I never got one!!!? PARP!!
| |||||||||||||
Saturday, 9 February 2013
Piggy muck square cropped up in a recent conversation in the Belvedere on Thursday and It started me thinking about the history of the area and I looked for some info on it as I used to walk across piggy muck Sq with my music teacher , A character named Arthur Barber who was a driver for British Rail , we were going to band practice at Edge hill shunting yards . Edge hill LMS. band were a force to be reckoned with in those days. Arthur used to promise to buy me a medal in the shop in Piggy muck square if I played well .
I never got one!!!? PARP!!
I never got one!!!? PARP!!
Thursday, 7 February 2013
Keep an eye on the Liverpool waterfront program running from late May to early June.
The events begin with the 70th and I am told , Final anniversary commemoration of the Battle of the Atlantic. This on May 24th and will close with the Mersey river festival June 7th--9th .
25 warships will be ranged between the cruise terminal and the Albert and Canning dock.
The highlight for me will be the return of the tall ships and the shanty weekend where I hope the "Afters" in the Baltic fleet will be another memorable night.
The events begin with the 70th and I am told , Final anniversary commemoration of the Battle of the Atlantic. This on May 24th and will close with the Mersey river festival June 7th--9th .
25 warships will be ranged between the cruise terminal and the Albert and Canning dock.
The highlight for me will be the return of the tall ships and the shanty weekend where I hope the "Afters" in the Baltic fleet will be another memorable night.
Went to the Belvedere session yesterday , A good singaround with an eclectic offer , all kinds of songs from the odd shanty through songs of love and lust to political comment , all well delivered and well received , A nice log fire spitting and crackling and Liverpool Organic brewery's "Cascade" A nice pale hoppy bitter using of course , the "Cascade" hop to give that lovely back of the palate sharpness. "Sandstone edge" was also on tap but a little cloudy for me , still a worthy offer.
Next week--- Thursday from 1400 to 1600hrs---- Dont be late on parade!! ;-)
PS. A happy birthday to Mathew's Dad. All the best!!!
Next week--- Thursday from 1400 to 1600hrs---- Dont be late on parade!! ;-)
PS. A happy birthday to Mathew's Dad. All the best!!!
Thinking back to the mid sixties I remember Glyn Hughes (Whiskey on a Sunday) penning a couple of songs about other Liverpool streets , one now a ghost street and the other "Re-developed" and I have the bait out in the murky pool of my memory and I am waiting for these fishes to swim to the hook , I have odd snatches that I recall and the skeleton is reforming . These songs were sung by Jimmy English , indeed one of them was penned by Glyn for Jimmy back in 65/66
Jimmy used to sing rock n roll in the "Dive" in Brythen street in the old markets area of Liverpool , a fantastic rambling warren of stalls selling anything and everything ! This was the only fully licensed street in the city , I was told , Housing "The Dive" "The Dart" and The Roebuck" --All pubs , To complete the deal the last shop was a tobacconists.
Anyway , Digging around I found this page and here's a link for the enjoyment of the Liverpool historians.
http://www.sevenstreets.com/city-living/liverpools-ghost-streets-bevington-bush/
And here's Jim. Taken during his "Residency" at the Court house pub in Commutation row circa 1964/5
Jimmy used to sing rock n roll in the "Dive" in Brythen street in the old markets area of Liverpool , a fantastic rambling warren of stalls selling anything and everything ! This was the only fully licensed street in the city , I was told , Housing "The Dive" "The Dart" and The Roebuck" --All pubs , To complete the deal the last shop was a tobacconists.
Anyway , Digging around I found this page and here's a link for the enjoyment of the Liverpool historians.
http://www.sevenstreets.com/city-living/liverpools-ghost-streets-bevington-bush/
And here's Jim. Taken during his "Residency" at the Court house pub in Commutation row circa 1964/5
Crooked Lane by Glyn Hughes
As sung by Jimmy English.
The sun shines bright on Rio
And likewise Lima town
And far across the Southern seas
The dawn shines like a crown
But I'd rather be in Liverpool
Listening to the Rai--ain
As it rattles on my window pane
In cozy crooked lane.
*
Crooked la--ane
Crooked La--ane
Cozy Cozy Crooked lane.
*
Farewell to Valpariso
And Gibraltar's burning rock
My heart it goes where the Mersey flows
Down by the Wapping dock
I'm Sailing home to Liverpool
Across the foaming mai--ain
To sit beside my Inglenook
In Cozy Crooked lane.
*
Chorus.
I'm trying to get the tune written out but I might need a bit of help with that.
