Tuesday 23rd June 2009

I was given a tune book recently. Some kind soul knew of my interest in Folk Music and had found a small book entitled 'Folk Tunes' Book 1 for solo descant recorder copyright 1946. Yes, there is a book 2 and book 3.

Oh how things have changed thank goodness.

What was the idea of a folk tune in 1946? Well here is a list of things to play in a 1946 session (no, they didn't really exist then AFAIK).

• Ash Grove
• The Bailiff's Daughter of Islington
• Billy Boy
• Charlie is my darling
• Cockles and Mussels
• Early one morning
• God Save the Queen. (As a folk tune !?!)
• Greensleeves (must crop up in every folk collection)
• The Harp that once thro'Tara's Halls
• Lass of Richmond Hill
• My Love's an Arbutus (a plant as far as I can tell!)
  
• On Ilkley Moor bah't 'at
• O Shenandoah
• Robin Adair
• Star-spangled Banner
• Swing Low Sweet Chariot
• When Johnny Comes marching home
• Ye Mariners of England.

It is a characteristic of this time that American, often Civil War tunes were mixed quite casually with the Irish, Welsh, Scottish and English ballads of the day. Folk was a different world which transcended national boundaries but somehow still got lumped together. I still can't believe that some of them were 'classified' as folk.

Just a taster from Books 2 and 3:

Amongst quite respectable tunes such as Keel Row and the Lincolnshire Poacher are Rule Britannia, Yankee Doodle, Go Down Moses and Jeannie with the light brown hair. I think it's stretching it a bit to put those down as 'Folk'.

I'm glad things have changed but it does make you wonder if folk should be classified and categorised and pigeon-holed at all. Maybe someone will look back on the last 40 years and exclaim 'What were they thinking!".

Wednesday 10 June 2009

It has been a long time since St George's day which was the last post to the diary. What has happened since then? Well it's a case of same old, same old I'm afraid but there are some observations which might be pertinent.

I know there are some regular readers who eagerly await the next entry but it gets harder and harder to write for two reasons. The main one of these is that more people read the diary so there is a much greater risk of upsetting somebody! Shelagh suggested writing a new one which was entirely fictitious but closely modelled reality, changing names to protect the guilty. It's tempting.

First observation then: the Irish Session still struggles to achieve critical mass for regular sessions, but there was a good turn out for a Sunday Session at the Unicorn at Bekesbourne. Not only were some of the old George crowd there, but a couple came all the way from Battle to join us. The pub is advertising Folk and a BBQ every Sunday. Whether this is genuine love of the genre or a way of attracting punters, I know not but it is a nice venue and we wish it every success.

Second: An old rant, but sessioneers play in sessions, singers go to folk club. In the words of the famous Alexander Orloff, Simples!

So why do singers turn up to sessions and take up valuable playing time? This is a genuine question, because they do.

Not that their output is unworthy of an audience, it is just a case of propriety.

Not that the individuals aren't nice people - they are. It's just a question of what that line is in the sand of folk that delineates one type of activity from another.

Maybe sessions are an entirely Irish concept and in England a session is a general folk gathering. Maybe it's to do with the concept of what the gathering is in the mind of the leader. Some like songs, some don't.

Then there is the idea of the clan. That is a small community of folk minded people who travel together as an entity. If there is a session, you get the singers, poets, jugglers, worriers and audience thrown in. But it's the same for a folk club, open mic etc. - the whole shebang work as a whole. Come one come all. Or a permanent BOGOF offer. This is probably essential in a small community to keep the music and song alive but not so essential in a richer environment.

Or perhaps it's a confidence thing. Maybe some singers are more confident singing in a session environment rather than in front of an audience.

Now most sessions can be enlivened by an occasional song and many musicians sing an occasional song in both the Irish and English session. But I hate it when the singers (who only sing) compete with musicians for spots so it becomes a competition. I just want to go and play music.

There is one other small problem as well. If you have a good session going with the right pace and drive, a song can kill that mood instantly and ruin the 'groove' for want of a better word. There are some who go as far as suggesting that some kinds of music do the same - like trying to get back into reels and jigs if someone plays a slow air or a waltz.

Life isn't easy being a sessioneer.

Friday, April 24th 2009

The day after St George's Day. I hope you all celebrated. I hope you all celebrated as well as we did in the back bar of the Bear!

After many years of us saying 'wouldn't it be good to do something...', Mike and Ruth organised a worthy celebration with England flags, English tunes and songs, English Ale and Roast Beef Baps. It was a splendid do, better than the successful Burn's night. Probably because we are English and not Scottish.

There was every element of Englishness from the pride of knowing that you're English to the saucy seaside humour of the Carry On films. Given that Ruth, Barbara and Heather dressed in a very appropriate serving-wench-cum-national-costumes and then handed out Roast Beef Baps or carried Jugs of Ale it is not surprising that 'Would you like one of my delicious baps, kind sir?" was greeted with "Yes, and send me the girl with the large jugs if you will". More good natured banter ensued on that theme.

Nearly every cliche of Englishness was unashamedly exploited. Hoorah! Huzzar!

The tunes were supposed to be English only but a couple of Irish and a Scottish crept under the wire. The singing was truly eclectic and much helped by a guest - Robert Brown.
Ably helping the singing were regulars Heather, Richard, Barbara, Chris and Rod, and a return visit from Gavin who came into it unaware of what was planned. The assembled multitude joined in with gusto and varying degrees of success. A group of Geordies expressed their appreciation by singing Bladon Races. Properly. You could imagine walking down Northumberland Street on a Saturday afternoon and diving into Fenwick's as the football crowd came down the road singing. Why Aye Man.










A sample of the songs:-

• Three Drunken Maidens
• Yarmouth Town
• All around my hat*
• Lola
• Jerusalem
• Drink Old England Dry
• Dedicated Follower of Fashion
• The Doh-a-beer song**
• Nutting Girl
• The English, the English, the English are best. (I'm not sure that one was wise but no one exacted terrible revenge.)
• Geordie's lost his Penker***
  

* With a last chorus of:

All around my hat, I will wear the green willow
All around my hat for a twelvemonth and a day
And if anyone should ask me, the reason why I'm wearing it,
It's my f***ing hat, and I'll wear what I like!

Thank you Lizzy.

**
Doh, a beer, a Mexican Beer
Ray, a man who buys me beer
Me, a man I buy beer for
Fah, a long way to the bar
So, I'll have another beer
La,la,la,la,la,la,la
Te, No thanks I'll have a beer

That will bring us back to ...

Thank you Chris. Yours predates the Simpson creation.


***

Not what you might think. It's his marble. Opinion is divided whether he lost it 'doon the netty' (down the toilet) or 'doon the Koondy' (drain). At any rate, it was in his pocket all the bloody time.