Free Evening - Friday 6th August

We anticipate that the absences of Dogsbody, Minister-without-Portfolio and our Token Sensible Person on Friday 6th August will attract a huge and near-unmanageable turn-out from the remaining regulars, (and possibly others if we publicise this widely.)

David has had this wonderful idea ...

There will be no pot collection on that evening, thus enhancing his personal popularity at the cost of absentees.
David goes on to suggest that  "... we shall then light torches, burst forth and sack Chichester ..."

I'm not sure that's quite such a good idea!

One Of The Club Highlights From 16/07/10

Mick and Paul perform The Beatles' 'Norwegian Wood':

Gone man, solid gone...

Whip Jamboree

Here's a 'joiny-inny' number we could include in CFC's Song Book ...

Whip Jamboree

Whip Jamboree, whip Jamboree!
You pig-tailed sailors, hanging down behind.
Whip Jamboree, whip Jamboree!
Jenny get your oatcakes done.

 Now me lads be of good cheer,
To the lrish coast we’ll soon draw near.
Then we’ll set a course for old Cape Clear.
Jenny get your oatcakes done.

Whip Jamboree …

And now Cape Clear it is in sight,
We’ll be off Holyhead by tomorrow night,
And we’ll steer a course for the old Rock Light.
Jenny get your oatcakes done.

Whip Jamboree …

And now me lads we’re off Holyhead,
No more salt beef or weevily bread,
One man in the chains for to heave the lead.
Jenny get your oatcakes done.

Whip Jamboree …

And next we’re rounding Fort Perch Rock,
All hammocks lashed and all chests locked.
We’ll haul her into Waterloo Dock.
Jenny get your oatcakes done.

Whip Jamboree …

And now, me lads, we’re all in dock.
We’ll be off to Dan Lowry’s on the spot,
And there we’ll shop a big pint pot.
Jenny get your oatcakes done.

Whip Jamboree ...

This will be performed a capella, (my thanks to MwP for telling me how to spell that!)
The first ‘whip’ in lines 1 and 3 of the chorus are 'ejaculated', rather than sung.

There are several variants of this musical aid for illiterate navigators of the Irish Sea. A particularly interesting one has in the chorus – You long-tailed black man, poke it up behind. I think that's better avoided, even if it is simply an archaic and innocent nautical metaphor. (Citation needed.)

Here's my Manx YouTube friend with his rendition.
This man has a wide repertoire, well worth exploring.

Santiano - (more like this, please ...)

Friday 9th was a well-attended and memorable evening of quality music, not least because Roland and Angela brought along some charming French visitors. I resisted the temptation to sing Drink Old England Dry.

Anne-Marie, assisted by Claire and Beatrice, with some delightful counterpoint from Angela, sang Santiano.
Roland generously distributed text for the chorus.
Despite our appalling accents, we all expectorated 'hiss et ho' with great enthusiasm.
Here it is ...

(Chorus)

Tiens bon la vague et tiens bon le vent.

Hiss et ho, Santiano!

Si Dieu veut toujours droit devant,

Nous irons jusqu’a San Francisco.

(Last chorus)

Tiens bon la vague et tiens bon le vent.

Hiss et ho, Santiano!

Sur la mer qui fait le gros dos,

Nous irons jusqu’a San Francisco.

It was so good, I felt it worthy of preservation on the blog.
There are a few renditions on YouTube; click on this one, it's got lyrics: Santiano - Hugues Aufray.
Those who have a penchant for peroxide-blonde males wearing skirts and silver tights might prefer to look at Hugues Aufray/Tri Yann.

(Now, I must go out and buy that bombarde!)

The Hen's March To The Midden. A Stern Warning.

I have been fascinated by the tune title 'The Hen's March To The Midden' (or any variant on this journey).
I did a YouTube search and found this:


This what can happen to people who end up taking folk-music far to seriously.
I laughed till I was sat in a puddle.

Being the 9th of July 2010.

In The Smoke: David
Greenland Whale Fisheries: Colin/Bill
Stars Fell On Alabama Last Night: George/Paul
St. Louis Tickle: Mick
Say, Old Man: The Stoney Ridge Band
The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face: Margaret
Santiano! : Beatrice/Claire/Anne Marie/Angela
Chawin' Chewin' Gum: Angela
Rocky Top: Roland/Angela/Ken
A British Man o'War: Bob
William Bloat: Ken
The Callico Printer's Clerk: Mave
The Lark In The Morning: Jenny
When Adam Was First Created: Bill 1:1/Colin
Hush-a-by Mountain: Lynda
I'm Only Sleeping: Paul
It Must Be True: David
Twa Corbies: Colin
It Ain't Me Babe: Margaret
Paper Moon: George
Jer The Rigger: Mick
Cripple Creek/Old Joe Clark/Dinah: The Stoney Ridge Band
?: Beatrice/Claire
No Telephone In Heaven: Angela/Roland/Paul
Oh, Champs Elysees: Anne-Marie
When The Moon Steps On Tiptoe: Bob
Henry Martin: Ken
Cathy's Song: Lynda/Mick
Heart Beat: Paul
All For My Grog: The Stoney Ridge Band