The tune has a strange key change in the middle which I could never master back then because the notes werent on a flageolet .
Perhaps I should have tried another instrument???
Crooked lane in the 30's
Wednesday, 6 February 2013
Dent Music and Beer Festival
Here we go again! This is a great festival and the pub sessions are superb . The weather however is a different issue , The last two years have been wet---very very wet , maybe we stand a good chance of a bit of decent weather this time?????
The beers (pub) are all locally brewed and good and the beer festival has twenty or so offers.
I have family ties to this lovely valley so will get the inside track on whats going on ;-))
See you there???♫ ♫
http://www.dentmusicandbeer.com/
The beers (pub) are all locally brewed and good and the beer festival has twenty or so offers.
I have family ties to this lovely valley so will get the inside track on whats going on ;-))
See you there???♫ ♫
http://www.dentmusicandbeer.com/
Tuesday, 5 February 2013
Rather the Devil.
Rather the Devil. It needs a melody -- I'm thinking Bluesy at the moment but we'll see ---!
When I awoke this morning I was sweating in my bed
The devil stood before me in a glow of angry red
I looked out of the window as the rain began to fall
The devil started grinning , it was not a social call.
Now listen to me Lucifer I know I done much wrong
But I want to go to heaven , not to hell where I belong
The Devil said no no my boy I think you know right well
That your off to stir the brimstone pots , I’m taking you to hell.
Just then my lovely wife came in , said what the hell this row
The devils come to get me and to take me down below
She said listen here young Satan , now don’t you fuss and fret
You can have him very shortly but I aint done with him yet.
It wasn’t very hopeful but I thought I might be free
then I spotted her and Satan in the parlour drinking tea
I said ok I’ve had enough I’m going back to bed
If you want a soul to carry off why not take her instead.
Old Nick looked up at once and on his face there was a frown
He took a backward step and looked me missus up and down
He said Now that ive had a look at her it’s plain for all to tell
You’ve suffered long enough up here its better down in hell.
©. mike locke.
Monday, 4 February 2013
This is a song about old Percy who lived in Deepdale and used to swoop down the lanes on his old boneshaker with his black coat flapping behind him like a huge carrion crow on wheels. He would push the bike back home from the pub using it as a prop to keep him upright . One night he and the bike parted and Percy fell over only yards from his cottage and despite the alchohol Alas Percy died from frostbite.
Owd Percy stood fast with his back to the fire
to fill up with ale was his burning desire
outside stood his bicycle propped agin 't wall
United we stand-divided we fall.
Ch.
United we stand divided we fall
United we stand divided we fall
Its every night you can hear his voice call
United we stand divided we fall.
He'd roll it back home at the end of the night
it'd rattle oer 't cobbles with the stars shining bright
the folks in their beds would awake to his call
United we stand-divided we fall.
Through yellowgill dark where spirit folk play
and the ghosts of the dead hover grimly and grey
he'd roll the old bike without fear or appall
United we stand -divided we fall.
Then rolling past Greenwell with welcoming light
and up into Deepdale his cottage in sight
the owls would hoot down from the larches so tall
United we stand-divided we fall.
The snow started falling as he came to his gate
but his boots lost their grip on the loose limestone slate
The bike and he parted , he fell to the floor
United we stand-divided we fall.
The light snow kept falling so silent and white.
twas near level deep in the dawns mournfull light
owd Percy lay cold in the lee of the wall
United we stand-divided we fall
If your walking through 'Yellowgill late in the night
where the stars cannot shine and the moon gives no light
you may hear the bike rattle and hear the voice call
United we stand-divided we fall.©mike locke
MPL.
Owd Percy stood fast with his back to the fire
to fill up with ale was his burning desire
outside stood his bicycle propped agin 't wall
United we stand-divided we fall.
Ch.
United we stand divided we fall
United we stand divided we fall
Its every night you can hear his voice call
United we stand divided we fall.
He'd roll it back home at the end of the night
it'd rattle oer 't cobbles with the stars shining bright
the folks in their beds would awake to his call
United we stand-divided we fall.
Through yellowgill dark where spirit folk play
and the ghosts of the dead hover grimly and grey
he'd roll the old bike without fear or appall
United we stand -divided we fall.
Then rolling past Greenwell with welcoming light
and up into Deepdale his cottage in sight
the owls would hoot down from the larches so tall
United we stand-divided we fall.
The snow started falling as he came to his gate
but his boots lost their grip on the loose limestone slate
The bike and he parted , he fell to the floor
United we stand-divided we fall.
