Wednesday June 9th 2010
Should anyone be in any doubt about the rather special nature of Blues at Green Note, and certainly its differentness from other musical events, there’s just one word that needs to be said to them: washboard. Yep, Dave Johnson, getting right under the skin of the event, showed up with one and it got a good outing throughout the evening. It was in pristine nick, suggesting that they are made and sold as musical instruments, which I guess I hadn’t known. Well, they’d hardly be sold as domestic products, I suppose.
Dave got right on with playing it in my opening set, as well as playing conga with me and the rest of the house band – Charles on double bass, Ryan on mandolin, Will on harmonica, Martin on drum and Dave Forristal on keyboards. Yes, that makes 7 people and some largish musical instruments all crammed more or less on the Green Note stage, which is approximately the size of the balcony of a studio flat. This, it must be assumed, is testimony to the svelte nature of said musicians, a result obviously of the peak physical fitness they maintain and their constant workouts. If there were just one or two beer guts among them, the whole evening would be torpedoed.
Well, this did answer a question I’d pondered before – what would happen if all band members showed up on the one night? Well, now we know. Magically, they are all able to play together. Charles may have had to get a bit too close for comfort to his bass, Ryan may have had one knee in his ear, and the washboard may have put itself in places it shouldn’t, but we managed. And managed to kick off what was generally regarded as possibly the best night musically so far.
About the right number of people showed up to do sets and there was a decent, and as usual, receptive audience. I started off, with this extraordinary seven-piece band, and did a few songs, mostly from the CD I’ve just put out. If there is actually anywhere else at all on the planet where that particular line-up can be seen, let alone joined, then I would be very surprised.
Owen Houlston was up next, with selected band members, and he kicked up quite a storm with what was a very popular set. Dave was giving that washboard some serious gyp at this point, and there was a moment in the last number when the ensemble was doing a pretty surreal kind of skiffle. Personally, I’ve always felt that skiffle was better as an idea than as a reality, but this wasn’t really skiffle as we know it. It was more like what Captain Beefheart might have come up with if only he’d done a washboard album, which is to say it was the kind of skiffle that would be considered good therapy for the patients on a psychiatric ward.
Phil Hughes got up and did his stunning solo thing next, the room totally silent as he did his a cappella and harp numbers, including a version of Skip James’ Hard Time Killing Floor Blues, a song so great that a thousand totally different versions of it could be done. No nattering while Phil was on.
Barry Jackson followed him, again with various band members for a set so laid-back it should be in the training video for Laid-Back Music-Making. Barry was playing a rather nice Guild, and some of us are now getting so old that we’ve seen Barry play some of his extensive collection of guitars at least twice.
Dave Johnson did his own set next, accompanied on slide by Barry Jackson, and the two of them gelled really well, very firmly in the category of ‘it sounds like they must have rehearsed this quite a lot’ – we like to think just about everything we do on these nights is in that category.
Then it was Graham Hinton, with selected band members for another fine set of his now familiar numbers, delivered with the usual polish. The washboard was now taking a well-earned rest, having made its point, but another first for the event was about to be unleashed, in the shape of a baritone sax, played by Robert.
The arrival of this monster created something of a stir, especially as it looked as if it could only be played by means of a complex pulley system. There was also discussion of which keys it would be prepared to co-operate with, as if it needed to be pacified. Having settled that issue, Robert got up with me and the vast majority of the band for a couple more of my numbers. The baritone fitted right in, and yet another interesting combination of instruments was formed – this of course is one of the main points and great joys of the event.
Another impromptu combo was then formed for the evening’s final set – Ryan on guitar and vocal, Will on harp and Robert on baritone sax. A whole new set of moods was established, from the atmospheric slow opener, with Ryan’s sweet (in the best sense of the word) vocal sound complemented wonderfully by the harp and sax, to the final audience-participation song, which drew even more enthusiastic than usual participation from the audience. With this, the entertainment ended on a high.
A washboard and a baritone sax? A six-piece house band for people to choose from? An array of musical combinations and styles? Top-class musicians in a terrific venue? A listening audience? As the Cockney comedian Tommy Trinder’s catchphrase went: ‘You lucky people!’
Next time: Wednesday 14th July
Mark Harrison
NEXT JAM: WEDNESDAY 9 JUNE
Wednesday May 12th 2010
The ‘house band’ at Blues at Green Note is quite a luxury item. Where else can you turn up and expect to be able to add your talents to an array that may include all or some of the following: mandolin, double bass, keyboards, harmonica, and a three-piece drums and percussion section? What’s more, where else can you get up and say that you’re going to do something that isn’t a 12-bar, without house band members pulling faces as if someone has just waved a freshly minted turd under their noses?
We have, I think most people would agree, a pretty good and in my experience unique thing going musically at the Green Note. And the above are the reasons why. In fact, such is the core of excellent and varied musicians on hand for people to play with that we were on this occasion able to manage with three men down and still produce a fine evening of varied music. For various reasons, Dave, Charles and Martin couldn’t make it, but there was still a wide variety of instrumental combinations on display.
Quite what will happen if all the above mentioned musicians show up on the same night is anybody’s guess. So far, we’ve not had quite the full complement on stage at the same time (with such numbers, someone is more or less bound not to be there). The full band would number something like eight people, and include some rather large instruments (oh, Matron!). This raises the spectre of musicians having to be off stage and blocking the way to and from the loo. Any advice on handling the repercussions of that will be welcome.
Anyway, we had a decent turnout and just about the ideal number of sets to make for a pretty relaxed evening. I kicked off with a slightly longer than usual opening set as Will couldn’t stay long and so I did all my stuff straight away. I played the National and the 12-string, and in addition to Will, was joined by Ryan on mando and Mick and Dave on percussion.
There were 8 more sets. Justin popped in to do one number on his own first up and Phil followed him, playing both solo and with percussion for some excellent pre-war acoustic numbers. He was followed by Simon with a typically rumbustious set. He had brought harmonica player Leroy with him, who he introduced as ‘the worst harmonica player in London’. Needless to say, Leroy was very good.
Ryan got up next for his own set, taking time out from the house band. For this he was joined by David, who gave a debut to his new dobro, played lap-slide way. We get quite a few ‘firsts’ at this event (how long till the eagerly awaited first appearance of a washboard, for example?) and this was perhaps the best so far. Those there would agree that David’s dobro playing in combination with Ryan was a highlight.
Mick and Dave did their guitar-and-harmonica set next – they always choose really good material and deliver it with polish. Julian followed them, playing in a folkier style on some sort of electronic guitar (exactly what it was did get explained to me but I have been unable to retain the precise information). Anyway, it sounded good and, in combination with various house band musicians, contributed something quite different to the evening.
