Sheesh!

Sheesh!

..and I mean it too!

It is rare that I use such strong language; and for that outburst I unreservedly apologise should any Acoustic Chums be outraged/offended/variously hacked off (delete as applicable) by it.

That fact is that I am completely Kerry’d[1].

It is the end of the working term – for those of us still allowed to work in education, but also – frankly more importantly – the end of a busy old week for FG.

What events lubricated the parched throat of the ol’ FG gullet?

Be Welcome, Gentle Reader, and read on…

 

I’m going to start a folk club. Not a new one, an old one. Very old, it’ll have been running for some years by now, well on to the fourth Chairman.

Curiously, the Fourth Chairman is the same chairman as the first, second and third chairman; the only hiccough in this democratic accession being the need to variously murder opposing candidates until everyone took the hint.

If this sounds like a club you know, that’s the point. My club, let’s call it, ooohhh, let’s be careful here; will be ‘The Old King and Washerwoman’s Legs’, is held, every week without fail in the back room of the aforementioned pub. If you don’t know where it is (and many of you most certainly do), it is the industrial heartland of the North of England – which, on the face of it narrows it down to about two streets. I will be reviewing some of the acts that appear there as the fancy takes me, as well as introducing some of the characters who religiously infest the place on a weekly basis. You may have met Barry, the resident Poet. He gets up every week – which is worth a round of applause as a feat of physical gymnastics  unto itself, and reads a poem from a book. It’s always the same book, it’s always the same bloody poem, but no-one seems to mind, largely because no-one seems to listen, as Barry, bless ‘im, as has the Poet’s curse, which is the singular inability to read with anything vaguely approaching a fluid style. A certain trousered dampness, possibly, but fluidity? No.

The Old King Folk Club. Get yourself down there soon.

Yes we have been busy. Three opportunities to play this week, all different, all filled with different spices of Eastern Promise and all on consecutive evenings.

First up was Billingham Golf Club. A first for us, the way it works is: the musicians play while punters chomp happily away at the fine vittles on offer from the kitchen, then they have a spot of Ballroom Dancing. Different perhaps, but what a lovely evening we had. The Main Man, Michael, was a real pleasure to work with, and made the experience very enjoyable. Crowded, perhaps not, but we had a really good evening and seemed to go down very well, which is the main thing. We look forward to a return visit; maybe take the big show[2] this time though…

 

Next, this being Friday by now, the Stormcrow CD launch at Loftus. We had been invited by Mark and Amanda (aka Stormcrow; a rustic blend of mayhem and lunacy) to participate as we had contributed to their latest CD offering ‘Cliff Land’ – a full review should be in the next blog, but Acoustic Chums, this is good stuff; Mark has put in some inspired work at the old faders, and the results, featuring AC’s from near and far, is very good! More anon; perchance. The night was as riotous as you’d expect, far too many friends there to name check, but The Station, was bouncing as befits a venue with a reputation to live up and down, up and down, up and down to.

Our only regret was the need to slip away just before the end; we got off stage at about 11.35, and with an hour and a half to travel home, we sloped regretfully off into the night, for all the world looking like an acoustic duo noctambulous  into the liquid air of a Teeside dayfall[3].

That would get us to Saturday, then.

Another CD launch, this time in celebration of Mr John ‘The Power’ Jeffery and his singular success of achieving a personal milestone in the form of his CD ‘End of the line’. So the FG army (S & C and The Wrinkly Wroadies) were on hand to support. Previously reviewed in these pages, the evening celebrated John’s work and a small army of friends were on hand to contribute to the evening at The Comrades in Tiddley Bay. We decided to spice up the proceedings by having a monumental tuning cock-up at the start of our set in which my Ovation Twin Neck, happily in tune at the back of the room, decided by the time it had walked to the front to be wildly out of tune. Ol’ ‘Ace’ Higgins did offer to tune it for me – but I ask you Acoustic Chums, he plays a banjo – what’s he gonna know about tuning?

Special thanks to Jimmy and Val- the jiva Sound Massive and street-beat machine, gave out the message to the hood – y’know what I’m sayin?

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Thanks to Doug ‘Buttons’  Westley for the photies.

Hopefully this week will be full steam ahead on the Help for Heroes project, we will be putting the arm on quite a few of you soon to help us get this promoted and raise a few bob for the wounded servicemen’s charity.

 

For more news of that and a review of The Stormies CD (have to give Mark’s cheque a chance to clear) tune in same time same station next week, because as I spot the end of the page approaching and realise that the end of the blog is near, I see that the folk club virgins of Hope hear the call to the stage and try not to slip on the unfortunate widdle-puddle of Terror, and the CD launch party chats happily to the remainder bin of fate, I notice it is now, the end of the blog.

Until Next Time Acoustic Chums,

Keep Strummin’

 


[1] As in ‘Kerry Packered’. If you need more help, ask your Mum.

[2] Oh, you know, backdrop, pa, lights; and…. Bass Pedals!

[3] It wasn’t raining though.

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