The light snow kept falling so silent and white.
twas near level deep in the dawns mournfull light
owd Percy lay cold in the lee of the wall
United we stand-divided we fall
If your walking through 'Yellowgill late in the night
where the stars cannot shine and the moon gives no light
you may hear the bike rattle and hear the voice call
United we stand-divided we fall.©mike locke
MPL.
Friday, 1 February 2013
No Trousers.
Another outrageous yarn no doubt embellished by the telling over the years! Never let the truth stand in the way of a good story eh??
There was a farmer called Bertie living in the dale, who was fond of a pint or two and over fond of his food resulting in his “Carrying a bit of condition”.
One day his wife was away visiting her sister in Kentmere, before she left she picked up and took out the rubbish but on her way out, an old lunchpack that had been overlooked dropped from the bag as she scurried out in haste. Bertie had been left food for the day in the pantry, but seeing the parcel on the kitchen floor he picked it up and looking inside it he found two boiled eggs and some bread and some cheese that looked a bit green and some wet ham! He concluded that the dog had been after his lunch and aiming a kick and a selection of awful oaths at the departing animal he sat down and ate the somewhat dry and smelly repast with a mug of black tea, “Bugger! He thought, bloody dog eatin’ at me bait!”
He shortly bethought himself that the cat was now away and this particular mouse had a couple of bob stashed away and Bert intended to take full advantage of the day! A few pints would do him good and with no wife to nag at him he felt even better.
Ignoring the rumbling in his belly he strode forth in good humour! He walked briskly along through the sunny lanes smelling the cut grass and the sun on the good earth and he felt great to be alive! He sat for a while on the bench and watched the activity in the valley spread before him!
Striding boldly into the pub he was greeted well by the old topers at the bar and bought himself a pint. Not to be over generous, He thought, not offering to buy anybody a drink as it was doubtful if any generosity would be returned! He had another and started feeling well pleased despite the growling spasms in his belly. Two or three more followed and “Reet good they were to”
As he emerged he smelled the fresh air and a bit of smoke on the breeze and he felt a great good humour upon him. He filled and lit his old pipe with a feeling of satisfaction. The disturbance in his belly he put down to the copious draughts he had consumed and strode forth onto the cobbles his hobnails rattling loudly.
As he proceeded the disturbance in his belly had moved in a most alarming manner and was causing him to retrace his steps back to the pub and its toilet!
He began to hurry as the spasms became more severe and as he rounded the bend he inhaled a puff of Bruno from his pipe and then the worst thing happened—He coughed.
Stopping dead in his tracks he realised that there was no longer any need for haste and he looked around for a refuge to make good his considerable discomfort, Seeing the pigpens he sloped in walking gingerly and stripped off his reeking britches and flung them from him in disgust. No wearing them now, he thought as they flapped over into the mire at the end of the sty. The curious pigs looked on in horror as he began to cleanse the awful mess from himself. The smell of the befouled trousers mingled with that of the malodorous pigshit and made his head spin. He stood naked from the waist down, bar his big black boots besmirched with pigshit and mud.
Then he realised the extent of his plight as he saw that the pigs had pulled the trousers into the pen and had rent them into rags.
He only had his jacket and a hairy long sleeved pullover over his linen shirt and he didn’t know what to do to get home without being seen.
Bert’s great good humour was dissipating fast as, having now removed his boots he felt the awful mire oozing between his toes as the pigs looked interestedly on while digesting the remnants of his trousers.
He took stock of his clothes and options and suddenly inspiration took him.
Taking the pullover he reversed it and forced his muck befouled legs into the sleeves and pulled it up!
He was quite pleased with the result and looked down at his tightly clad legs with the satisfaction only beer can impart. Pulling on his filthy boots he took his stick and made forth surreptitiously onto the deserted cobbles and quickly strode towards the footpath by the bridge. The neck of the pullover had been pulled up quite tightly and was affording a lot of ventilation to the nether parts and was alarming him greatly, “nivver mind” he muttered, gets home soon and no one will be the wiser.
He scuttled down beech hill and took to the footpath thinking all was well and so far no one had spotted him.
As he was negotiating the ladder stile with one leg cocked dangerously up and the neckhole yawning alarmingly, he saw a schoolboy appear on the path with a fishing net made from a hazel stick and the foot of an old stocking.
They both froze, as they looked at each other in mutual horror.
It was the boy who broke first and letting out a gasp, ran back wide eyed with terror shouting “Run for yer lives –its Th’divil or a boggart or summat, wi is doins angin out!”