Next up came Paul and Chris, doing their own material, their set also involving very effective use of one of those drum/box things you sit on and play by hand (another bit of gear ignorance there on my part, sorry). Their stuff comes across really well. The evening was then rounded off by regular James Daniel on vocals and harp, joined by the house band. James is always good.
So there you have it for another month. Another good one, enjoyed by all those present. No photos this time – anyone is welcome to take them and send them to me for any of the events by the way.
We’re getting decent turnouts but would always welcome more audience members. Now, if everyone brought two friends to see them play, we could pack the place out and make for an even better atmosphere when you’re playing ......
Finally, I might have my CD ready by the next one. At the moment it’s still delayed at the printers, who appear to be marginally slower than Caxton. But anyway, it includes songs and musicians familiar to regulars at Blues at Green Note and it’s called Watching The Parade.
Next one Wednesday June 9th.
Mark Harrison
Wednesday May 12th 2010
The ‘house band’ at Blues at Green Note is quite a luxury item. Where else can you turn up and expect to be able to add your talents to an array that may include all or some of the following: mandolin, double bass, keyboards, harmonica, and a three-piece drums and percussion section? What’s more, where else can you get up and say that you’re going to do something that isn’t a 12-bar, without house band members pulling faces as if someone has just waved a freshly minted turd under their noses?
We have, I think most people would agree, a pretty good and in my experience unique thing going musically at the Green Note. And the above are the reasons why. In fact, such is the core of excellent and varied musicians on hand for people to play with that we were on this occasion able to manage with three men down and still produce a fine evening of varied music. For various reasons, Dave, Charles and Martin couldn’t make it, but there was still a wide variety of instrumental combinations on display.
Quite what will happen if all the above mentioned musicians show up on the same night is anybody’s guess. So far, we’ve not had quite the full complement on stage at the same time (with such numbers, someone is more or less bound not to be there). The full band would number something like eight people, and include some rather large instruments (oh, Matron!). This raises the spectre of musicians having to be off stage and blocking the way to and from the loo. Any advice on handling the repercussions of that will be welcome.
Anyway, we had a decent turnout and just about the ideal number of sets to make for a pretty relaxed evening. I kicked off with a slightly longer than usual opening set as Will couldn’t stay long and so I did all my stuff straight away. I played the National and the 12-string, and in addition to Will, was joined by Ryan on mando and Mick and Dave on percussion.
There were 8 more sets. Justin popped in to do one number on his own first up and Phil followed him, playing both solo and with percussion for some excellent pre-war acoustic numbers. He was followed by Simon with a typically rumbustious set. He had brought harmonica player Leroy with him, who he introduced as ‘the worst harmonica player in London’. Needless to say, Leroy was very good.
Ryan got up next for his own set, taking time out from the house band. For this he was joined by David, who gave a debut to his new dobro, played lap-slide way. We get quite a few ‘firsts’ at this event (how long till the eagerly awaited first appearance of a washboard, for example?) and this was perhaps the best so far. Those there would agree that David’s dobro playing in combination with Ryan was a highlight.
Mick and Dave did their guitar-and-harmonica set next – they always choose really good material and deliver it with polish. Julian followed them, playing in a folkier style on some sort of electronic guitar (exactly what it was did get explained to me but I have been unable to retain the precise information). Anyway, it sounded good and, in combination with various house band musicians, contributed something quite different to the evening.
Next up came Paul and Chris, doing their own material, their set also involving very effective use of one of those drum/box things you sit on and play by hand (another bit of gear ignorance there on my part, sorry). Their stuff comes across really well. The evening was then rounded off by regular James Daniel on vocals and harp, joined by the house band. James is always good.
So there you have it for another month. Another good one, enjoyed by all those present. No photos this time – anyone is welcome to take them and send them to me for any of the events by the way.
We’re getting decent turnouts but would always welcome more audience members. Now, if everyone brought two friends to see them play, we could pack the place out and make for an even better atmosphere when you’re playing ......
Finally, I might have my CD ready by the next one. At the moment it’s still delayed at the printers, who appear to be marginally slower than Caxton. But anyway, it includes songs and musicians familiar to regulars at Blues at Green Note and it’s called Watching The Parade.
Next one Wednesday June 9th.
Mark Harrison
NEXT JAM: WEDNESDAY 12TH MAY
Running a jam is an interesting thing to do. It can be an oddly high-intensity thing, with all sorts of people and their needs and wishes to be accommodated over a pretty short space of time. To do it well requires the sort of management and people skills that are normally associated with fat-cat bonus scandals in major corporations. Perhaps some of the newer universities should be running degrees in Jam Running Skills. Graduates of these courses would all be knocking themselves out to emulate Niall Kelly, the doyen of jam runners in my experience, and discovering that his lines are mysteriously only funny when he utters them.
At the same time as getting everyone who’s come to play onto the stage, a decent jam host is trying to make sure that all the musicians get to enjoy themselves as much as possible. Even this isn’t always simple – you have to keep an eye on timing, hoping someone doesn’t go on for too long so that it’s hard to fit everyone in. Plus you’re trying to get combinations of musicians that will work and mean that every set sounds OK (and that at least some even sound brilliant).
I kicked off as usual and started with a solo instrumental. Then I was joined by Charles Benfield on double bass, Ryan Carr on mandolin, Will Greener on harmonica, Martin Holloway on drum, and Mick and Dave on percussion for two of my originals – Big Mary’s House and Hard Work. The three-piece percussion section sounded pretty damn good from where I was, and added a whole new dimension to the evening in general.
Next up was Barry Jackson for another solid set, the house band slotting in very nicely with Barry’s polished delivery. I’ve said quite a bit about Barry’s sets over the past few months and there’s nothing new to add here – it was high-quality business as usual.
Green Note, 106 Parkway, Camden. London N1 7AN
Wednesday April 14th 2010
Photos by Andy Hall
Running a jam is an interesting thing to do. It can be an oddly high-intensity thing, with all sorts of people and their needs and wishes to be accommodated over a pretty short space of time. To do it well requires the sort of management and people skills that are normally associated with fat-cat bonus scandals in major corporations. Perhaps some of the newer universities should be running degrees in Jam Running Skills. Graduates of these courses would all be knocking themselves out to emulate Niall Kelly, the doyen of jam runners in my experience, and discovering that his lines are mysteriously only funny when he utters them.
Actually, there are other analogies between this music thing and corporate life. How far up the executive ladder would Muddy Waters have got, for example, if he’d been given a shot at it and had had the inclination to pursue it? The leadership, the people skills, those things now called ‘vision’ and ‘emotional intelligence’ and the like – he had the lot. They should be doing his band as a case study on MBA programmes, and if they did, the calibre of management in this country might shoot up from subterranean to something approaching efficient.
I’m not of course making any claims for myself here – I’m just a civilian who does this once a month. But that experience shows me just what goes into being really good at running jams on a regular basis. So what does the job description include and what exactly does running a jam involve?
