Here we go again.
Blog time is happy time, so you could at least make the effort to smile.
There; that didn’t hurt did it?
But the rest might.
Be Welcome, Gentle Reader, and read on…
Last week I was told off by one of our readership because there were no footnotes. As a consequence you can expect the page to be scrolling up and down like a politicians trousers.
When we was very little, I mean really little and were just starting out on the old folk club thing, the world was a strange and mysterious place filled with dreams. Prevalent dreams revolved around the nirvana of the Folk Club world, which was (and in some ways still is) -getting a gig.
A Gusset night, call it what you will.
Whichever term you use (don’t use the gusset one though, folks clubs are broadminded, but gusseting is unlikely to endear your cause to a promoter) a gig was the ultimate object.
Back in the day, I recall our first ever booking. We bounced, whooped and hollered for quite a while – we were quite soon told it was all a mistake and it wasn’t us at all, but I still recall the bouncing.
These reminisces have been called to mind this week as it has been a week for whooping, hollering and, should the circumstances allow for it, the odd bounce too.
Of course we are far too professional to stoop to such things these days. Long it tooth we are, accomplished ‘n sensible ‘n that.
So we’ve been bouncing our b*****n’ socks off.
This week we have added (we think) fifteen dates to the gigs calendar.
I mean, that’s more than Sting.
A few of them are Care Homes, which we are very pleased about as they seem to have come from recommendations, which is probably the nicest of the lot. We got asked to play a folk festival and a folk club asked us to do an extended floor spot – lovely. There have been bookings for our Stories with Strings show too. These are from U3A and Probus branches, the last few have had audiences of over 100, so they tend to be good fun to play.
Stories with Strings, in case you are interested, and indeed even if a B***er is exactly what you couldn’t give, is our musical show where we use a screen, images, video and technical trickery involving a laptop and a plug to tell stories of events, characters and places (often local) then perform the songs live. It goes well.
It must do, as I am chuffed to the elasticated bits to announce that on June 20th Fool’s Gold will present ‘Stories with Strings’ in the Alun Armstrong Theatre, Stanley. Promoted by the theatre, this show will be in the main auditorium, Tickets £8 adv £10 on the door. Autographs extra.
What makes it doubly wondrous, is that we are delighted to announce that opening proceedings will be Chris Milner, singer, songwriter, troubadour and part-time Turk.
It promises to be the best night in the complicated history of FG so far, so we really hope it’s a great night.
Bounce, bounce, bouncity bounce.
To labour the point; the images below are of one such show – not a ‘Stories’, but ‘Beat The Drum’, (similar, less jokes). Thanks to the Wrinkly Roadie press corps for the pictures.
In other news, we’ve played four shows this week, Care Homes and U3A. The U3A was in a lovely hall in Whickham; it is hard to play in the morning sometimes, but this was such ‘triffic fun that it flew by. That was a ‘Stories’ show. H’mm, methinks we’ll spice it up a bit for June. Dry Ice? Lasers? Miniature Stonehenge and dancing diminutives? Rock on.
The King’s Head and Washerwoman’s Legs Folk Club is making a big push as the new year lumbers into musical action. They have decided that variety is the spice of life and have offered a special prize for visiting musicians that turn up and play a new or unusual instrument. Normally they torture anyone who has the nerve to turn up with any instrument. However, they have remained true to their Folk Club prime directive – although you can play any instrument, it must be ‘Mountains of Maughan’ or the ever popular Fields of Athenry.
Chairman Dave will be the judge on the night so there will be no question of bias. There’s no need to question it, it’s just there.
And there I think I’ll leave it for another week. I mean, I’m not even here – even more than usual – as we’re playing at a house concert in Saltburn tonight. Rock Hard, Rock Heavy Rock Animal.
And so as the gig getter of fate bumps into the promoter of destiny and is booked for a summer season in kitchen at Harrods, I notice it is the end of this blog.
Until next time, Acoustic Chums,
 Except the one about the custard.
 These days the bouncing is less about starting it, but getting all to stop again when you’ve finished.
 …and you can stop that sniggering.
 Or down the shops, either way…
 Terms and Conditions apply, other Stings are available
 Look, you really have to read this stuff regularly if you want to have and hope of knowing what is going on. I write it, and it confuses me. Chris Milner played some gigs in Turkey a short while ago, and I have never let old ‘Turkish’ forget it. Good job he’s a nice bloke.
 In the back room, every Thursday. It used to be free, but there’s a cover charge now. Your soul.
 Unless it’s a squeeze box of some sort. Which to be fair, doesn’t really count.