wonderful harmony of flawless vocals and lyrics that tell a tale of regret, relationship breakdown, and something people these days seem to spend a lot of their time avoiding- taking responsibility! The build up of the song mirrors the anger and frustration felt by the protagonist at his weakness and inability to hold his family together. Although not shirking responsibility, the singer says “we’re just sugar mice in the rain”. It is a line that invokes a realisation that we are all potential victims of human frailty.

When he retired from Marillion, Fish left a tough act to follow- it’s an understatement to say that was an understatement (I think that makes sense). In my humble opinion, they’ve never quite hit the same vein since Steve Hogarth took over as front man, talented though he is. More likely is that they’ve become a different band that I don’t like as much as the original- it happens in rock ‘n’ roll. However, it’s up to him to input his ideas, and forge the best way forward for the band. As he was doing so, Hogarth must have spotted the genius that lifts Sugar Mice above a back catalogue of material that would have most signers salivating over. On the live Piston Broke album, it is the only Fish era song that he sings. And boy does he sing it; he doesn’t hold back. I’m sure that when Fish heard this version he rested easy, knowing his tune was in safe hands.

Sugar Mice is a song I’d love to play, but I don’t know if it’s of the style the Woodcuts could ever emulate- that’s not to say that behind closed doors we wouldn’t give it a blast. It’s not a song that can be reeled out. Unless we were confident that we were giving it the respect it deserves, as Hogarth does, we would leave it in the rehearsal room. The thing is, some tunes should just be left alone.

Returning to our opening scene, and the parade of lonely drinkers: it could have been any of the patrons of the bar Sugar Mice was sung about. Indeed, the band setting up were not immune to the condition that make us all potential “sugar mice in the rain” either.

Well, how was Brighton? It was my first visit to that seaside town, and like most other visitors, found it a thoroughly pleasant experience. My dinner was a delicious homemade affair bought from the Kemp Town Deli, that made the sausage roll I bought pre packed tasteless, even though it was a premium brand!

On my way to the Open House, I stopped for a beer at a hostelry that was for ‘ladies only’. I realised this too late as I made myself comfortable at the bar, and as I’m British, I didn’t want to make a scene by leaving. However, I must say I didn’t get the cold shoulder or get ignored; more than I can say for a lot of other pubs I’ve frequented. The bar also sold St Peter’s Ale- enough said.

After making light work of the ale- St Peter’s always seems to evaporate before my eyes- and receiving a call from Biggs to say he is now resident again in the UK, I made my way to the Open House. The pub impressed me- it’s not small, and its high ceiling and low lighting made it feel very spacious. The house music in the main bar was a bit too loud for my elderly ears. I found refuge in the rear alcove where I admired the contemporary artwork, which included a collection of radiators arranged in a collage, before going upstairs for the entertainment.

A very friendly money collector, and Kevin Barber, laying out tea light candles, putting out the chairs, and sorting the air conditioning greeted me! That’s what life is like in the music industry. Barber and Taylor had support that evening in the shape of Richard and Ron, playing tea chest bass, and guitar and mandolin respectively. This was the first time I’d heard the tea chest bass live, and thought it was a super instrument. What really surprised me were the range of notes that can be produced, and the deep bass tones. When I had a practise with Wilson, the Woodcut Process bass player a couple of days later, I was encouraging him to purchase such an instrument; he hasn’t bowed to my pressure yet, but it’s only been 1 week!

Ron and Richard opened with a competent version of Tom Paxton’s The Last Thing on My Mind, followed by Willie Nelson’s Funny How Time Slips Away, which they made look simple. Richard showed off his fine vocal range, as well as a bit of verve on The Blues ain’t nothing but a Good Man Feeling Bad. For the second time in a month, Lol George’s Willin’ was played. It’s a great song so it is no surprise when I hear it being covered- I’ve seen Dave Sharpe, as well as Phil Beer perform it. Ron and Richard’s version was very different from both, but it was a great interpretation, and that tea chest added a fine touch of character to an already personality-filled tune.

My favourite Richard and Ron song was Sam Cooke’s A Change is Gonna Come. Like Willin’ it is a wonderful song, but unlike Willin’ I had never heard it live before. Perhaps bands think other bands play it, and therefore avoid A Change is Gonna Come. But other bands don’t play a song that I think should be heard more. A Jimmy Roger’s Yodelling song was next, followed, also by a song I’d last heard performed by Phil Beer, JJ Cale’s Cocaine. They played it in a more orthodox method to Beer, to finish off what was a fine support act.