It is tempting to think that when you run a jam all human nature is laid before you, but this is not strictly true. As one mainstay harp player once observed to me outside a jam, the proportion of arseholes on the blues jam scene is extremely low in comparison to the number of them in the populace in general. It’s true that one might encounter the odd ‘difficult’ person, and the odd straight down the line prat, but these are very much the exception. And whenever they appear, everyone else closes ranks and mutters about them and makes damn sure they remain the exception.
With just about every electric jam, the set-up is that musicians have little or no say in who they play with. It’s of course true that regulars at various jams may be able to request musicians to play with, and may even get what could be regarded as preferential treatment – right and proper if you’re a regular I’d say. But even this isn’t always the case, because the jam host’s primary role is to make sure that everyone gets a go. And so the norm is that musicians wait for their name to be called out and they don’t know who they’re going to play with until that moment.
This event has tended to differ from the norm in that regard. Because it’s an acoustic event and not awash with guitar slingers, the attempt has been to ask the person leading a set who they’d like to play with and let them choose the ensemble for their set. However, it isn’t always possible to do this all the time, especially when a number of instrumentalists show up, and isn’t a cast-iron guarantee. So sometimes people play with who they’re put with, and the busier the evening, the more likely this is.
At the same time as getting everyone who’s come to play onto the stage, a decent jam host is trying to make sure that all the musicians get to enjoy themselves as much as possible. Even this isn’t always simple – you have to keep an eye on timing, hoping someone doesn’t go on for too long so that it’s hard to fit everyone in. Plus you’re trying to get combinations of musicians that will work and mean that every set sounds OK (and that at least some even sound brilliant).
Which brings you to the audience, who actually aren’t by any means at the bottom of a jam host’s list. At the Green Note, for example, the primary aim is to serve up an excellent evening of varied music for the people who have come to listen. This is of course largely dependent on who shows up to play and I’d say we’ve managed it every time, proving that there’s no shortage of really good acoustic musicians in a wide variety of styles in London (and visiting).
This time was no exception. It was a pretty busy evening, and another very good one indeed, with a good turnout of musicians and audience. It was characterised by two firsts – the first appearance on congas, bongos and other percussion of Mick Paley and Dave Johnson, and the large number of newcomers to the event aside from them who played. As Seasick Steve has been saying remorselessly for the last couple of years ‘It’s all good’.
I kicked off as usual and started with a solo instrumental. Then I was joined by Charles Benfield on double bass, Ryan Carr on mandolin, Will Greener on harmonica, Martin Holloway on drum, and Mick and Dave on percussion for two of my originals – Big Mary’s House and Hard Work. The three-piece percussion section sounded pretty damn good from where I was, and added a whole new dimension to the evening in general.
Next up was Barry Jackson for another solid set, the house band slotting in very nicely with Barry’s polished delivery. I’ve said quite a bit about Barry’s sets over the past few months and there’s nothing new to add here – it was high-quality business as usual.
Phil Hughes was next, a welcome first visit to the event from this highly respected and well-established London blues artist. The room got quiet and put its full attention on Phil’s two solo a cappella voice and harp numbers – the original Sonny Boy Williamson’s Welfare Store Blues and a Tom Waits number whose title escapes me. Several people had told me about Phil’s solo set before but I hadn’t seen it; now I could see what they were raving about, and it was certainly a highlight of what was another excellent and varied evening.
Then came Marsha Mellow, another newcomer to the event. She was accompanied by Danno Sheehan on harp, Phil on acoustic bass, and the percussion section. Danno was to the fore in this set, on what was becoming something of a harp fest, and the whole thing came together as a decent ensemble.
Mick & Dave did their own set next, Mick on harp and vocal, Dave on guitar and vocal. Their electric sets at other jams are always excellent – varied, nice choice of material, interest in playing as a band rather than endless loud soloing. Accompanied by Charles and Martin, they did a fine set that was exactly in keeping with the spirit of this event. Fine musicians both, they fitted right in.
Julian, another first-timer at this jam, then got up and did a couple of solo instrumentals that added further variety to what was on offer during course of the evening. His set included Angi, the seminal Davey Graham piece that could truthfully be said to have changed the face of English folk music, and certainly folk guitar playing. The audience got quiet, keen to hear the something different he was doing. This people listening thing is one of the many good aspects of the Green Note as a venue.
Will Greener got up for his own set next, starting off with an excellent voice and harp solo piece that had the audience’s full attention and went down extremely well. It was delivered with Will’s trademark compelling style, and followed by an equally compelling duo number with Phil on acoustic bass. Ever up for spontaneity and thinking of interesting combinations, Will does just what this event is about, trying out new things on the spur of the moment and making them happen with total success. This voice, harp and bass combination rightly went down really well too, everyone sucked into the atmosphere created.
I got back up with the full band then and did some more of my own numbers – Sneaking Away, Highgate Hill Blues, Early In The Morning and Easy Does It. Well, everyone else had had their go by then, apart from .....
Laine Hines, good friend of Blues at Green Note but sadly not able to come and play all that often due to other commitments. But he showed up for the last slot, this time bringing with him some gizmo that distorted the guitar and vocal sound to emulate the authentic sound of pre-war acoustic blues recordings. It was very effective and Laine again showed why he’s one of the most interesting acoustic artists around, as well as almost certainly the best performer of this brand of acoustic blues in London.
So all was well. The Green Note, as we have observed before, is a terrific place for an event such as this. The people who run it (Immy, Risa) and the people who work there like the event and are very supportive and helpful when it’s on. This is another way in which it differs from some (though by no means all) jams, where the beleaguered soul running it is battling against venue management who seem to think an event they requested in the first place is an annoying inconvenience. So running this is a perfectly pleasant thing to do.
Nevertheless, on a busy one it’s possible for me to see just what goes into running ‘normal’ electric jams well, and fills me with admiration for the people who do that. It may look effortless to most people who are there, but they’re like the proverbial duck - paddling like hell under the surface. And utilising an exceptional set of skills that could earn them fortunes in other walks of life.
So there you have it – blues jam hosts and band leaders in key executive positions, in the Cabinet, heading up corporations, running the show. That would bring about a real recovery in this bankrupt, shoddily-run country, I reckon. If Niall Kelly ran for high office, he’d be a shoo-in, I’d say.
Spare a thought for the next political party canvasser who rings my doorbell.
Mark Harrison
Mark Harrison
Wednesday March 10th 2010
Before we started playing, some very nice people asked me about the history of this kind of music and I tried to tell them as briefly as possible something about acoustic blues. It occurs to me that this might be something worth doing on this blog, as it’s wrong to assume that everyone who comes, or indeed everyone who plays, necessarily knows a huge amount about the subject.