The Schoolteacher was mortified by this sudden intrusion into, What had
so far been a peaceful and pleasant walk. She tried in vain to calm the horrified kids as the girls began to scream and some of the boys, thinking their worst fears were realised, had already bolted in terror.
She cautiously approached the stile to see what had caused the alarm and, peering around the bush she saw the awful sight that stopped her in her tracks!
The boy might have judged correctly, she thought!
She beheld Bertie, one leg cocked and the neck hole of his pullover gaping lewdly, and stuck with his boot caught on the top rung of the stile
The teacher was torn between the awfulness of what she saw and a fascination bordering on delight at the spectacle.
The tableau was frozen for a while as the participants imbibed the moment that they both new would haunt their darkest dreams forever, but the teacher broke first with a shriek of righteous indignation I know you! She called, You awful man “Shame—Shame on you, you fiend frightening children like that! Begone!” She was failing to suppress the smile that, as the appalled Bertie pulled his gaping neckhole together, started to spread across her face and, as he turned back across the stile, dissolved into helpless mirth!
He needed no further encouragement as, glancing back he saw the horrified gaggle of the white-faced children staring at him in fascination across the hedge. He fled splashing through the beck and away up the pasture in panic with his stick, his bandy pullover clad legs dripping with water. Green weeds from the beck had festooned his bottom bestowing upon him the appearance of a long tail like some hideous satyr like mythical creature, only his flat cap to betray his origins!
He arrived back at his cottage panting and soaked to find the wife waiting for him having come home a bit earlier than expected. His heart sank as he saw her standing, waiting. The broom was in her hands and she knew how to use it!
She looked goggle eyed at the approaching Bertie and wondered in her slow mind what awful fate could have befallen him in her short absence as, in all their years of a marriage in which they just and only just tolerated each other She had never seen such a display! She was a creature of little imagination but this sight had at first shocked her but then she began to appreciate the ridiculous spectacle she began to chuckle! This dumbfounded the dripping Bertie as the only other time he remembered her laughing was when he fell into the cesspit . He stood before her stock still watching the tears of mirth roll down her cheeks! He was genuinely amazed and a bit scared but not knowing how to deal with this strange situation he began to grin himself. As his dull mind took in the preposterousness of the scene the grin became roars of hysterical laughter as he capered from foot to foot in his huge hobnailed boots as the wife doubled over in breathless hysteria!
They eventually retreated into the cottage holding each other up and repaired to bed.
Not a single word was spoken of the incident ever again by either of them.
The school was agog with the tale that was becoming more and more lurid with the telling. The exaggerated descriptions of the grim sight on the stile had imbued Bertie with legendary attributes and an athleticism that would have defeated an Olympic champion but alas he was forever unaware of his legendary status,© MPL.
Another outrageous yarn no doubt embellished by the telling over the years! Never let the truth stand in the way of a good story eh??
There was a farmer called Bertie living in the dale, who was fond of a pint or two and over fond of his food resulting in his “Carrying a bit of condition”.
One day his wife was away visiting her sister in Kentmere, before she left she picked up and took out the rubbish but on her way out, an old lunchpack that had been overlooked dropped from the bag as she scurried out in haste. Bertie had been left food for the day in the pantry, but seeing the parcel on the kitchen floor he picked it up and looking inside it he found two boiled eggs and some bread and some cheese that looked a bit green and some wet ham! He concluded that the dog had been after his lunch and aiming a kick and a selection of awful oaths at the departing animal he sat down and ate the somewhat dry and smelly repast with a mug of black tea, “Bugger! He thought, bloody dog eatin’ at me bait!”
He shortly bethought himself that the cat was now away and this particular mouse had a couple of bob stashed away and Bert intended to take full advantage of the day! A few pints would do him good and with no wife to nag at him he felt even better.
Ignoring the rumbling in his belly he strode forth in good humour! He walked briskly along through the sunny lanes smelling the cut grass and the sun on the good earth and he felt great to be alive! He sat for a while on the bench and watched the activity in the valley spread before him!
Striding boldly into the pub he was greeted well by the old topers at the bar and bought himself a pint. Not to be over generous, He thought, not offering to buy anybody a drink as it was doubtful if any generosity would be returned! He had another and started feeling well pleased despite the growling spasms in his belly. Two or three more followed and “Reet good they were to”
As he emerged he smelled the fresh air and a bit of smoke on the breeze and he felt a great good humour upon him. He filled and lit his old pipe with a feeling of satisfaction. The disturbance in his belly he put down to the copious draughts he had consumed and strode forth onto the cobbles his hobnails rattling loudly.