Being the 2nd of July 2010

Everything Is Fine: David
Farewell to Tarwaihie: Colin
Now Is The Cool Of The Day: Mave
Grey Hawk: Ken
A Woman Is A Sometime Thing: Maggie
The Swimming Song: Mike P.
Verdi Cried: Jane
She's Like A Swan: Lynda
Seashore: Mick
Can't Weld A Body: Anne
Diamonds In The Rough: Angela/Roland
Corrina Corrina: Roland
Wicked Gander/The Hen's March Across The Miden: Bill 1:1
If I Were A Carpenter: Paul
A Tree Song: Colin
That Daring Young Man On The Flying Trapeze: Mave
Indian Lass: Ken
The Last Thing On My Mind: Maggie
I'm A Dreamer: Mike P.
Banks Of The Ohio: Phine
Song To The Siren: Jane/David
Most Of Us: Lynda
Itzkel: Mick/Mike P.
The Last House On The Street: Anne
Galway Shawl: Bill 1:1
Haul Away: Paul

Being the 25th Day Of June 2010.

I'm Throwing Rice: David
Steal Away: Paul
Take A Message To Mary: Lucy/Paul
I Loved A Lass: Mave
I'm So Afraid of Losing You Again: Phine
The Boulie House Jig/The Butterfly: Mick
Fond Affection: Angela/Roland
Gin You Kiss My Wife I'll Tell The Minister: Bill 1:1
I'm A Poor Wayfaring Stranger: Colin
Matty Groves: David
I'll Be There: Paul
I Know Where I'm Going: Lucy
The Deserter: Bill 1:1
Buddy Can You Spare A Dime: Roger
The Boy I Love Is Up In The Gallery: Mave
Love Changes Everything: Phine
The Black Fox: Mick
Engine 143: Angela
Lonesome Valley: Roland
White Cockade: Colin
The Stars In Your Eyes: David
Moon Shadow: Paul
Devoted To You: Lucy/Paul
Dream River: Roger/Lucy
Let's Keep It That Way: Phine
Cripple Creek Ferry: Mick
Wildwood Flower: Angela/Roland
The Parting Glass: Colin+Full Cast

Memoirs of a Folk-Song Collector in Rural England

Miss de Hyde has arrived at Lingham Peveril in search of rustic folk songs.

The next morning, I made my way up to Turmut-top Farm, where I hoped to meet some of the rustics who worked there. From these, I hoped, if not to obtain some songs directly, then at least to gain introduction to such of their fellows who might be able to furnish me with the objects of my quest. I was greeted at the entrance to the farm by a ruddy-faced man in a leather jerkin, who hailed me thus: “What the fizzing blue blazes dost thee want here, then?”. Squire Charlesworth, the owner of the farm, for it was he, on my introducing myself and my purpose, became almost conciliatory, exhorting me to roam his property at my will, only to avoid disturbing his hands at their work, for there was much to be done at this time of year in the fields and barns. Apparently, they were likely to be unoccupied with their labours in the of necessity brief luncheon period, and, though it was obvious the Squire regretted it, during the hours of darkness also. During this discourse, the Squire’s large retriever had taken to nuzzling me quite enthusiastically, and I was glad that I had decided to wear my strongest britches under my petticoats.
(to be continued)

Aids to Memory ...

In the past I have attended folk clubs where the use of paper was frowned upon.
The idea was, “If the song is worth singing, then commit it to memory before you perform it!”
I used to share that opinion, but read on ...

At CFC we regularly see enthusiastic participants come along armed with great ring-binders full of musical material that must have taken decades to amass. I am full of admiration.
We have one performer who regularly scrolls through a hand-held computer to find the words. Once we witnessed someone who sang from text saved on a mobile phone. On another occasion a performer even sang while accompanying himself by music reproduced by such an invention of the evil one. That was novel, and amusing!

In youth I would have scorned such activity as being 'unauthentic', but age has tempered that opinion.

Oh, how frail we become; how transient those neurones, ganglia and synapses!
Along with my eligibility for a bus-pass, the persistence of memory has become a myth - nothing more than a surrealist painting, of great value, by some Catalan guy whose name I've already forgotten.

So, if you need paper, by all means bring it. After all, that’s why we provide a music stand. However, the club has no intention of supplying computers and portable communication devices for all to use.

A word of advice here, from my own limited experience ...
If you’re going to perform from memory, shut the book or leave the paper at home.
Just 'go for it'!
If you need to resort to paper, or other aids to recollection, that’s fine. Rely on it, because you know that you transcribed it in a rare interval of sobriety. Concentrate on in throughout your performance.
So often have I come along with a piece of paper that I regard as a 'safety net', then thought, “I know this!”
Such self-confidence is always misplaced. I hit the ‘block’. My cortical neuro-transmitting chemicals fail.
I go back to the paper. (Now where did I put it?)
I search my pockets for my mobile phone, only to discover I've brought the TV remote control instead. (That'll sabotage Jane's viewing of Eastenders!)
Then I realise I’ve left my spectacles at home. (Anyway, where was I in that text?!)

Oh, this folk-singing thing is such a hazardous undertaking!