Add to this the fact that it’s come to my attention since I got involved in all this after a lengthy hiatus that a number of people think that ‘blues’ automatically means formulaic electric music with lengthy loud guitar solos. So I’m going to attempt a potted history. Musicologists and ethnomusicologists need not leave comments about the yawning gaps in this, or its oversimplification. So here goes.
The music known as ‘blues’ really began in the first decade of the 20th century. People in the rural parts of a couple of southern US states, principally Mississippi, performed for the entertainment of the locals on plantations and in towns and cities. Their repertoire consisted of their own takes on various songs, including work songs and field hollers sung while working in the fields and while in prison work gangs. The songs contained elements of all sorts of what we might now call folk music, country music, ragtime and spirituals. Learned people have written books about how African influences exist in the scales and general feel of the music.
Along came recording, for the story of popular music evolves alongside the arrival of ‘gear’. In the 1920s, the newly formed record companies decided there was a market for the music these people were doing, and they sent people out into the rural areas to record them, often in hotel rooms. These records were marketed as ‘race records’ – they were cheap, available in local stores and aimed solely at black people. Through the 1920s and 1930s, the ‘great names’ of the blues recorded, often prolifically. For one reason or another, some are better known to us now than others. The Premier League of this period consists of Charley Patton (probably the first ‘bluesman’), Son House, Blind Lemon Jefferson, Skip James, Blind Blake, Mississippi John Hurt, Blind Willie McTell, Sleepy John Estes, Blind Willie Johnson and of course Robert Johnson, among others. If you don’t possess music by all of these, you need to rectify that error sharpish.
These pioneers weren’t wedded to the 12-bar pattern by any means. It evolved fairly early in proceedings, but was by no means followed rigidly by these artists. A lot of their repertoire was based around the I, IV, V three-chord menu, but there was considerable variety in how they used this, and plenty of material following the more complex patterns of ragtime.
It is worth pointing out too that none of these people were remotely famous by any serious definition of that word. They eked out a living playing on street corners or at local parties in juke joints or at fish fries. They were itinerant, roaming the area playing from place to place and living on their wits. There were no venues to hustle gigs at for this kind of musician, and nothing resembling session work. The action, and the greater fame, lay in a whole other thing known as blues at the time, which tended to involve female singers, big bands with jazz-type arrangements and something resembling hit records. The solo male bluesman, travelling around, recording for nickels and dimes, wasn’t really on the commercial register. Hardly anyone at the time had heard of the now legendary Robert Johnson. That all came later.
People left the land during the 1940s with the arrival of mechanised cotton picking. They went up north to the industrial cities, mainly Chicago. At this point comes another development in ‘gear’ – the electric guitar. The guys who were still active (some of the originals had died, others had given up) turned to the louder, beefier sound of the electric, and with that came developments in the music itself. It got more rhythm based, and it started to be played by bands rather than solos. The band set-up still standard today was first adopted by such artists as Sonny Boy Williamson I in Chicago and of course by Muddy Waters. These electric bands were playing what became known as ‘urban blues’, as opposed to the ‘rural blues’ or ‘country blues’ played by one man and his acoustic. ‘Country blues’ should not be confused with ‘country music’, the ‘country’ means rural and the term actually means ‘acoustic blues’.
The big names in the electric blues in the 1950s were in Chicago and recording for the Chess label. They include Muddy, Howlin’ Wolf and Sonny Boy Williamson II. They played in clubs, people danced. It’s worth pointing out that very little of what they did was in strict 12-bar formula, and none of it had lead guitar solos as the centre piece. They were doing songs; there were guitar and harmonica breaks, but there weren’t any guitar players wincing and pouting as they appeared to be trying to extract particularly stubborn pieces of fluff from their navels. And these guys, in the great scheme of things, weren’t really famous and certainly didn’t make a heap of money.
This electric blues morphed into rock’n’roll, which is essentially electric blues in double time and employing just one of the rhythms of blues, that irresistible chugging thing. Chuck Berry’s the man here, as he (and Bo Diddley) invented the popular rock’n’roll song. British kids growing up in the second half of the 50s and in the early 60s lapped all this up. The Stones were in the Muddy/blues camp; The Beatles were in the Elvis/rock’n’roll camp. The Stones led to rock music; The Beatles re-invented pop music. They both were, in the great scheme of things, famous, and they certainly did make a heap of money.
The ‘original’, ‘authentic’ acoustic blues was by now gone, but not forgotten. In the 1950s and early 1960s, educated white folk, usually students, started to get interested in the roots and heritage of American music. One or two influential compilation albums came out (another influence of technology – the birth of the LP). These contained recordings by the original acoustic bluesmen of the 20s and 30s, and they caused a bit of a stir. Some people then had the bright idea of trying to find these artists, who had recorded decades earlier but not been heard of since. And so it was that well-intentioned people went down South and found Son House and Mississippi John Hurt and Reverend Gary Davis and Skip James and a host of others. Through the 60s, these now old men were feted at festivals and on the college and coffee house circuit, and they got to end their lives with a bit of money for their unparalleled musical talents.
One unfortunate effect of the ‘rediscovery’ period was that acoustic blues became associated in the popular imagination with old men. This is nonsense and merely reflects the lack of attention these people got when they first recorded. The fact of the matter is that the music was young people’s music when they did it – they were young themselves and so were most of their not huge audience. By and large, they were performing songs in the/their 60s they had first recorded in the/their 20s. It’s just the same as if The Stones had disappeared totally in 1972 and were now being brought back to perform Honky Tonk Women.
The Stones are quite relevant to this history, for one reason because they had the only number 1 hit record of all time that was a blues standard – Little Red Rooster (by Howlin’ Wolf originally) in the mid 60s. This was around the time of what the Americans called The British Invasion and also of, over here, the British Blues Boom. The former enabled Americans to hear of people like Muddy Waters for the first time (a US interviewer at the time asked where that was). The latter featured the likes of John Mayall and Fleetwood Mac (Peter Green incarnation) but it only lasted for a very short time and quickly gave way to a whole new genre of popular music – rock.
Up until this point, there had been no white people in the story (other than on the business side, of course). They arrived in the mid 60s, as blues was swiftly elbowed aside by rock. Rock came out of blues, particularly in the shape of Eric Clapton, Jimi Hendrix and Led Zeppelin. All started out playing blues, and all of them moved on from there to create ‘rock’, which was chiefly characterised by riff-based songs and lengthy instrumental passages, mostly lead guitar solos. Blues was the starting point but the outcome wasn’t anything really recognisable as blues music. Cream’s version of Robert Johnson’s Crossroads is a good example – the acoustic, one-man original is a song with some wonderful, dextrous guitar picking; the Cream version is a riff and a long guitar solo, with a bit of a song tacked on at the beginning and end. This laid the pattern for much of what was to follow under the name of blues.
