“Some days y‘are up.”
Old Jock would stentorously proclaim from the front of the School Hall during assembly each morning.
He would the pause for effect, fiddling with his rosary beads and eyes closed, head lifted, as if awaiting for divine inspiration.
It always arrived too.
“And some days y’are dooooon”.
(If you imagine John Laurie uttering the line, it sounded like that.)
Unfortunately the divine inspiration was always the same, and everybody joined in with him, reducing the effect to a vaudeville romp.
Turns out he was right though.
I have awoken this a.m. with a cold.
Be Welcome, Gentle Reader, and read on.
As it happens, I’m glad you’ve arrived, as it gives me the chance to dash off all the news – the juicy bits anyway – then race on with a string of FG related jobs.
You’ll have had your tea?
As I hack and splutter over the keyboard and Carol stands by with an industrial sized tub of disinfectant wipes prior to proof reading, I’ll press manfully on, in the manner you’d expect of a Folk Hero.
We’re finishing off the month with a couple of Care Homes, and another History Group; this time in the City Library in Newcastle City Centre.
Right in the middle of the City Centre.
And it’s a pest to get to. The one way system, if signs are to believed, makes it impossible to actually get there at all, and of course, you can’t leave the car. There are a very few bays there, but they are usually full or if one is free, the parking charge is astronomical.
Did I mention the City Centre?
So, we drop the gear at the cellar cargo doors, then Carol shoves it in while I brave the traffic and look for a place to park, one that means I can still get to the gig on time.
It’s not all about adulation and stardom y’know.
Which brings me to the first of this weeks revelations and the cause of the rush. We’ve been recording the new CD and have made some pretty good progress. All tracks are recorded. Most have been rough mixed, and four have been exported for a first critical listen, prior to the final polish.
That’s pretty darn good progress, and what I’m dashing off to do as soon as I finish chatting with you, you lovely pink thing you.
But please, stop doing that.
This week has been good, but busy. We caught up with Andy and Cath Higgins earlier in the week, and learned of plans for the good ship ‘ItsAcoustica’ to return to the stage. This is a very good idea, and we look forward to that. We’ve had the usual phone calls and emails to deal with and have been attempting to juggle trips to the deep south so that they make some sort of sense. At one point it looked like we were going to play in Colchester one day, Nottingham the next, then Southend the day after. Thankfully, Carol waved her magic wand and sorted it out.
But anyway, I was talking to you about a revelation…
The revelation came as I was mixing a lead guitar bit and playing with the sonic possibilities that the software has to offer. I can make my PRS sound like all sorts of guitars, and make it appear that I’m playing through a weird and wonderful combination of cabinets and amps, with an arsenal of outrageous effects applied, making me sound like Steve Hillage meets Jeff Beck.
This is fun, but not exactly productive. I know too many effects, or indeed ANY effects would disabuse the Folk buying public. Then like Jock hearing a voice from above, a heavenly timbre spoke in my ear.
“Sod ‘em”, it said, succinctly.
And it was right too, gone are the days when I had to worry to much about our stuff going down in folk clubs, as we now play for …
… different audiences.
So the lead guitar effect is the one I like and think works. It sounds a bit like a Gibson 335 SL, and works quite nicely.
This week we played for a History Society in Northumberland – about 50 people at that one, then a Guides Fundraiser, 45 at that one. The last U3A we did was about 100, so I’m very happy that people are hearing the music – and judging by CD sales, enjoying it too.
Which is why, I need to get on and get mixing.
And so as the final slider of justice is applied to the fade out of destiny and reveals the nasty hiss of fate, I notice that it is the end of this blog.
Until next time Acoustic Chums
 It may not look like it, but it does happen.
 Nothing like airs and graces is there?
 Chance would be a fine thing…
 See, told you it was proof-read; “You can’t say that”, she told me…