As he proceeded the disturbance in his belly had moved in a most alarming manner and was causing him to retrace his steps back to the pub and its toilet!
He began to hurry as the spasms became more severe and as he rounded the bend he inhaled a puff of Bruno from his pipe and then the worst thing happened—He coughed.
Stopping dead in his tracks he realised that there was no longer any need for haste and he looked around for a refuge to make good his considerable discomfort, Seeing the pigpens he sloped in walking gingerly and stripped off his reeking britches and flung them from him in disgust. No wearing them now, he thought as they flapped over into the mire at the end of the sty. The curious pigs looked on in horror as he began to cleanse the awful mess from himself. The smell of the befouled trousers mingled with that of the malodorous pigshit and made his head spin. He stood naked from the waist down, bar his big black boots besmirched with pigshit and mud.
Then he realised the extent of his plight as he saw that the pigs had pulled the trousers into the pen and had rent them into rags.
He only had his jacket and a hairy long sleeved pullover over his linen shirt and he didn’t know what to do to get home without being seen.
Bert’s great good humour was dissipating fast as, having now removed his boots he felt the awful mire oozing between his toes as the pigs looked interestedly on while digesting the remnants of his trousers.
He took stock of his clothes and options and suddenly inspiration took him.
Taking the pullover he reversed it and forced his muck befouled legs into the sleeves and pulled it up!
He was quite pleased with the result and looked down at his tightly clad legs with the satisfaction only beer can impart. Pulling on his filthy boots he took his stick and made forth surreptitiously onto the deserted cobbles and quickly strode towards the footpath by the bridge. The neck of the pullover had been pulled up quite tightly and was affording a lot of ventilation to the nether parts and was alarming him greatly, “nivver mind” he muttered, gets home soon and no one will be the wiser.
He scuttled down beech hill and took to the footpath thinking all was well and so far no one had spotted him.
As he was negotiating the ladder stile with one leg cocked dangerously up and the neckhole yawning alarmingly, he saw a schoolboy appear on the path with a fishing net made from a hazel stick and the foot of an old stocking.
They both froze, as they looked at each other in mutual horror.
It was the boy who broke first and letting out a gasp, ran back wide eyed with terror shouting “Run for yer lives –its Th’divil or a boggart or summat, wi is doins angin out!”
The Schoolteacher was mortified by this sudden intrusion into, What had
so far been a peaceful and pleasant walk. She tried in vain to calm the horrified kids as the girls began to scream and some of the boys, thinking their worst fears were realised, had already bolted in terror.
She cautiously approached the stile to see what had caused the alarm and, peering around the bush she saw the awful sight that stopped her in her tracks!
The boy might have judged correctly, she thought!
She beheld Bertie, one leg cocked and the neck hole of his pullover gaping lewdly, and stuck with his boot caught on the top rung of the stile
The teacher was torn between the awfulness of what she saw and a fascination bordering on delight at the spectacle.
The tableau was frozen for a while as the participants imbibed the moment that they both new would haunt their darkest dreams forever, but the teacher broke first with a shriek of righteous indignation I know you! She called, You awful man “Shame—Shame on you, you fiend frightening children like that! Begone!” She was failing to suppress the smile that, as the appalled Bertie pulled his gaping neckhole together, started to spread across her face and, as he turned back across the stile, dissolved into helpless mirth!
He needed no further encouragement as, glancing back he saw the horrified gaggle of the white-faced children staring at him in fascination across the hedge. He fled splashing through the beck and away up the pasture in panic with his stick, his bandy pullover clad legs dripping with water. Green weeds from the beck had festooned his bottom bestowing upon him the appearance of a long tail like some hideous satyr like mythical creature, only his flat cap to betray his origins!
He arrived back at his cottage panting and soaked to find the wife waiting for him having come home a bit earlier than expected. His heart sank as he saw her standing, waiting. The broom was in her hands and she knew how to use it!
She looked goggle eyed at the approaching Bertie and wondered in her slow mind what awful fate could have befallen him in her short absence as, in all their years of a marriage in which they just and only just tolerated each other She had never seen such a display! She was a creature of little imagination but this sight had at first shocked her but then she began to appreciate the ridiculous spectacle she began to chuckle! This dumbfounded the dripping Bertie as the only other time he remembered her laughing was when he fell into the cesspit . He stood before her stock still watching the tears of mirth roll down her cheeks! He was genuinely amazed and a bit scared but not knowing how to deal with this strange situation he began to grin himself. As his dull mind took in the preposterousness of the scene the grin became roars of hysterical laughter as he capered from foot to foot in his huge hobnailed boots as the wife doubled over in breathless hysteria!