The inventors of rock had been much influenced by the blues they heard on LPs in their teens. In particular, there was a double LP of Robert Johnson that had some commercial success in the 60s. John Hammond, head of CBS in America, went through the company’s archives and found the original Robert Johnson recordings from 1938. He’d tried to book him for a gig at the Carnegie Hall in 1939 only to discover that he’d died (a death witnessed, it would seem , by at least 400 other bluesmen, who told their story to gullible white folk for decades after). Johnson’s songs found a whole new audience, they were lifted out of utter obscurity to become the seminal influence on a whole lot of white boys who went on to fame and fortune with Johnson’s songs ringing in their ears.
These chaps, however, didn’t pick up acoustic guitars and attempt to play like Robert Johnson or his peers. Instead, they took some of the songs and used them in the rock music they were creating. Technology comes in here again – by the late 1960s amps were getting bigger and more powerful, making the loud lead guitar solo de rigueur. Brilliant acoustic songs such as Blind Willie McTell’s Statesboro Blues got mangled into electric rock workouts, the song itself a sort of inconvenience that had to be compressed between guitar solos. Acoustic blues went under the radar.
Well, after this, rock disappears up its own backside when the working class boys are replaced by chaps who had had piano lessons, and in the 1980s blues makes something of a reappearance in the person of Stevie Ray Vaughan (I gather, not knowing much about this). Generations of people come along thinking that all blues is loud electric music. They don’t know about the acoustic origins and probably not even of the pre-1960s electric origins. They are therefore missing out on absolutely all of the good stuff.
Technology again now. As CD making gets cheaper and more easily available in the mid 1990s, a torrent of artists can get their music out there. Among them are blues artists, both electric and acoustic. The best-seller lists for blues (a relative term) indicate that electric rock/blues form is the most popular, even though it has not changed at all since it first arrived in the mid 60s. Its fans seem to like the idea that it is something from the past. The acoustic scene, however, is more varied. Among the people to seek out in that field are Eric Bibb, Guy Davis, Steve James, Paul Rishell, Paul Geremia, Doug MacLeod, Corey Harris, Hans Theessink, Alvin Youngblood Hart, Mary Flower, Keb Mo and Rory Block. Special mention too for the great Taj Mahal, who has made great records from the 60s till now and carried the flame more or less alone through the 80s and early 90s. And you should definitely seek out Samuel James, the best young American acoustic artist. A mention too for our own Ian Siegal, Britain's best all-round blues artist, whose acoustic material more than holds its own in any company.
OK, we’re done now. Not perhaps an exactly ‘potted’ history but I have covered an entire century. Meanwhile, back at the Green Note, there we were, adding our own bit to all this history.
And it was another excellent one, with a good turnout both of audience and musicians. We had 8 different ‘acts’, in addition to me, as well as a number of instrumentalists.
I kicked off with the 12-string instrumental Primrose Hill Street Rag, and then did Long Long Way To Go, bringing in band members as the song went along. The band featured Ryan Carr on mandolin, Charles Benfield on double bass and Dave Forristal on keyboards (drummer Martin was ill). That’s the house band and we were joined by the very welcome presence of Will Greener on harp. Will set the harp-playing bar very high, as he always does. The five of us then did two more of my originals, Your Second Line and Sneakin’ Away.
Owen Houlston followed us, various house band members joining him on his distinctive versions of pre-war acoustic blues songs. Owen is dusting off some of the gems to be found in that mine and putting his own imprint on numbers from that era. This is a noble calling. He was also joined by Will on guitar, making his first appearance at the event and playing acoustic at a jam for the first time. He can now tick that challenge off the list as successfully overcome.
James Daniel on harp and vocals, with Chris on guitar, they delivered their now regular high-quality set, with Dave on piano an integral part of their sound as they do non-standard, often New Orleans based material. Another fine set followed as Simon threw himself with wild abandon into some excellent good-time stuff, starting with a solo number and then being joined by Dan Sheehan on harp, Dave on piano and Phil, making his debut at the event on his new acoustic bass. The major challenge for Phil was to get enough room on stage to play the thing, a problem caused partly by the size of the stage and the number of musicians on it, but mostly by the fact that Dave’s keyboard is of a size that would normally require planning permission.
Two newcomers came next, Paul and Chris, and very good they were too, operating as a duo (guitar/vocal and harp) and doing material that again showed what variety is possible under the umbrella of acoustic blues/roots. Phil came next, joined by Charles, Ryan and Dan on harp for a fine set of pre-war style acoustic blues, during the course of which I think I heard the name of Sleepy John Estes get mentioned, always a good sign I think.
Ryan did a couple of his own numbers next, going down as well as ever. He’s a big part of the success of these evenings. Finally, up got Barry Jackson and Will for a joint set, with Ryan on mandolin, Phil back on bass, and Dave. Barry was on excellent form and between them they cooked up a whole variety of excellent stuff, and people would have been happy to hear a whole lot more of that had time permitted. It was particularly good to see Will back and the thing is always the better for him being there.
There was just enough time for me and the band to round things off with one last number (Easy Does It). It was pretty late by now and next time I think we’ll have to say two numbers each to start off with so that we don’t overrun and cause the Green Note folk to have to stay later than is reasonable. That’ll depend of course on how many people come to play, and if we do that, we can try to get at least some people back up for another number later.
So it was another fine evening at this fine place, and now you all know how it all fits in from a historical perspective. Next time, I shall set a test on the history in this blog. The winner, as Spike Milligan used to say, will receive a free burial at sea.
The next jam is on Wednesday 14th April.
Mark Harrison
No Barry Jackson sketches or photos this time. If anyone took photos, they can send them and I’ll add them.
Add to this the fact that it’s come to my attention since I got involved in all this after a lengthy hiatus that a number of people think that ‘blues’ automatically means formulaic electric music with lengthy loud guitar solos. So I’m going to attempt a potted history. Musicologists and ethnomusicologists need not leave comments about the yawning gaps in this, or its oversimplification. So here goes.
The music known as ‘blues’ really began in the first decade of the 20th century. People in the rural parts of a couple of southern US states, principally Mississippi, performed for the entertainment of the locals on plantations and in towns and cities. Their repertoire consisted of their own takes on various songs, including work songs and field hollers sung while working in the fields and while in prison work gangs. The songs contained elements of all sorts of what we might now call folk music, country music, ragtime and spirituals. Learned people have written books about how African influences exist in the scales and general feel of the music.