Kevin Barber acknowledged Richard and Ron’s performance at the start of the main act by saying, “we’ll really have to raise our game to follow that one”, before opening with Going Over Jordan. The powerful guitar gave extra dimension to the traditional Gospel song, which made it sound great. The driving guitar was followed by melodic notes for Taylor’s Sweet Marie, which has the ‘Acoustic Americana’ feel they describe the genre of their music as. The next couple of tunes, including Pennies from Heaven, demonstrated the guitar driven sound that defines their songs. The murder ballad Dearest Jane was announced; with the bad news that this would be the only murder song to be played that evening. A shame, I thought- there’s nothing like a good murder ballad to cheer you up. The lack of songs of this type was made up by the quality of Dearest Jane. It was a toe-tapping, mandolin bashing, vocal chord stretching, darkly cheerful song about revenge.

Barber and Taylor appeared to be of a very different nature. Where as Barber is gregarious, Taylor seemed more thoughtful and taciturn. However, their opposing characters lead to some pretty good in-between-songs banter that the audience appreciated. No more so than before Victim of Desire when Taylor announced we were going to be hit with the double whammy of harmonica and banjo! Of course the instruments were played to perfection.

I enjoyed Working on the Railway, a song about prejudice, before being treated by Broken Flower, an emotionally sung Spanish lyric-ed number. Before the break we were treated to a medley with excellent musicianship of Folsom Prison, and Mystery Train. On my most recent visit to Folsom- my brother lives there (in the town, not the prison)- I decided to visit the prison museum, which is within the perimeter, but not the walls of the prison estate, to get a feel for the establishment immortalised by Cash. Even though it’s no longer maximum security, and doesn’t hold death-row inmates- they are in the nearby California State Prison, it is still an imposing structure, surrounded by high walls built by earlier inmates. In the tranquillity of the

garden in which the museum stands there is still an oppressive atmosphere. The exhibitions of weapons made by prisoners to use on each other hold a ghoulish grip on the visitor. As the curator, who used to be a warden, said when I asked why weight training inside had been banned, she said in an unforgiving tone “the place is full of bad men, and they don’t change”. I cannot comment on whether it’s an opinion endorsed by the American penal system.

What was I on about? Oh yes, it was interval time, and I had a chat with the ‘money collector’ about the quality of the evening’s songs, the full house, and the lack of murder ballads- we didn’t dwell on that topic ‘cause we’d both thought the first set was great fun. As I was in ‘geek mode’ though I did recommend her listen to Country Death Song by the Violent Femmes. It’s a cheerful little number about someone who chucks his daughter down a well. If they don’t already, I think that the tune would be perfect for Barber and Taylor to cover, as it is acoustic Americano bluegrass.

The second set started with a new self written blues song, so new in fact that Barber forgot the words! This was followed by another new track of theirs A Dangerous Game, about two brothers in the English Civil War. It was a tense song that explored the relationships within a family where conflicting ideology drives them apart. Three cover versions were next, starting with Guthrie’s Vigilante Man. I respect the band for putting their own slant this classic; it was a little up beat for me though. A mellow, with harmony, ballad version, of Ring of Fire was next. The song was sung with tones of regret- I do approve of this sort of well-produced despondency. A blues interpretation of Heard it Through the Grapevine with fine mandolin and strong guitar throughout impressed. I would not have been surprised if Barber and Taylor had gone on to play the Creedence Clearwater Revival’s 13 minute version of the song; personally I wouldn’t have minded!

A change of theme followed. This time it was about medieval sex desires with the Love of Daisy. The song is an intriguing number set against the historical background of the politics of knights and nobles. Barber and Taylor then unleashed Old Walking Blues, and Walking The Dog, before playing Jackson Browne’s The Barricades of Heaven. The song featured some quite outstanding guitar as well as strong vocals. For the encore, a really distinctive version of Hank William’s I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry was performed. What a way to round off the evening!

The whole Brighton experience was a cracking one, with the band distinguishing themselves with their performance. Go and see Barber and Taylor, they are appearing, and rightly so, at numerous festivals around the area. Check their website for details.

As I left the Open House, I searched for a flyer to guide me to the next destination on this web of related folk clubs. All of my looking was, once again in vain, and I had to go home flyerless. It’s a good thing I’ve got my Around Kent Folk mag to direct me. On Thursday 19th March, I’ll be visiting the Orpington Folk Club to see Dean Taiuio.

I’m looking forward to seeing Dean, you, and some flyers there. Mark.

Gig 10 Trotwood. 20th February 2009
Seaford Folk Club
Beachcomber
Dane Road
Seaford BN25 1DX

Attendance: 60
Price: Donations
My Location: Back row!

Record Recommendation: Talkin’ Bout a Revolution: Tracy Chapman.