They eventually retreated into the cottage holding each other up and repaired to bed.
Not a single word was spoken of the incident ever again by either of them.
The school was agog with the tale that was becoming more and more lurid with the telling. The exaggerated descriptions of the grim sight on the stile had imbued Bertie with legendary attributes and an athleticism that would have defeated an Olympic champion but alas he was forever unaware of his legendary status,© MPL.
Monday, 28 January 2013
Blogging again!
Well a lot of time has passed since I was last inspired to blog and a lot has happened!
The session in the Edinburgh has been visited quite reguarly and I am enjoying the opportunity to bang away on the big OM. Although its jigs and reels as a rule and I am more of a hornpipe man myself.
The afternoon session in the Belvedere is great and as a singers "Round" it is gathering momentum as yet another "Folk Revival" kicks in. There are a good crowd there and the songs are all well researched and its quite an eclectic mix of music , couple that with a selection of great ales currently dispensed by the excellent Joe and the lovely Kelly-- ex of the famous Everyman bistro , and you have a winner!!
The Baltic shanty night run by Derek and Julia (Trim rig and a Doxy) is changing this week from the last Saturday of the month to the first so we get back to back sessions in Jan/Feb. Another great night with the benefit of Wapping brewery churning out the finest brews just under your feet!!!
Watch out for the Ellesmere port shanty sessions later in the spring, more to follow on that one.
I remember back in 65 we were playing in the Court house in Commutation row Glyn Hughes the composer of "Whiskey on a Sunday" used to pop in from time to time as he was well known to some of the luminaries Like Frank Shaw and his friends. I was reminded on Saturday night by one of the Belvedere regulars , Mathew Edwards , that there was a picture of "Seth Davy" and the dancing dolls . Heres a link to a good song and liverpool history site. Thanks all!!
http://aliverpoolfolksongaweek.blogspot.co.uk/
The session in the Edinburgh has been visited quite reguarly and I am enjoying the opportunity to bang away on the big OM. Although its jigs and reels as a rule and I am more of a hornpipe man myself.
The afternoon session in the Belvedere is great and as a singers "Round" it is gathering momentum as yet another "Folk Revival" kicks in. There are a good crowd there and the songs are all well researched and its quite an eclectic mix of music , couple that with a selection of great ales currently dispensed by the excellent Joe and the lovely Kelly-- ex of the famous Everyman bistro , and you have a winner!!
The Baltic shanty night run by Derek and Julia (Trim rig and a Doxy) is changing this week from the last Saturday of the month to the first so we get back to back sessions in Jan/Feb. Another great night with the benefit of Wapping brewery churning out the finest brews just under your feet!!!
Watch out for the Ellesmere port shanty sessions later in the spring, more to follow on that one.
I remember back in 65 we were playing in the Court house in Commutation row Glyn Hughes the composer of "Whiskey on a Sunday" used to pop in from time to time as he was well known to some of the luminaries Like Frank Shaw and his friends. I was reminded on Saturday night by one of the Belvedere regulars , Mathew Edwards , that there was a picture of "Seth Davy" and the dancing dolls . Heres a link to a good song and liverpool history site. Thanks all!!
http://aliverpoolfolksongaweek.blogspot.co.uk/
Monday, 27 February 2012
Back again after a bit of a break.
Went to a concert in the magnificent concert room at St Georges hall Liverpool . Mc Goldrick McCusker and Doyle. What a session!! These are world class musicians and it was clear to the enraptured audience! John Doyles fascinating guitar athletics were a joy to behold and the uillian piping of Mike McGoldrick was clear and presice and lacked the usual "Strangled cat" skrikings so common in many sessions!
Before the main band we were treated to an impromptu set by Gino ; Maeve and John who were in the city for a Irish seas session workshop and what a treat that was , Buy one Get one free at its very best! Ginos Bhodran playing has always been exceptional and this was clear in this set! Maeves fiddling was superbly fluid and bejeweled with spectacular gracenotes and improv's . John who was grabbed and dragged on stage at the last minute played a superb backing complimenting the fiddle/bhodran swoopings perfectly! A Big thanks from me for a superb night!
Off to the Shanty night in the "Baltic fleet" next another good night with the fine ales of the Wapping brewery to help the night along . A bit crowded and starting to outgrow the excellent "Baltic" A queue for singing places meant I diddnt get a go this time but never mind that let them off without my caterwaulings ;-) An august gathering for the last Saturday of the month . I saw Hughie Jones ex of the Spinners lurking in the back bar and Bernie Davies gave a good spot too Eight belles gave us a few shanties and endless other excellent floor singers made for a lively night.