Along came recording, for the story of popular music evolves alongside the arrival of ‘gear’. In the 1920s, the newly formed record companies decided there was a market for the music these people were doing, and they sent people out into the rural areas to record them, often in hotel rooms. These records were marketed as ‘race records’ – they were cheap, available in local stores and aimed solely at black people. Through the 1920s and 1930s, the ‘great names’ of the blues recorded, often prolifically. For one reason or another, some are better known to us now than others. The Premier League of this period consists of Charley Patton (probably the first ‘bluesman’), Son House, Blind Lemon Jefferson, Skip James, Blind Blake, Mississippi John Hurt, Blind Willie McTell, Sleepy John Estes, Blind Willie Johnson and of course Robert Johnson, among others. If you don’t possess music by all of these, you need to rectify that error sharpish.
These pioneers weren’t wedded to the 12-bar pattern by any means. It evolved fairly early in proceedings, but was by no means followed rigidly by these artists. A lot of their repertoire was based around the I, IV, V three-chord menu, but there was considerable variety in how they used this, and plenty of material following the more complex patterns of ragtime.
It is worth pointing out too that none of these people were remotely famous by any serious definition of that word. They eked out a living playing on street corners or at local parties in juke joints or at fish fries. They were itinerant, roaming the area playing from place to place and living on their wits. There were no venues to hustle gigs at for this kind of musician, and nothing resembling session work. The action, and the greater fame, lay in a whole other thing known as blues at the time, which tended to involve female singers, big bands with jazz-type arrangements and something resembling hit records. The solo male bluesman, travelling around, recording for nickels and dimes, wasn’t really on the commercial register. Hardly anyone at the time had heard of the now legendary Robert Johnson. That all came later.
People left the land during the 1940s with the arrival of mechanised cotton picking. They went up north to the industrial cities, mainly Chicago. At this point comes another development in ‘gear’ – the electric guitar. The guys who were still active (some of the originals had died, others had given up) turned to the louder, beefier sound of the electric, and with that came developments in the music itself. It got more rhythm based, and it started to be played by bands rather than solos. The band set-up still standard today was first adopted by such artists as Sonny Boy Williamson I in Chicago and of course by Muddy Waters. These electric bands were playing what became known as ‘urban blues’, as opposed to the ‘rural blues’ or ‘country blues’ played by one man and his acoustic. ‘Country blues’ should not be confused with ‘country music’, the ‘country’ means rural and the term actually means ‘acoustic blues’.
The big names in the electric blues in the 1950s were in Chicago and recording for the Chess label. They include Muddy, Howlin’ Wolf and Sonny Boy Williamson II. They played in clubs, people danced. It’s worth pointing out that very little of what they did was in strict 12-bar formula, and none of it had lead guitar solos as the centre piece. They were doing songs; there were guitar and harmonica breaks, but there weren’t any guitar players wincing and pouting as they appeared to be trying to extract particularly stubborn pieces of fluff from their navels. And these guys, in the great scheme of things, weren’t really famous and certainly didn’t make a heap of money.
This electric blues morphed into rock’n’roll, which is essentially electric blues in double time and employing just one of the rhythms of blues, that irresistible chugging thing. Chuck Berry’s the man here, as he (and Bo Diddley) invented the popular rock’n’roll song. British kids growing up in the second half of the 50s and in the early 60s lapped all this up. The Stones were in the Muddy/blues camp; The Beatles were in the Elvis/rock’n’roll camp. The Stones led to rock music; The Beatles re-invented pop music. They both were, in the great scheme of things, famous, and they certainly did make a heap of money.
The ‘original’, ‘authentic’ acoustic blues was by now gone, but not forgotten. In the 1950s and early 1960s, educated white folk, usually students, started to get interested in the roots and heritage of American music. One or two influential compilation albums came out (another influence of technology – the birth of the LP). These contained recordings by the original acoustic bluesmen of the 20s and 30s, and they caused a bit of a stir. Some people then had the bright idea of trying to find these artists, who had recorded decades earlier but not been heard of since. And so it was that well-intentioned people went down South and found Son House and Mississippi John Hurt and Reverend Gary Davis and Skip James and a host of others. Through the 60s, these now old men were feted at festivals and on the college and coffee house circuit, and they got to end their lives with a bit of money for their unparalleled musical talents.
One unfortunate effect of the ‘rediscovery’ period was that acoustic blues became associated in the popular imagination with old men. This is nonsense and merely reflects the lack of attention these people got when they first recorded. The fact of the matter is that the music was young people’s music when they did it – they were young themselves and so were most of their not huge audience. By and large, they were performing songs in the/their 60s they had first recorded in the/their 20s. It’s just the same as if The Stones had disappeared totally in 1972 and were now being brought back to perform Honky Tonk Women.
The Stones are quite relevant to this history, for one reason because they had the only number 1 hit record of all time that was a blues standard – Little Red Rooster (by Howlin’ Wolf originally) in the mid 60s. This was around the time of what the Americans called The British Invasion and also of, over here, the British Blues Boom. The former enabled Americans to hear of people like Muddy Waters for the first time (a US interviewer at the time asked where that was). The latter featured the likes of John Mayall and Fleetwood Mac (Peter Green incarnation) but it only lasted for a very short time and quickly gave way to a whole new genre of popular music – rock.
Up until this point, there had been no white people in the story (other than on the business side, of course). They arrived in the mid 60s, as blues was swiftly elbowed aside by rock. Rock came out of blues, particularly in the shape of Eric Clapton, Jimi Hendrix and Led Zeppelin. All started out playing blues, and all of them moved on from there to create ‘rock’, which was chiefly characterised by riff-based songs and lengthy instrumental passages, mostly lead guitar solos. Blues was the starting point but the outcome wasn’t anything really recognisable as blues music. Cream’s version of Robert Johnson’s Crossroads is a good example – the acoustic, one-man original is a song with some wonderful, dextrous guitar picking; the Cream version is a riff and a long guitar solo, with a bit of a song tacked on at the beginning and end. This laid the pattern for much of what was to follow under the name of blues.
The inventors of rock had been much influenced by the blues they heard on LPs in their teens. In particular, there was a double LP of Robert Johnson that had some commercial success in the 60s. John Hammond, head of CBS in America, went through the company’s archives and found the original Robert Johnson recordings from 1938. He’d tried to book him for a gig at the Carnegie Hall in 1939 only to discover that he’d died (a death witnessed, it would seem , by at least 400 other bluesmen, who told their story to gullible white folk for decades after). Johnson’s songs found a whole new audience, they were lifted out of utter obscurity to become the seminal influence on a whole lot of white boys who went on to fame and fortune with Johnson’s songs ringing in their ears.
These chaps, however, didn’t pick up acoustic guitars and attempt to play like Robert Johnson or his peers. Instead, they took some of the songs and used them in the rock music they were creating. Technology comes in here again – by the late 1960s amps were getting bigger and more powerful, making the loud lead guitar solo de rigueur. Brilliant acoustic songs such as Blind Willie McTell’s Statesboro Blues got mangled into electric rock workouts, the song itself a sort of inconvenience that had to be compressed between guitar solos. Acoustic blues went under the radar.
