Folkin' Excellent (ho ho ho . . .)
Aug. 5th, 2002 11:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zotzThe folk festival was much fun. Thursday night was Billy Bragg, who was on fine form doing a solo set. It's only about the second time I've seen him in seven or eight years, so I was well chuffed to get tolerably near the front. This was, in fact, the performance of the festival for me. He was very funny and did an excellent sampling from his various records - inevitably with some updated to take account of current events. He was on Top of the Pops recently, and apparently bumped into an old friend from years back. They asked each other what they were doing there, and Billy said he was in the charts again, and his mate said "I'm Ms Dynamite's Dad!" You know you're getting old when . . .
Friday I had off work. I spent it picking the car up (it works again) and then wandering round a field. The writeup for Coope, Boyes and Simpson looked interesting, so I went along. I wasn't disappointed. I don't know if the idea of three middle-aged blokes singing a cappella makes you run screaming or not, but they did the trick for me. I will rave about them on request. Very funny, very harsh about their mates, very political . . . what more could you ask for? They're sampled on the new Chumbawamba album, and named as recommended listening in the booklet. Recommended. The barbers-shop trio is clearly the way forward.
After that, the Waterboys. You'll all have heard their stuff, so all I'll really say is that they sounded just like that. Best of all, they played Fisherman's Blues (although I notice the Radio 2 review says they didn't) - nearly as good was that they didn't bother with The Whole Of The Moon, which is ridculously over-rated. Also recommended, if you get the chance.
I was in theory going to a party after that, but I didn't make it. Actually, it was Mike Scott's fault. Fisherman's Blues brought back a lot of memories from years ago when i was a lot happier than I am now, and when I sat down to think about it, it all came flooding in . . . and out. A shame, but I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
Saturday started with a relaxed paper-reading session, and then over to the festival in the early afternoon. The Be Good Tanyas were very good in their way, but my taste in folk music runs more to the energetic ranting than the wistfully tuneful, so I didn't like them as much as others might. the same goes for Cara Dillon - I was told not to miss her set, and indeed she's very talented and has a ridiculously sweet voice, but didn't really set me on fire, I'm afraid. I walked out on the Oysterband, because my back was hurting and goddammit I'll be seeing them next weekend anyway. I got back in time for the infamous Chumbawamba, who were loud and energetic. I'm sure the purists would deny that most of their set was folk, but they take the Louis Armstrong line "All music is folk music - I've never yet heard a horse sing a song." they started badly - they have a song with the chorus "Can't hear you cause your mouth's full of shit". Now, I've only heard this in person coming from people who were too stupid to understand what I was saying, let alone answer it, so It always winds me up a bit. Apart from that, all good clean fun. Some acoustic stuff with harmonies, some big bouncy electric numbers, Tubthumping, Danbert looking quite sinister . . . I'm sure you get the idea. A pair of Hunts and a Niblett from work said that they liked Chumbawamba best over the weekend, but that's just because they're philistines. Billy was better.
After that, I wandered for a bit, bumped into a Russell that I vaguely know and got drenched in a sudden downpour. I went home, changed my jacket and boots and returned in time for Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros. A fine performance, I thought (although HHN above disagreed and left early - further proof of their Palestinian heritage). various newish stuff (interesting) some old Clash songs (ineffable), a version of an old reggae number called pressure Drop that I'm sure you all know, and an odd version of 1969. I've been saying for years that 1969's basically just a version of Bo Diddley - and, of course, every band should have a version of Bo Diddley. This version actually sounded like Bo Diddley, so i regard the point as proven and backed by the inestimable Mr Strummer.
Sunday I got back in bright and early to catch Coope, Boyes and Simpson again. Top stuff. Highly recommended. Cara Dillon was on again later, so I listened for a little bit. Visibility was better at this stage, so I can verify that she's getting on for being as pretty as her voice. Still not my kind of thing, though. I bumped into another friend, but slightly less expected this time - Meera, who left Cambridge for London a couple of years ago. The Dubliners were on next, and if seven aged and morbidly obese Irishmen don't do it for you, then frankly nothing will. A couple of twiddle hornpipes and reels, the Irish Rover, the Wild Rover, Dirty Old Town (Yes!), a surprising and excellent Lord of the Dance and some other great stuff too. All quite obvious, but fantastic. And . . . 'm seeing them next weekend too - and getting paid for the privilege.
That's it. I was going to see a couple more acts, including the Indigo girls, but I had too much wine, had a stupid argument with my boss and came home. Interesting discussion with Raven after, though, and then Donnla on the phone.
Today I have been mostly tinkering with strangely rearranged projects, arguing about whether it's OK to threaten to nail someone's bollocks to the floor because you feel offended (I think it's not), and washing my stuff for Cropredy this weekend. Should be a laugh. I've actually no idea of who else is working it this year. Presumably I'll know at least a couple of the other crew.
