Torn pages from an old calendar….

Old Holywood movies.

They do it well.

If they want to illustrate the passage of time and condense it into a short interval, they’ll show the pages of a calendar being torn off rapidly and fluttering away in the breeze; thus we understand that time has passed.

And so it is here at FG towers; someone has snuck (horrible word) in and torn off the pages of this last week’s calendar and thrown them to the four winds.

So, what was writ on the now discarded pages of our past?

Be Welcome Gentle reader, and read on…

core poster pic

We were of course full of good intentions at the start of the week and as usual only got a few bits actually done, but what we did get done was useful. A great deal of behind the scenes negotiating going on, of which I shall reveal more soon enough, my pretties, and a couple of adventures out, plus a lot of FG admin, new websites with new communities and even a report from one of our spies deep within the heart of The King’s Head and Washerwoman’s Legs folk club.

So to begin.

The usual rehearsing and practicing gets us going at the start of the week, working on new songs, but also working up all manner of old ones, and songs that never quite made it first time round but on revisiting, look and sound fine.

During the week I discovered a new website and community which may be of interest to the here assembled masses.

NuMuBu is a web streaming service which is free and high quality, and incorporates a solid community feel, not unlike a Facebook within the website. There are some big names already on there, Nazareth, Gordon Giltrap, Elliot Randall, well known coves round Musical Manor.

It is easy to use and very high quality, but we had problems with the sound. I said as much on the forum page and was somewhat surprised on Friday morning to receive a personal phone call, from Canada from the CEO of the company to see if he could help out with the problem. Impressive. As it happens the problem was a loose nut on the steering wheel, we’ll be having another tech run through this weekend I expect.

I’ll keep you informed.

Thursday night and we in good order for The Beamish Mary. As usual a grand evening, made better by meeting a goodly share of Acoustic Chums and the chance for a natter with Ace Higgins, principal guitar pilot of stellar roots acousticians ItsAcoustica.

A grand evening, tightly run as ever by Mr B and even the organizing of a date for FG to do a feature spot in June – most welcomed by us.

Photos courtesy of the Winkly Wroadies, and some more of the Cluny from John Devlin- thanks John!

Friday and we in tight order for the coast to attend Acoustic Chums jiva at the fourth meeting of their Songwriter’s Symposium. Interesting to hear a lot of new songs, some from season campaigners at the Battle of the Song, others heading in for their first skirmish. Chris Kelly went along too, and he although always what Granny would call a ‘canny turn’, is to my ears, gaining ground on the field and will romp home a clear winner before long.[1]

Jimmy and Val, as anyone who knows the jivsies, run the thing properly, website, community and everything! Well done to them too.

Other than that, the whole musical thing just takes over our lives, and very nice it is too, thank you very much.

Talking of taking over, more ructions at The King’s Head and Washerwoman’s Legs Folk Club are reported to me by spies in the camp[2]. Regular readers will know that Chairman Dave underwent a Damascene Conversion two weeks ago – no he didn’t have the operation – he converted to the side of light, truth and little pink fairies and has vowed to run the club fair and square without hint of smear of nepotism, cronyism, cheatism, or buy me a pint and I’ll give you a bookingism either. For the last two weeks, following his close encounter with the God of Folk, he’s been locked in the loo, but I can report he has, finally emerged!

He now wears a pair of white jeans, white granddad shirt and a white leather waistcoat, and even his hair and beard are white.[3] He is now reported to be strolling about the concert room on a club night warmly shaking hands, not letting go for a long time, and looking deep into the eyes of the claspee, searching for inner harmony[4]. Apparently he will even only drink the white bit of the Guinness. Each pint lasts an hour, then he wanders home alone.[5]

And so as the last act of fate is asked to end the folk night of destiny and chooses a self penned number; only to look up at the end of the song to realize they are alone, I realize it is the end of this blog.

Until next time, Acoustic Chums,

Keep Strummin’


[1] Look, if you are going to mix metaphors, do it bigtime. That what I always say.

[2] FG spies are dead easy to spot. They look like me or Carol

[3] They were before, but that spoils the story a bit.

[4] …and I could NOT resist that one.

[5] sorry

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