Well, after this, rock disappears up its own backside when the working class boys are replaced by chaps who had had piano lessons, and in the 1980s blues makes something of a reappearance in the person of Stevie Ray Vaughan (I gather, not knowing much about this). Generations of people come along thinking that all blues is loud electric music. They don’t know about the acoustic origins and probably not even of the pre-1960s electric origins. They are therefore missing out on absolutely all of the good stuff.
Technology again now. As CD making gets cheaper and more easily available in the mid 1990s, a torrent of artists can get their music out there. Among them are blues artists, both electric and acoustic. The best-seller lists for blues (a relative term) indicate that electric rock/blues form is the most popular, even though it has not changed at all since it first arrived in the mid 60s. Its fans seem to like the idea that it is something from the past. The acoustic scene, however, is more varied. Among the people to seek out in that field are Eric Bibb, Guy Davis, Steve James, Paul Rishell, Paul Geremia, Doug MacLeod, Corey Harris, Hans Theessink, Alvin Youngblood Hart, Mary Flower, Keb Mo and Rory Block. Special mention too for the great Taj Mahal, who has made great records from the 60s till now and carried the flame more or less alone through the 80s and early 90s. And you should definitely seek out Samuel James, the best young American acoustic artist. A mention too for our own Ian Siegal, Britain's best all-round blues artist, whose acoustic material more than holds its own in any company.
OK, we’re done now. Not perhaps an exactly ‘potted’ history but I have covered an entire century. Meanwhile, back at the Green Note, there we were, adding our own bit to all this history.
And it was another excellent one, with a good turnout both of audience and musicians. We had 8 different ‘acts’, in addition to me, as well as a number of instrumentalists.
I kicked off with the 12-string instrumental Primrose Hill Street Rag, and then did Long Long Way To Go, bringing in band members as the song went along. The band featured Ryan Carr on mandolin, Charles Benfield on double bass and Dave Forristal on keyboards (drummer Martin was ill). That’s the house band and we were joined by the very welcome presence of Will Greener on harp. Will set the harp-playing bar very high, as he always does. The five of us then did two more of my originals, Your Second Line and Sneakin’ Away.
Owen Houlston followed us, various house band members joining him on his distinctive versions of pre-war acoustic blues songs. Owen is dusting off some of the gems to be found in that mine and putting his own imprint on numbers from that era. This is a noble calling. He was also joined by Will on guitar, making his first appearance at the event and playing acoustic at a jam for the first time. He can now tick that challenge off the list as successfully overcome.
James Daniel on harp and vocals, with Chris on guitar, they delivered their now regular high-quality set, with Dave on piano an integral part of their sound as they do non-standard, often New Orleans based material. Another fine set followed as Simon threw himself with wild abandon into some excellent good-time stuff, starting with a solo number and then being joined by Dan Sheehan on harp, Dave on piano and Phil, making his debut at the event on his new acoustic bass. The major challenge for Phil was to get enough room on stage to play the thing, a problem caused partly by the size of the stage and the number of musicians on it, but mostly by the fact that Dave’s keyboard is of a size that would normally require planning permission.
Two newcomers came next, Paul and Chris, and very good they were too, operating as a duo (guitar/vocal and harp) and doing material that again showed what variety is possible under the umbrella of acoustic blues/roots. Phil came next, joined by Charles, Ryan and Dan on harp for a fine set of pre-war style acoustic blues, during the course of which I think I heard the name of Sleepy John Estes get mentioned, always a good sign I think.
Ryan did a couple of his own numbers next, going down as well as ever. He’s a big part of the success of these evenings. Finally, up got Barry Jackson and Will for a joint set, with Ryan on mandolin, Phil back on bass, and Dave. Barry was on excellent form and between them they cooked up a whole variety of excellent stuff, and people would have been happy to hear a whole lot more of that had time permitted. It was particularly good to see Will back and the thing is always the better for him being there.
There was just enough time for me and the band to round things off with one last number (Easy Does It). It was pretty late by now and next time I think we’ll have to say two numbers each to start off with so that we don’t overrun and cause the Green Note folk to have to stay later than is reasonable. That’ll depend of course on how many people come to play, and if we do that, we can try to get at least some people back up for another number later.
So it was another fine evening at this fine place, and now you all know how it all fits in from a historical perspective. Next time, I shall set a test on the history in this blog. The winner, as Spike Milligan used to say, will receive a free burial at sea.
The next jam is on Wednesday 14th April.
Mark Harrison
No Barry Jackson sketches or photos this time. If anyone took photos, they can send them and I’ll add them.
Wednesday February 10th 2010
Having been around a long time before blogs were invented, I can’t help wondering exactly what their function is. For all my life until the arrival of email, the internet, the mobile phone and assorted other questionable toys, I felt that communication was more or less covered. There were phones (albeit broken public ones), in extreme circumstances there were letters, and there was, above all, the now almost extinct act of speaking to other people. If you wanted to know stuff, there were newspapers, the telly and even books. I felt like I knew as much about other people, and what was going on, as I wanted or needed to. In many cases, that included knowing nothing whatsoever about them.
Recently I read that the forthcoming election will be the first one ‘decided by bloggers’. The organ informing me of this then cited a handful of bloggers, of whom I had, needless to say, not heard. I’m willing to wager that nobody but a small coterie of people who pride themselves on being ‘opinion formers’ and their own close families will have heard of these people. And so, rather weirdly, we have yet another example of this great global tool of communication, the computer, having made the world mysteriously smaller, enabling a small number of arrogant nobodies to feel (and for all I know actually be) important.
This leads to the question: what are blogs for? Or perhaps more importantly, who are they for? Are they simply a modern and rather risible version of the parish magazine? In which case, should I be reporting faithfully on what Dave Forristal is currently growing on his allotment or the failure of Owen Houlston’s resonator to win ‘Biscuit Of The Year’?
Or is a blog just another version of one of those awful ‘family newsletters’ that poncy folk used to send around with their Christmas cards not that many years ago? You know, ‘Roger has finally become a partner at Lickspittle & Crawler .... Annabel’s salmon terrine remains the talk of Belsize Park ..... Magda has been invaluable to us and we will miss her terribly when she returns to poverty in Romania ... Piers this year became the youngest pupil in his school to pass advanced accountancy exams ....’
Well, this time I’m going to avoid both the above approaches and write this for people who don’t know anything about the event and don’t know us. So here goes.
A room full of people gathered at the very congenial venue that is the Green Note, and were all there by 8 or so. The purpose of the event was for people to play and listen to acoustic blues music in various instrumental combinations. There is a view that perhaps the most interesting music currently happening in blues is acoustic and this event gives people a chance to hear this kind of thing done (hopefully) very well, in a relaxed atmosphere, impromptu but not at all shambolic.