Friday I had off work. I spent it picking the car up (it works again) and then wandering round a field. The writeup for Coope, Boyes and Simpson looked interesting, so I went along. I wasn't disappointed. I don't know if the idea of three middle-aged blokes singing a cappella makes you run screaming or not, but they did the trick for me. I will rave about them on request. Very funny, very harsh about their mates, very political . . . what more could you ask for? They're sampled on the new Chumbawamba album, and named as recommended listening in the booklet. Recommended. The barbers-shop trio is clearly the way forward.
After that, the Waterboys. You'll all have heard their stuff, so all I'll really say is that they sounded just like that. Best of all, they played Fisherman's Blues (although I notice the Radio 2 review says they didn't) - nearly as good was that they didn't bother with The Whole Of The Moon, which is ridculously over-rated. Also recommended, if you get the chance.
I was in theory going to a party after that, but I didn't make it. Actually, it was Mike Scott's fault. Fisherman's Blues brought back a lot of memories from years ago when i was a lot happier than I am now, and when I sat down to think about it, it all came flooding in . . . and out. A shame, but I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
Saturday started with a relaxed paper-reading session, and then over to the festival in the early afternoon. The Be Good Tanyas were very good in their way, but my taste in folk music runs more to the energetic ranting than the wistfully tuneful, so I didn't like them as much as others might. the same goes for Cara Dillon - I was told not to miss her set, and indeed she's very talented and has a ridiculously sweet voice, but didn't really set me on fire, I'm afraid. I walked out on the Oysterband, because my back was hurting and goddammit I'll be seeing them next weekend anyway. I got back in time for the infamous Chumbawamba, who were loud and energetic. I'm sure the purists would deny that most of their set was folk, but they take the Louis Armstrong line "All music is folk music - I've never yet heard a horse sing a song." they started badly - they have a song with the chorus "Can't hear you cause your mouth's full of shit". Now, I've only heard this in person coming from people who were too stupid to understand what I was saying, let alone answer it, so It always winds me up a bit. Apart from that, all good clean fun. Some acoustic stuff with harmonies, some big bouncy electric numbers, Tubthumping, Danbert looking quite sinister . . . I'm sure you get the idea. A pair of Hunts and a Niblett from work said that they liked Chumbawamba best over the weekend, but that's just because they're philistines. Billy was better.
After that, I wandered for a bit, bumped into a Russell that I vaguely know and got drenched in a sudden downpour. I went home, changed my jacket and boots and returned in time for Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros. A fine performance, I thought (although HHN above disagreed and left early - further proof of their Palestinian heritage). various newish stuff (interesting) some old Clash songs (ineffable), a version of an old reggae number called pressure Drop that I'm sure you all know, and an odd version of 1969. I've been saying for years that 1969's basically just a version of Bo Diddley - and, of course, every band should have a version of Bo Diddley. This version actually sounded like Bo Diddley, so i regard the point as proven and backed by the inestimable Mr Strummer.
Sunday I got back in bright and early to catch Coope, Boyes and Simpson again. Top stuff. Highly recommended. Cara Dillon was on again later, so I listened for a little bit. Visibility was better at this stage, so I can verify that she's getting on for being as pretty as her voice. Still not my kind of thing, though. I bumped into another friend, but slightly less expected this time - Meera, who left Cambridge for London a couple of years ago. The Dubliners were on next, and if seven aged and morbidly obese Irishmen don't do it for you, then frankly nothing will. A couple of twiddle hornpipes and reels, the Irish Rover, the Wild Rover, Dirty Old Town (Yes!), a surprising and excellent Lord of the Dance and some other great stuff too. All quite obvious, but fantastic. And . . . 'm seeing them next weekend too - and getting paid for the privilege.
That's it. I was going to see a couple more acts, including the Indigo girls, but I had too much wine, had a stupid argument with my boss and came home. Interesting discussion with Raven after, though, and then Donnla on the phone.
Today I have been mostly tinkering with strangely rearranged projects, arguing about whether it's OK to threaten to nail someone's bollocks to the floor because you feel offended (I think it's not), and washing my stuff for Cropredy this weekend. Should be a laugh. I've actually no idea of who else is working it this year. Presumably I'll know at least a couple of the other crew.
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no subject
Date: 2002-08-06 01:30 am (UTC)"And God is dead
I saw him die
and hope is lost
like my alibi"
no subject
Date: 2002-08-06 02:00 am (UTC)Gaa, some people . . .
Yes. They did that one. But it isn't on the album I bought.
no subject
Date: 2002-08-06 02:25 am (UTC)I think my Dad might have it on tape or CD. I'll ask him to do me a cassette copy.
no subject
Date: 2002-08-06 02:43 am (UTC)Funny old world, isn't it?