How to avoid politicians…

Ah the political tumult.

Nice Mr Farage has a grin like a Cheshire Cat (not any of your foreign cats, a CHESHIRE cat). And one with a job. And a private pension plan probably; and don’t even ask what colour it is. Our fearless leader, Shiny Dave and his faithless minion Little Nicky quake beneath their bedsheets, fearful that at last, someone may have woken up and worked out what votes are for. That leaves just Our ‘Ed, who if the world turns on a very eccentric axis could be our next fearless leader. Until he gets kicked out, in which case the party will be Edless.

 

And the connection in all this, to our wonderful, peaceful, calm and unruffled world of Acoustic Music?

Simple, if you play enough during a week, you can cheerfully miss the whole lot.

 

Especially if you go whence Nice Mr. F[1] gets his Cat-Grin.

Be Welcome Gentle Reader, to this, the FG Blog, and read on…

 

Yes, a few days on the road for your fearless FG chums as we trundled across the M62 in search of Cheshire. We found it, just after the M62 ran out, and deposited ourselves ready for a brace of evenings in a couple of Folk Clubs. The first was in Lymm, at The Spread Eagle, this was our second visit and first as guests. So 2 x 45’s from us, running though some of the new stuff and quite a few well known songs too. A grand evening with great regulars, very friendly lot too, who sang lustily along, all great stuff and many thanks to Bernard. If you are in the neighborhood, it is well worth a visit on a Thursday evening.

The next evening (Friday, fact fans) and we in good order and finery for Bollington Folk Club. Another very nice and friendly club, with a fantastic variety of talented regulars, we gave of our best and had a lovely evening, thanks due on this occasion to Pete, and we hope to be back to see them again before too long. Bollington bosts an embarrassment of pubs, the one you require is the ‘Dog and Partridge’. A fine club in a fine hostelry.

The pictures are of course, courtesy of our travelling road crew, The Wrinkly Wroadies. Pauline has a habit of surprising Folk Club MC’s by smiling happily up at them and announcing “We’re The Wrinkly Wroadies[2]”. And why not for it is, in fact, true.

 

We also did a library show this week, and discovered that ten in the morning is not necessarily the best time to hold a musical event. We always let the libraries choose the time, on the grounds that they know their communities better than we do. On this occasion it might have been better to suggest that we know music audiences better than they do, as we managed to get very few out of their beds.

Two.

Ah well, ah me, it happens to us all. The previous library show[3] attracted around 40, so you can’t win ‘em all.

Additionally, we were next to a big window with our projection screen.

Can you guess what’s coming next?

The Autumnal Sun of County Durham blessed us all with its benefice and smile and completely wiped out the projector into the bargain.

Nil Desperandum, Acoustic Chums, we thought ‘There’s only two lovely punters; we’ll turn the laptop screen round and they can see that’.

Well, it worked, but turned out to be a Bad Idea.

Because we played our songs to the top of their heads as they stared intently at the supporting visuals that were meant to be behind us.

Y’lives and y’learns.

You may not be able to win ‘em all, a no-score draw is sometimes all you can hope for; but Tuesday we got a few points on the pools form. We’d been invited to a Primary School to do our ‘Beat The Drum’ show. Adapted for the consumption of primary pupils (by dropping the rude words from ‘Mademoiselle from Armentieres[4]), we were presented with 120 or so Y3-6 pupils, just my fightin’ size. We had an absolute blast and great fun it was too. They’d all been doing some research prior to our visit and so when we did our WW1 medley, the rafters fairly rang.

And they even liked the FG stuff too!

 

The new CD-EP is out now. I’m sure it will join the others on CD Baby (Amazon, iTunes, Google, et alia) in due course but for now, “Dancing with Moonlight’ is available from us and at gigs. The price, as before is £4. We are fairly chuffed with it as it marks a progression in songwriting, performing and recording. A home project studio can never replace a professional setup, but then again, CD sales are unlikely at this point to replace the thousands of pounds a pro studio costs.

I like the sound our little studio captures.

And it’s fun.

So there.

 

Now.

There may be new Gentle Readers, attracted to this rolling river of acoustic drivel, so it behoves me to explain to them, the poor lost souls, what The King’s Head and Washerwoman’s Legs Folk Club is.

That could of course take a long time.

So the potted history is that TKHAWLFC is a traditionally styled folk club, held in the back room (unless the Leek Show is on) every Thursday. All are welcome, or at least tolerated and rarely eaten.

The whole shootin’ match is guided by the benevolent hand of Chairman Dave. Dave understands ‘Benelovent’ in the same way that the Borgia Popes understood ‘Subtle’, so some blood is, invariably, on the carpet.

This week it seems that a visiting singist, unaware of the political affiliations of the club dropped an inadvertent clanger[5]. (Chairman Dave is a staunch Labour Supporter. Only because the local branch of the Provisional Wing of the Chairman Mao Agricultural Suicide Activists closed after an unfortunate misunderstanding with the local police and the Army Bomb Disposal Team, but he is staunch). So the visitor launched into a spirited rendition of a 70’s song, re-arranged for an Unaccomplished Singer. Dave re-arranged the blokes nose before the rest of the Committee hauled him off and explained that ‘Maggie’s Farm’ is not a paean to Tory rural re-organisation.

And with that convoluted tale out of the way, as the Floor Singer of fate is reminded by the Cricket bat of Karma of that forty-four choruses is enough, I notice that this is the end of the blog.

Until next time, Acoustic Chums,

Keep Strummin’

 

 

[1] ‘Nice’ is a word. Not necessarily an opinion.

[2] Her face is a picture of innocence. Which is how you know to be worried.

[3] At two in the afternoon. Is that the dogwatch? Or The Catnap?

[4] No. You’re quite right. We don’t do them anyway.

[5] An inadvertent Clanger is one thing, an Unexpected Soup Dragon is quite another.

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