Ah, I thought it was you, creeping up the stair, softly; anxious not to wake the household nor yet let them into your guilty, sordid little secret.
No, I can understand why an apparently respectable member of musical society would wish to keep hidden the fact that they, on occasion, when the weakness is strong, read this, the foul testimony of acoustic rubbish that is the Fool’s Gold Blog.
Well, turn down the sound, and move that mouse quietly and once again, Be Welcome, Gentle Reader, and read on…
This week the blog leads off with a something a little different. The Ice Bucket Challenge has swept the consciousness of the nation, or at least it has for those whose consciousness might benefit from a light beating. My own views are, if you wanna, then do it, if you don’ wanna, don’ do it.
We don’ wanna.
However, we have been nominated.
Enter the pages of this august tome one Mr John James Kelly, whom I have known since 1969, and we can therefore be really quite rude to each other without either of us taking particular offence. He did wanna, and nominated us, for which Gee Thanks. However I was already busy washing me hair, so we had to find, and elect a substitute. Thankfully I was in contact with Prog Folk Superduo ‘The Iron Pirates’, and asked it they would mind being our surrogate in the Ice Bucket Challenge. They didn’t know what a surrogate was, but said yes anyway, and this is what happened…
Manual, late edit footnote thing.
We’ve discovered a very silly ‘feature’ on ipads – if the sound doesn’t play on your iOS dvice, you can go to settings > general > sidebutton > and turn it ‘orientation lock. That will let the sound play. It will still play when you turn the setting back again. Bizarre. The only thing more bizarre was working out the fix…
If your device doesn’t play the sound (which would be shame) try this link:
Unfortunately the sound was busted on their video camera, which was made in one of those countries for which the Quality Control Standards of Taiwan are an aspiration, so you couldn’t hear who they nominated. By carefully reading the lips, I thing they might have mumbled something about someone called ‘Chairman Dave’…
A busy FG week again, a rather posh outing to Selaby Hall to play for the Friends of Bowes Museum at a Garden Party. There was a marquee, there were cucumber sarnies and there were hats, even a member of the real I-am aristocracy, and I don’t mean the bass player from Queen. It went quite well we thought, as we mixed up the FG set with a few local songs and trad numbers, and we left the place intact and talked about it for hours – all the way down the drive in fact. A gig at The Lantern Club in Hexham – that was nice to play for those folks who really don’t get out much, so it was nice to do something that they enjoyed. Plus a care home which we hadn’t been to before but got asked straight back – a nice week of playing.
There are some pics of Selaby Hall knocking around here somewhere, courtesy of course of our travelling support unit, The Wrinkly Wroadies, who after a few at the bar, usually have to be supported themselves.
Mrs Wroadie has obviously had a few as she is sporting a rather fine plaster cast on one wing. Mind you, it is useful as Mr Wroadie is sporting a large bump on the head – the cast makes the perfect weapon…
Next week four shows and a folk club visit. Blimey, pass me a damp cloth.
I suppose you could be forgiven for thinking that I have it in for drummers.
I have it in for everyone.
One of the freedoms of writing a blog is the wonderful sense of distance imparted by the Internet itself. Tapping alone at a keyboard, it is easy to forget that somewhere, sometime, somewhy someone might actually read it.
Therefore I tend to gambol happily skipping into a perfumed and private private world of the imagination, where I can say anything – anything at all, with the absolute guarantee that any indiscretion will be instantly forgiven simply because it is never actually voiced.
Then of course I hit the ‘publish’ button and that veil is lifted and the consequences are there to be reaped.
So, if this week you spot a bit of the blog that you think would offend a drummer – do us all a favour.
Don’t read that bit to them.
The cause of this seemingly random attack against the percussive classes is of course our very own good acoustic chum, the percussive prince himself David Pratt. It came to my attention that he has been referred to as ‘Dangerous Dave’. Now that, my small acousticians, is like a red rag to a bull to an idiot like me.
All sorts of cartoons have been floating around inside my head, wherein to be fair; there is plenty of space.
Unfortunately this week we have been busy creating the animated cartoon which I hope brought a small chortle, a chort, if you will, to your lips when you saw it earlier. That being the case, this paragraph is to presage what is to be come; I’ve been sketching and although I thought it was funny, the real and ever present danger of litigation has stayed my impulsive hand,
That and it isn’t finished.
So, next week, all being well, God being in his (or indeed her) Heaven, and barring a lottery win – in which case you can all get knotted, there should be a cartoon strip in the blog in which Dangerous Dave auditions for The Iron Pirates.
Clearly, this has nothing to do with us, or indeed anything to do with reality.
Of course not.
Should we even bother trying?
CD sales I mean: is it actually worth it at all?
In the days were we see the big heavyweights like Coldbum, Radiobonce an Yee’nall  releasing their cd’s for free (and they are not by any means the only ones), should we even be bothering to attempt to relieve the concert going public of their hard earned fivers in exchange for shiny plastic disc containing allegedly pleasurable sonic delights? It’s easy to download CD’s and apparently anything you might want to listen to in the way of new music is either on Spotify or YouTube – I didn’t know that there are full albums on YouTube, but there are hundreds if not thousands of them.
So, should we bother?
I suppose not – but only if we are as big as the afore mentioned U2 where the reasoning is that the album can be given away as the huge stadium tour is where the dosh is really to be trousered. But for us, as home producers and playing the size of shows that we do, selling a few quids worth of CD’s at the end is still very much worth it.
Even if we’ve only ever made 18/6d
And so as we approach the drum solo of Destiny and the rest of the band of Life joins the audience in the bar, I notice it is the end of this blog,
Until next time, Acoustic Chums,
 Which, to be far, is where that argument falls flat on its face,
 Look, you should have to do some work.
 Well, that gave that one away.
 18/6 is actually the natural time signature of many drummers. In fact, in most, it is the only time signature.