I’ve heard it all now! On a news bulletin it was announced that Ryan Air are considering charging customers to use the toilet facilities on their flights. Apparently these are a ‘luxury’. In their “bid to drive down costs for all passengers”, Ryan Air may take a fee for using the loo. One of the few things that annoy me- I find the list of annoyances, like my age, seems to be on an irreversible trend of upward- are companies who dress up money making policies as ones which are beneficial to the punter. Someone has worked out that Ryan Air can make more money by lowering fares (probably not increasing them more like) and charging for the use of the facilities- which are, let’s face it a basic human need. If the change wouldn’t make a profit, they wouldn’t even consider the policy. I most sincerely thank the benevolent Ryan Air for being so considerate to its customers!

As for charging people to use public toilets, that is a scandal of the highest order too. There is a public convenience in my hometown of Weston Super Mare, on the edge of Grove Park, which used to be maintained by two ladies. Between them, they kept the place sparkling, well stocked with cakes of soap, and freshly cut flowers in vases, and had piped music playing to relax you while you went about your business (I haven’t used it for a while so things may have changed, in case you visit and are disappointed with the experience). When you visited, you could feel the sense of pride the ladies took in keeping their loo clean. On the way out was a bowl for donations, which I felt happy to contribute to.

However, the same cannot be said of the facilities at Waterloo Station. As the venue of the majority of our busking ventures- Waterloo Station, not the loo at Waterloo- both Lambert and I are regular users. Where as Lambert has resigned himself to paying the 30 pence!! fee, I refuse to bow to the injustice of having to pay. The turnstile has a bit of play in it, so you can pull it toward you and slip through the widened gap it creates. You can then enjoy what I think is everyone’s right, the free of charge toilet!

I was reminded how great Talkin’ Bout a Revolution is on the chartered coach from ski resort to airport at the end of a recent holiday. The driver was playing a surprisingly fine collection of tracks from a CD that he must have compiled himself; I haven’t seen an album with those tracks in any store. When we were caught by the opening bars of Talkin’ Bout over the system, my companion Hollis (who should know better as he is a part time DJ) and I were racking our brains as to who the artist was. Hollis suggested Dylan, but I recognised the song as more contemporary- for me 1988 is modern!

When Tracy Chapman’s unmistakable vocals broke in, it was obvious what the song was. The thing that is not obvious to many, is that it is Chapman’s song- the lyrics have the feel of having been lived in, like they’ve been around for a while. When I heard the song for the first time, I was surprised that it was Chapman’s original- I am a real cynic when it comes to good music. If I hear a great tune from a new artist, I find myself checking the back-catalogue to see if it’s a cover. Sadly to say more often than not, if it’s good, it’s a cover.

Not in the case of Talkin’ Bout a Revolution. Chapman sings about starting a quiet revolution, and about fairness and getting rid of poverty and the injustice that accompanies it. It sounds as if it’s the song Dylan inherited off Guthrie, it really is that good, of that flavour, and of that quality.

The great thing about the tour I’m on is that I have no choice of where the road will take me. Throw in the crazy world of folk and I need to “expect the unexpected” “be prepared” “baton down the hatches” have strings in my bow, feathers in my cap, nails in my coffin, and any number of other clichés written for raising the spirits one can think of. If it wasn’t for this tour, I would never have gone to see a French family play Irish folk music, let alone drive for a couple of hours to get there! But that is what I did when I went to see Trotwood at Seaford Folk Club.

Club nights for Seaford Folk take place in the conservatory of the Beachcomber Pub. The Beachcomber is in a prime location on Dane Road, on the seafront. I was very impressed with the bar- it was one of the longest I’ve seen for some time! The place was a bit run down though, and due I hear, for demolition. Not much incentive then to refurbish the place and turn it into the thriving business I’m sure it could be. If you’re new to the area, don’t be put off by the outward appearance; a warm welcome will greet you into the club.

Seaford was the friendliest club I’ve visited so far. The evidence for the why the place is so welcoming, has been gathered scientifically on my tour! They are, I consider: the small(ish) room, the layout of the tables- you have to sit close to people, which encourages interaction, and, most importantly, the openness and affability of the organisers. The club also admits children, which changes the dynamic of the evening- some may not enjoy it, but the fact they were present at this gig- performing and being inspired I’m sure- was a positive. I expect that this year, I will take young Morris- the son of a friend- to see some folk. He’s just getting to the age where he will appreciate what’s happening, and may even decide to learn an instrument, or how to dance and carry on the tradition. The lad has seen The Woodcut Process, and says they are his favourite band- the honesty of children is a wonderful gift!

Back to the organisers of the evening- John Cave had been expecting me, knew I was in a band, and asked if I wanted to sing as a floor spot. I politely declined, although I am starting to think it’s about time I learned to strum at least one of The Woodcut’s tracks and play it when I can. I will, I admit be a poor-man’s version, but it will give people a flavour of the band’s material.