Went to a concert in the magnificent concert room at St Georges hall Liverpool . Mc Goldrick McCusker and Doyle. What a session!! These are world class musicians and it was clear to the enraptured audience! John Doyles fascinating guitar athletics were a joy to behold and the uillian piping of Mike McGoldrick was clear and presice and lacked the usual "Strangled cat" skrikings so common in many sessions!
Before the main band we were treated to an impromptu set by Gino ; Maeve and John who were in the city for a Irish seas session workshop and what a treat that was , Buy one Get one free at its very best! Ginos Bhodran playing has always been exceptional and this was clear in this set! Maeves fiddling was superbly fluid and bejeweled with spectacular gracenotes and improv's . John who was grabbed and dragged on stage at the last minute played a superb backing complimenting the fiddle/bhodran swoopings perfectly! A Big thanks from me for a superb night!
Off to the Shanty night in the "Baltic fleet" next another good night with the fine ales of the Wapping brewery to help the night along . A bit crowded and starting to outgrow the excellent "Baltic" A queue for singing places meant I diddnt get a go this time but never mind that let them off without my caterwaulings ;-) An august gathering for the last Saturday of the month . I saw Hughie Jones ex of the Spinners lurking in the back bar and Bernie Davies gave a good spot too Eight belles gave us a few shanties and endless other excellent floor singers made for a lively night.
Thursday, 8 September 2011
Wednesday, 6 July 2011
Dentdale music and beer festival
Well----been and gone now--As predicted the weather turned and Saturday dawned with a rotating weather system that just kept rolling around the Huge green bowl that is Dentdale and soaking everybody to the skin. The festival site was getting well churned up as the kids ran round in their brightly coloured wellies but everybody had fun and the music was great! Dick Goughan's set was well recieved and the beer flowed!
The food was superb thanks to the lovely Kate and her girls and boys who made all the produce freshly and cooke some super burgers! Not your usual "Festival specials" that you can taste a week later , but really good and well seasoned. The morrocan lamb wraps were great too!
I attended a couple of sessions in the "Sun Inn" and had a great time
. We had Small pipes and banjos a fiddler par exelence and a raft of guitar/vocalists --and my humble contribution on Portuguese mandolin and harmonica.
Roll on next years sessions --hopefully in better weather!!
The food was superb thanks to the lovely Kate and her girls and boys who made all the produce freshly and cooke some super burgers! Not your usual "Festival specials" that you can taste a week later , but really good and well seasoned. The morrocan lamb wraps were great too!
I attended a couple of sessions in the "Sun Inn" and had a great time
. We had Small pipes and banjos a fiddler par exelence and a raft of guitar/vocalists --and my humble contribution on Portuguese mandolin and harmonica.
Roll on next years sessions --hopefully in better weather!!
Saturday, 18 June 2011
Dentdale beer and music festival creeps closer
First we have the CAMRA night in the Everyman bistro on Wednesday 22nd ---Drinking in the last chance saloon in the most literal sense of the expression!! countdown to closure continues and another fine Liverpool traditon dies.
Its a kind of "Warm up" for the attack on the barrels up in Cumbria! Fingers crossed for good weather. This side of hell there is no worse place in the rain , Beer or no beer!!
Camping is the way forward here to stay in the loop and enjoy the best of the "Festival" atmosphere like the old days when we slept in barns and hedges and howled at the moon ;-) I have some insect repellant that I got in Bangkok to see off the mozzies , It worked well apart from the backs of my legs which I forgot to cover and they sneaked in under my chair and begulged my blood unhindered through the gap in my defenses --My bad!--- No such mistakes will be made in Dent however I know them and they know me and I just know that they have me marked up for supper.
My bro. and I will pace ourselves to keep the momentum going for the evening sessions in the Sun Inn or the George and Dragon. I am looking forward to laying down my mandolin in favour of a few old favourites at the top of our voices! There could be naked hoochies dancing on the stage and Y' still wont lure me down there if theres a good session in the boozer!!
We used to be able to get a good shanty session going in the Drunken duck back in the day but sometimes the musicians take themselves toooooo seriously to have fun! Play the music --yes! But leave space for ragarse time.
Sedbergh have their folk fest the same days because they pinched the idea from Dent to grab the revenue (Allegedly) on the grounds that Dent is too small to sustain the crowds ---Ha! High Laning camp is the best in the Dales for facilities and central location , And Dent is uberquaint . Sedbergh lacks that medieavil charm--Its big plus is that it is easier to get out of!!!
