As noted previously, I am doing both a solo set and (with my wife, son and next-door neighbour) a band set in the first ever Mitcheldean Folk Festival next Saturday. Here is the final program (click through for a PDF of all four pages):
It would be great to see any of you there who can make it.
As I noted last time, the first ever Mitcheldean Folk Festival will be held on 18th-20th July this year. Not only did I get a solo slot in the evening, but — much more exciting to me — we have a band playing in the afternoon:
I’ve been going along to Mitcheldean Folk Club in the last few months. And it turns out I got involved just in time for the first ever Mitcheldean Folk Festival, which will be held on 18th-20th July 2014, but mostly on Saturday 19th.
This afternoon, I did my first solo gig. Up till now, I’ve done a few gigs as a part of combos (including as a jazz singer, bizarrely) and plenty of short solo spots at folk clubs, but this was the first time I’d done a complete set, with just my guitar and voice.
It takes a certain amount of courage.
For anyone who retains some scepticism that I sing at folk clubs, here is a rather poor-quality video of our indifferent performance last night of the superb Crosby, Stills and Nash song Guinnevere, which you can hear on their first album. Or on YouTube. You should listen to that, not this:
I didn’t realise until six last night that there would be a folk club that evening at eight. That gave me an hour and a half to lick a couple of new songs into shape (since it takes half an hour to drive there, nab a slot in the programme, and get a beer).
As a tribute to Lou Reed, who died last week, I wanted to do his song Perfect Day. And I also had a hankering to try out Leonhard Cohen’s much-covered impressionistic masterpiece Hallelujah.
Because a lot of other things came up — including summer, this conference and this paper that I wrote in its aftermath — it feels like it’s been ages since I played and sang songs at a folk club or similar. Checking my notes, I see that the last time was in fact right back in May, which is much too long.
Happily, I fixed that on Friday night, where I had a chance to play four songs at the Cross Keys Inn in Goodrich. One of them I’ve done before: Crosby, Stills and Nash’s cheerful travelogue Marrakesh Express. But the other three were all new additions to the repertoire: Paul Simon’s downbeat three-act short story Slip-Slidin’ Away, the Beatles psychedelic epic A Day in the Life, and Joni Mitchell’s heartbreaking but emotionally cold A Case of You. (I know you need a band, a symphony orchestra and three grand pianos to do A Day in the Life properly, but we make do and mend.)
That brings my repertoire to 45 songs. When I hit fifty, I’ll have to start looking around and seeing if I can find some actual gigs, or at least support slots.
Also on the agenda: it’s to my enduring shame that I’ve never written a song of my own. I like interpreting others’ work, but it does feel like that’s only half of the job.
Today is a big day for the Internet. Nearly everyone reading this site will be aware of the Stop Online Piracy Act (SOPA) and the Protect IP Act (PIPA), two appallingly ill-conceived pieces of legislation under consideration in the US but with profound ramifications for the whole world. Written at the behest of big copyright holders by people with no understanding of how the Internet works either mechanically or culturally, they would be absolutely disastrous if passed.
In response to this, many high-profile web-sites are demonstrating the results such laws would have by going dark for the day. They include Reddit and, most importantly, Wikipedia. (Also, the entire Cheezburger network and many, many others.) We can only hope that this distributed demonstration results not just in SOPA and PIPA being rejected, but in an emphatic smackdown that makes it impossible for similarly dumb legislation to get mind-space in the future.
But there is another threat also making its way through the US Congress — less publicised but also hugely important.
Posted in Everything, Frustration, Me singing folk songs, Not my favourite, Politics, Publishing, Sheer, mind-bending stupidity, Shiny digital future, The Real World, Train wrecks
I keep track of what music I’ve been listening to on my computers through the year, and at the end of each year I like to produce a compilation of ten tracks representing what I’ve heard. (More than ten tracks is wearing for people to listen to. I learned this by ploughing through a friend’s Top 25 one year).
I listen much more to whole albums than to individual tracks, so what I’ve done is to pick the top ten albums that I listened to the most in 2011, as recorded on the two computers where I listen to most of my music. (So these counts don’t include listening in the car or on the iPod.) I limited it to no more than one album per artist, and I skipped compilations. Then from each of those ten objectively selected albums, I subjectively picked one song that I felt was representative.
Over the next few days, I will be writing a brief post on each of those top ten songs, in reverse order. (I think several short posts should be easier to digest than one big one, as I did last year.) Although I was aware that I’d been listening to (and playing) a lot of folk music this year, I was surprised at how strongly that genre turned out to dominate the top ten albums: all but two of them are “folk music” for some reasonable definition of the term — though they are very different from each other.
Next time: we start with a transitional album by one of the greats.
… and finally
Back at the Forest Folk Club last night, and for the first time ever my wife, Fiona, was with me. I sang three new songs: Paul Simon’s nostalgic lament Still Crazy After All These Years (with most of the chords correct, but not all); The Beatle’s hallucinogenic ramble Strawberry Fields Forever; and Lucy Kaplansky’s deceptively cheerful stalker-song Don’t Mind Me.
Sorry it’s been so quiet around here. I’ve been away twice in the last few weeks, and in the time since then I’ve been revving frantically to catch up with what’s been happening in my absence. But just to make you all jealous, here is one of the photos I took on my trip to Cancun:
It’s hard to believe such places really exist, isn’t it? But this is the raw shot, straight off the camera, no processing at all. It’s a tiny beach at the ancient Mayan city of Tulum — the most startlingly beautiful place I’ve ever seen.