Got One?

We’ve all got ‘em. Yes all of us, without doubt or question. Despite the fact we sometimes deny it, hide them, deliberately loose them or even if we have sadly genuinely lost them, Mothers are, by and large, an entry requirement to the folk world.

Then comes the learning process, we all sat on the floor at Mother’s Knee (she had very short legs), and absorbed, as wrapt little fledgling folkies, the words of wisdom, dripped by experience into our receptive and shaping folk and acoustic consciousness.

Useful Folk Club tips like, if the Chairman says he’ll give you a ring, he probably won’t, if the barman says the cask if fresh, it probably isn’t and if someone says they’ve forgotten the chords, then they undoubtedly have.

But by far the most useful words ever gifted from Mother to Son (or daughter, let’s be inclusive), must be the worldy advice “If you have nothing to say, say nothing”.

Sadly, me Mum never said that to me, so Welcome Gentle Reader, to this week’s blog, and read on…

Those of you with any experience of these pages will have recognised the signs and reached for the wine, but for the tenderfoot, it has been a quiet week in the world of FG.

For the most part that is.

We have started the process of getting the next recordings going, organised a gig, written two songs, had several duo practices, bought a microphone, arranged to visit a club and had a rehearsal for next weeks gig in Tudhoe.

As I said, a quiet week in the world of FG.

It’s a matter of sadness that we did not get to see chum Chris Milner at the Lamplight on Friday – hope it went well Chris? The upstairs room in the Lamplight, grandly labouring under the sobriquet “The Derwent Suite”  is a great venue, and we have discovered that with a bit of graft folks will turn out– even ones that the band doesn’t know! One can even get ones mush in the theatre guide and have hyperbole crafted for one by another one what obviously doesn’t know one – if you see what I mean.

So yes, we had a great night and it was the culmination of much of the afore mentioned graft. Hence the quieter week really.

We have arranged a speculative gig in Newcastle in the upstairs room (a theme is developing here) of The Millstone pub in South Gosforth, itsAcoustica, the musical behemoth that is Andy and Catherine will be doubtless putting FG into the shade with their intriguing and wonderfully developed music on 23rd November (tickets £3 in advance £4 on the door – God loves a trier) with Nuggetsound and a bar – it doesn’t get a lot better really. This will be interesting as this is a new venue for us and a new venture for the pub. Naturally, we hope for a great night.

Carol, and I have been getting closer and closer (stop that tittering at the back) to the studio (there, I hope you’re ashamed) in the shape of our new homebuilt facility, and to that end have added a new SE 2200a studio condenser microphone to the list of toys. I am going to really try to get in there, just as soon as the decorating is done…

Two new songs are shaping very nicely, one a swift shanty-ish ditty and the other a sprawling multi part epic tale in three parts and sixty seven instruments – sound familiar?

stop press edit: FG will be features over the next few weeks on The Acoustic Show on Radio Tircoed with  Andy Boyt and Stuart Loosemore Fridays 8.00pm

listen live link:

http://www.radiotircoed.com/

The week ahead is busy-ish too, Monday will see us at The North Britton where we haven’t been for some time – a chance to catch up there will be very nice, and on Saturday, FG entertain in the lounge of The Green Tree in Tudhoe. This is a full acoustic outing, and folks can listen, sing, or quite possibly not as the mood takes ‘em – should be interestin’.

So, as my Mum should probably have said, I have little to add, so I’ll only add a little. I notice that as the slack capo of fret three is noticed two bars into the seven minute epic and the guitar solo looms, the guitar player of fate sweats the veritable buckets of destiny, and it seems, it’s the end of this blog.

Until next time Acoustic Chums,

Keep Strummin’

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