Recently I read that the forthcoming election will be the first one ‘decided by bloggers’. The organ informing me of this then cited a handful of bloggers, of whom I had, needless to say, not heard. I’m willing to wager that nobody but a small coterie of people who pride themselves on being ‘opinion formers’ and their own close families will have heard of these people. And so, rather weirdly, we have yet another example of this great global tool of communication, the computer, having made the world mysteriously smaller, enabling a small number of arrogant nobodies to feel (and for all I know actually be) important.
This leads to the question: what are blogs for? Or perhaps more importantly, who are they for? Are they simply a modern and rather risible version of the parish magazine? In which case, should I be reporting faithfully on what Dave Forristal is currently growing on his allotment or the failure of Owen Houlston’s resonator to win ‘Biscuit Of The Year’?
Or is a blog just another version of one of those awful ‘family newsletters’ that poncy folk used to send around with their Christmas cards not that many years ago? You know, ‘Roger has finally become a partner at Lickspittle & Crawler .... Annabel’s salmon terrine remains the talk of Belsize Park ..... Magda has been invaluable to us and we will miss her terribly when she returns to poverty in Romania ... Piers this year became the youngest pupil in his school to pass advanced accountancy exams ....’
Well, this time I’m going to avoid both the above approaches and write this for people who don’t know anything about the event and don’t know us. So here goes.
A room full of people gathered at the very congenial venue that is the Green Note, and were all there by 8 or so. The purpose of the event was for people to play and listen to acoustic blues music in various instrumental combinations. There is a view that perhaps the most interesting music currently happening in blues is acoustic and this event gives people a chance to hear this kind of thing done (hopefully) very well, in a relaxed atmosphere, impromptu but not at all shambolic.
house band
There is a house band, comprising double bass, mandolin, keyboards and percussion. These musicians, together with any instrumentalists such as harp players who turn up on the night, accompany people who play and sing and therefore ‘lead’ a short set. Those people can request which musicians they want to play with. The scary unpredictability of being put with unknown quantities just about never happens.
The sound is nice and clear, you can hear what everyone’s doing. You can also hear a very wide variety of music, the acoustic side of things being much less samey that the standard electric fare. The music may veer at any given point from prewar blues, to folk/blues, to countryish songs and any other area that might loosely be described as ‘roots’ music. The norm is three songs each, though if it’s very busy (as it was on this occasion) this might go down to two.
Ryan, Charles, Mark, Martin
The evening started with event co-host Mark Harrison kicking off with some of his own compositions, playing his ancient National. He started with a song with mandolin maestro Ryan Carr and double bass genius Charles Benfield. They were then joined by brilliant keyboard player Dave Forristal and percussionist par excellence Martin Holloway for three more numbers. The well of enthusiastic adjectives has now run dry.
First ‘act’ of the evening was Owen Houlston. Owen’s doing his own individual take on prewar blues songs and doing it very well indeed. Nothing standard issue about Owen’s gruff vocals and impassioned resonator playing, which went very well with the house band. The key word here is ‘individual’. Blues at Green Note likes individuals.
Owen
Previous, and welcome, performer James Daniel was up next. He played harp and sang, accompanied by Chris on guitar and Ian on percussion. Charles and Dave joined them too. It was a fine set, Dave’s piano to the fore. James chooses interesting material to do that never gets an outing at a blues jam, and this time he pulled out the great New Orleans song ‘Junko Partner’, definitively done by Dr John on Gumbo.
James & Chris
Good friend of the event and regular Barry Jackson was up next. Another great set, relaxed but tight, the whole house band following the lead and going to all the right places, even if those places are sometimes quite unexpected. Ryan’s mandolin tore the place up, not for the first time.
Next came a newcomer to the event, Simon. He started by declaring that he’d been expecting to play solo and was surprised to find himself wedged on a tiny stage with more people than you can squeeze into a minibus. Dan Sheehan played harp, Ben played guitar for the first time at this event, more or less the whole house band stayed up. It was a rousing set, Simon hitting the bottleneck playing hard and generating great good humour. The audience got involved.
Hayley got up next and sang, very well, a standard. I think it was Love Letters In The Sand, I was a bit busy sorting out how to get everyone fitted in on what was a very busy evening. We had a record 11 ‘acts’, and regular Justin couldn’t get on. He took this very well, in stark contrast to what was going on at probably exactly that point in time at a well-known electric jam not too far away, where the host was in the process of offering what used to be called a ‘knuckle sandwich’ to a stroppy bloke who’d just been told politely that it was too busy for him to get on and do his guitar solo. Blues at Green Note doesn’t encourage stroppy.
Next on stage was event co-host David Atkinson, with bandmate from Dry Bones, Steve Deller. David played his quite wonderful Fraulini 12-string, Steve played a tiple. No, me neither. It’s a rather delightful mini-guitar with 10 strings (I think) that looks a bit like a ukulele but doesn’t sound at all like one, having a very bright sound and lots of poke. David and Steve are top-quality musicians (sse their band Dry Bones if you can) and they divvied up an excellent and really interesting set, one highlight of which was a version of Woody Guthrie’s classic Deportees.
Another newcomer to the event, Phil, was on next, and his was another high-quality set, utilising the skills of various band members, especially Dave, to back up his excellent singing and playing. He was followed by yet another first-timer, John, who played and sang with his wife Jenny also singing and his son on percussion. James Daniel played harp with them, Charles was up there too. They did a version of the blues standard Motherless Child (rather in the Richie Havens mould I’d say) and a song by The Subdudes (great band, check ‘em out). A good time was had by all. And John won the Longest Beard Competition by a country mile.
Now past our usual finishing time, we still had a good crowd and so there was time for Ryan to get up and do one of his own compositions, followed by another of his audience participation numbers. Once again the audience did indeed participate without too much coaxing (nothing worse than a performer sulking because you won’t join in, but this never seems to happen to Ryan).
Ryan
Graham Hinton, regular and fine performer, rounded things off, with most of the band and with Owen also there on his resonator. It was a good way to end the evening, the quality not having taken a dip at any point, and a huge variety of music having been purveyed by all 10 acts. That’s a record, as was the number of people still there right at the end.
Charles, Owen, Graham, Martin
So, a very good one. There was a very good turnout indeed, and the usual excellent atmosphere. Some very fine music was played by some very fine people. Nuff said.
Well, that’s another blog done. I guess the answer to my question about the point of them is that there are all sorts of genres of blog, and that probably none of them matter all that much. But what about the event described in this one? Does that matter much? Hell, yes, by any reasonable measure of what’s important in life.
Mark Harrison
Next one: Wednesday 10th March
Tell as many people as you can.
Bring as many people as you can
Come and play if you want to.
Come and listen and enjoy.
Put a comment on this blog.
Big thanks to Barry Jackson for the sketches and photos.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)