Its a kind of "Warm up" for the attack on the barrels up in Cumbria! Fingers crossed for good weather. This side of hell there is no worse place in the rain , Beer or no beer!!
Camping is the way forward here to stay in the loop and enjoy the best of the "Festival" atmosphere like the old days when we slept in barns and hedges and howled at the moon ;-) I have some insect repellant that I got in Bangkok to see off the mozzies , It worked well apart from the backs of my legs which I forgot to cover and they sneaked in under my chair and begulged my blood unhindered through the gap in my defenses --My bad!--- No such mistakes will be made in Dent however I know them and they know me and I just know that they have me marked up for supper.
My bro. and I will pace ourselves to keep the momentum going for the evening sessions in the Sun Inn or the George and Dragon. I am looking forward to laying down my mandolin in favour of a few old favourites at the top of our voices! There could be naked hoochies dancing on the stage and Y' still wont lure me down there if theres a good session in the boozer!!
We used to be able to get a good shanty session going in the Drunken duck back in the day but sometimes the musicians take themselves toooooo seriously to have fun! Play the music --yes! But leave space for ragarse time.
Sedbergh have their folk fest the same days because they pinched the idea from Dent to grab the revenue (Allegedly) on the grounds that Dent is too small to sustain the crowds ---Ha! High Laning camp is the best in the Dales for facilities and central location , And Dent is uberquaint . Sedbergh lacks that medieavil charm--Its big plus is that it is easier to get out of!!!
Tuesday, 7 June 2011
I like to see the brown earth roll over to the cleaving of the plow
I like to see the grass roll to the chewing of the ewe
The hawthorn stripped to the twig by the browsing of the beasts
The chettering of the pies above in the nest as the cows pull the tender green feast
The soft wind on the cheek The spicy tang of the burning ling
The gobbling of the last grouse as they take clattering to the wing
The windscattered rooks like black ash flying before the gale
The sloshing of the new milk and the clanking of the pail
The sienged smell of a crisp ironed pillow when the owl calls
The parafin smoke wisps as the oil lamp is snuffed till next evening falls.
MPL
I like to see the grass roll to the chewing of the ewe
The hawthorn stripped to the twig by the browsing of the beasts
The chettering of the pies above in the nest as the cows pull the tender green feast
The soft wind on the cheek The spicy tang of the burning ling
The gobbling of the last grouse as they take clattering to the wing
The windscattered rooks like black ash flying before the gale
The sloshing of the new milk and the clanking of the pail
The sienged smell of a crisp ironed pillow when the owl calls
The parafin smoke wisps as the oil lamp is snuffed till next evening falls.
MPL
Friday, 3 June 2011
Monday, 23 May 2011
Dentdale music and beer festival coming up!!
http://www.dentmusicandbeer.com/
Well is doesnt get much better than that! Lots of good beer and some great Folk and country artists on stage!! Nearby camping and handy pubs. All we need is the weather and its all good!
One tip however is get a VERY good insect repellent and citronella candles. The midges are the kamikazi variety and as the sun sets they descend in their millions!! They aint allowed in the pubs though even the ones who can sing and play the banjo ;-)
Well is doesnt get much better than that! Lots of good beer and some great Folk and country artists on stage!! Nearby camping and handy pubs. All we need is the weather and its all good!
One tip however is get a VERY good insect repellent and citronella candles. The midges are the kamikazi variety and as the sun sets they descend in their millions!! They aint allowed in the pubs though even the ones who can sing and play the banjo ;-)
Monday, 9 May 2011
Spring on the waterfront
Well the final day of the waterfront festival was yesterday and a fine festival it was too! The weather was fair and the sun smiled down on us for most of the time.
Tall ships were spectacular and some were open to the public. A great opportunity to see the inside of the fine three masted ships of yesterday. There were trips aboard the vessels taking four or five hours and working trips for longer if required
The stage in the dock basin was for the shanty festival and many great bands from around the counrry entertained us with songs of the sea.
My highlight however was the informal shanty nights in the Baltic fleet pub largely organised by Bernie Davies and friends which took me back to the old days along the dock road in pubs long gone like "The trawler" AKA Dominic Reagans --which hosted these kind od informal shanty nights back in the 60s.
A great time was had by all and I am looking forward to the next sessions later in the year!
My highlight however was the informal shanty nights in the Baltic fleet pub largely organised by Bernie Davies and friends which took me back to the old days along the dock road in pubs long gone like "The trawler" AKA Dominic Reagans --which hosted these kind od informal shanty nights back in the 60s.
Sunday, 27 March 2011
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