The venue was starting to fill up, and John and his “assistant” for the evening Roger graciously collected extra chairs from the bar for all to sit on. They then started proceedings with and instrumental- John on guitar and Roger playing accordion. Next they played Froggy Went a Courting. It was good to hear people singing along- it’s a simple song and lends itself to being accompanied. John took his leave to let Roger sing No John. This was the first time I had heard properly how the shrewd character of the tune turns the lady’s No Johns into an affirmation to marriage. Roger then played and appropriately rustic version of Ring a Ring a Rosie.

Pearl and Collin were next, singing acappello Bring us a Barrel, followed by It’s all Gone Away. It was at this point that all the lights went, as Roger dimmed them enhance the cosy feel of the place. Floor acts were coming thick and fast now- Steve Dodd up next singing Gallows Tree. I really enjoyed this as Steve sang well, and I have a soft spot for the darker tune! Stuart and Denise Savage followed with Maggie May (trad version), and a cracker of a tune about a lumberjack in New Brunswick called the Ballad of Peter Emberly.

After all this entertainment, Trotwood made an appearance! Trotwood are a family act boasting three generations, playing at least three musical styles, on accordion, concertina, flute, banjo, cello, fiddle, guitar, penny whistle, and harp- yes harp, not harmonica. Christmas at their place must be insane! Right from the off they had the audience clapping along with an Irish waltz. This was followed by Yellow Red and Blue, and Castle of Dromore. When the whole family sang, the vocalisation was lovely, as was the harmony they put in.

The family’s appreciation of the English language was excellent. The father did most of the introducing, with Grandpa and mum explained a few as well. Indeed it was the said matriarch who introduced King of Fleisch. The song was about the head of a state in historic Ireland, who due to the small population of his subjects couldn’t raise many taxes to pay a large army. To deter invasion, he ordered his musicians to compose a fearful marching tune that would terrify the enemy. The out come was a limping marching tune, and a generation or so later the throne of Ireland. The ensuing march that Trotwood played was excellent, they switched instruments half way through- whistle for fiddle, and harp for banjo- and provided a tremendous build up.

A change of tempo in the form of The Midnight Special was next. With Roger sitting next to me and singing lustily, not even I could resist joining in with the song I had first been made aware of on an old Creedence Clearwater Revival LP. Although not really my cup of tea, the family then played Does Your Chewing Gum Lose its Flavour, which got some enthusiastic members of the crowd dancing! Although they were part of Trotwood’s “rent-a-mob”, it was great to see them twirling and skipping to the song!

During the interval, I had a good chat about all things folk with the floor singer Steve Dodd. He told me of the thriving scene around the South Coast area, which included several music, and a couple of Morris Dance clubs he had belonged to. It was good to talk to someone who had an excellent appreciation of the local scene, and he inferred that around there, the Morris scene was doing well, which is always good to hear.

Floor spots started off the second half with a local grandfather and grandson act of Noel and George. They sang Horsham Farming Lad, and Wellies. It was great to see George- about 12 or 13, strumming away and singing without a hint of embarrassment for the audience. Frank and Barbara were up next putting in a valiant effort of Matt Highland. Ray followed with a lowland ballad. Two thirds of Cornflower Blue, Chris, and Jill came after Ray. They played the self- written track Beside the Sea. I really enjoyed it, and to be honest, they were a cut above the average floor spot and played the song in a mellow relaxed manner. Grandpa Trotwood played fiddle for them on the Everly Brothers French song Let it be Me as the final floor spot song.

The Trotwood’s were soon attacking their instruments with vigour kicking off their second set with an instrumental, followed by Molly, Gentleman of Kent, and Tack of Barley. My favourite tune of the second half was Red is the Rose. The song is played to the same tune of the more famous Scottish You take the High Road, but instead of being about Loch Lomond, it’s about the lakes of Ireland. It’s a wonderful tune, and always good to hear. Trotwood then sang the Monkey Song, which was in a similar vein to Does Your Chewing Gum, before the youngest member of the band, not to be outdone by the local youth, sang I’ve Got Sixpence. Although she did look a bit self-conscious, she had a lovely voice and sang with great clarity.

During the penultimate song, I noticed the difference in playing styles between the youngest and oldest members of the band. Both were on fiddle for the toe-tapping Gold Ring Jig. The young ‘un was stroking like mad, with elbow up and down, and all over the place. Grandpa, meanwhile was economical with his strokes- the years making him a more wily protagonist of the instrument. The encore had everyone in the venue clapping along, and Roger accordion-ing away with the tune.

As I said cheerio to the organiser, John, he invited The Woodcut Process to play at Seaford. Biggs is back soon, so I don’t think it will be long before we take up the invite and restart our touring with a night at the most hospitable club I’ve been to yet! They even gave out flyers- the next leg of my tour is to The Open House, Brighton, on the 7th March, to see Barber and Taylor. I’m already looking forward to it.

Hope to see lots of fellow music fans there too. Mark.