Look, it’s pretty simple.
What happens is, I tap lots of rubbish straight into t’Internet and magic happens so that you, Gentle Reader, can see it. This ritual happens every Sunday morning, so there are several constants. Me, Sundays and the rubbish.
And you too, bless you; Be welcome, Gentle Reader, and read on. It is the convention of this missive to tell you what we have been doing, mutter about what we might (but quite possibly won’t) do, then hurl some fairly thinly veiled brickbats at the Sacred Cows of the music world.
Well, it’s tiring me out; those brickbats are heavy, and no matter how hard I hurl ‘em, the Cows (Sacred or otherwise) remain unimpressed to the point where I could be seen as a grumpy old so and so, miffed at some perceived sleight received from an uncaring music establishment.
Let me tell you that nothing could be further from the truth, how very dare you.
Actually, it is quite close, but, in mitigation, I do try to be balanced.
Which is why this week, my tone is upbeat, positive, happy and utterly banjaxed.
We have just (and only just) finished a recording task that we’ve been pushing hard on. With another show of ‘Waters of Tyme’ at Bede’s World tomorrow (if you’re reading the repeat, you missed it – it was great) we wanted the CD to go with it completed and ready. This has taken the greater part of the week, but, mes braves, it is done and much saluting, haloos of great joy and benediction can be heard from the halls of the mighty studios of FG towers.
Once the clouds of incense cleared and the blood of virgin lambs, sacrificed ritually were cleared away, we even got the mastering completed, the artwork done, the CD’s burned and everything pulled together ready for the gig.
Which is worth a ‘phew’.
Next however, is the tricky subject of price. Many’s the Acoustic Chum we know who sell CD’s at around a tenner. Or, should I say, they offer them to a doubtful public for a tenner. CD’s aren’t a tenner online, they’re not a tenner in the few remaining shops and, after gig admission and a few drinks, it has to be a pretty exceptional night to sell CD’s on top. Especially at a tenner.
Our good, if embattled, Acoustic Chums, the mighty jiva (may his ponytail be thrice blessed) have recently released their entire catalogue for free. This takes the form of free downloads. I can understand the myriad patterns of motivation that encouraged that decision, but – it’s a thought.
It is a sad fact that people do not pay for music these days – or at least most people don’t. Some folks do the naughty downloads thing, but, in the main, they don’t need to. Spotify has everything most mainstreamers want and it’s free. So how much to charge for our new CD? And all the other CD’s too.
We’re going to have a go at £3, which will break us comfortably even. I’d rather folks took a bit of us away and listened to it, hopefully enjoyed it and spread the word.
Let’s face it, we’re not gonna get rich on CD sales.
At three quid or a tenner.
So this week, a few care home gigs (and library visits) and a bit of scouting for the upcoming Museum gigs. A few phone calls in and a few more gigs on the board. It’s as busy as ever, but it’s great fun, and being FG is much better than daytime television. …hang on though; maybe we could work out a mid afternoon quiz show based on a Folk Club?
Chairman Dave could be the host and there could be a team of residents and a team of guests artists. The residents team could change each week, but the guests wouldn’t.
Chairman Dave would ask questions that the teams would try to answer, thus winning minutes. After winning five minutes, they’d do a floor spot (unless it’s the residents, then it’s called a gig), while they do the spot, the rest of the teams have to look as bored as possible, with extra points for actually falling asleep.
The winner is the performer who manages to play for the longest amount of time without the rest of the performers throwing a strop and marching out.
It’s a winner.
What to call it though… It’s a quiz about folk… Folk Knows?
I don’t. And so as the guest spot of destiny concludes, will it lead to the gig booking of justice, or the ‘enjoyed you stuff’ of dejection?
Until next time, Acoustic Chums, Keep Strummin’
 It’s the Dining room
 …it was a kebab…
 …yes, yes, I know; a phew what? I was there, thank you.