Phil Ochs – star of The Beaulieu Folk Festival 1966

The first folk music festival I ever attended was in 1966 at Lord Beaulieu’s estate in the New Forest. Jazz festivals had been held there since the late 1950s, culminating in the so-called ‘Battle of Beaulieu’ in 1960, when rival gangs of modern and traditional jazz fans indulged in a spot of what sociologists went on to call ‘subcultural contestation’. The folk weekend I went to was something of a washout with almost constant rain, but that didn’t dull our enthusiasm even though my friend and I had no tent and slept crammed together with hundreds of other fans like giant maggots in a large marquee.

On the bill at Beaulieu were, among others, Julie Felix, Rambling Jack Elliot and Phil Ochs. Both men later had problems with drink, in Ochs’ case a contributing factor to his suicide in 1976, but at the festival the booze ran free and for most of us left no more than sore heads come the morning. At one time Ochs was seen as a serious rival to Bob Dylan, especially as a political activist, which Dylan never really was. (According to legend, Dylan once threw Ochs out of his limousine following a disagreement in which he accused his fellow singer-songwriter of being ‘nothing but a journalist’ – which wasn’t so way off the mark as it happens as that was Ochs’s first occupation.) He wrote hundreds of songs, often with insightful and witty lyrics, and supported many civil rights and anti-war events, etc. After years of prolific writing in the 1960s, Ochs’s mental stability declined in the 1970s. He eventually succumbed to a number of problems including bipola disorder and alcoholism. Some of Ochs’ major influences were Woody Guthrie, Pete Seeger, Buddy Holly, Elvis Presley, Bob Gibson, Faron Young, Merle Haggard, John Wayne and JohnF.Kennedy. His best known songs include ‘I Ain’t Marching Anymore’, ‘Changes’, Crucifixion’, ‘Draft Doidger Rag’, ‘Love Me I’m A Liberal’, ‘Outside A Small Circle Of Friends’, ‘Power And The Glory’, The War Is Over’, and ‘There But For Fortune’.

This event at Beaulieu is the location for the opening scene of Song Tales – Volume Two (provisionally titled ‘The Singer-Songwriter’s First Love’) where Alwyn Stevens (me) meets up with the young lady who is later to take both the romantic and vocal lead in the story. Though details are a long way from being worked out, it’s likely there’ll be at least a couple of suspicious deaths and more trans-Atlantic forays. I’ll also be raiding my teenage years for adventures in the music business and travels around the country. There will, too, be stories of musicians, song-writers, real and imagined, along with a ragbag of other saints and sinners.

Since publication my book has been distributed to friends and family for their approval and, I’m happy to say, most responses have been positive. Some criticisms were either of a minor nature (a few typographical and grammatical errors) or personal preferences, e.g. one reader did not like the footnotes appearing at the end of the book, though others did. A long-time friend, who actually appears in the story under an assumed name, couldn’t recall all the events or characters mentioned (some were fictional) but was surprised at how much detail had been remembered. He also admitted that one of his main interests was finding himself mentioned – even if his personality had been somewhat exaggerated. Other more serious (but still minor) errors were noted by my step-sister who had been invaluable in making available family history records, especially with regards my father. She also said she saw problems in mixing fact and fiction so closely – an issue I had wrestled with when writing – but since many other authors have also done this I decided to continue. In any case, the story which emerged tells a deeper truth, I believe, even if not factually accurate in some regards.

Overall I’m happy with the responses, both to the book and CD and, if given the chance, will incorporate many of the suggestions in any subsequent edition. At present I’m still waiting for replies from agents and publishers as I would prefer to have backing rather than try and promote it independently. Also, if professional support is forthcoming they will no doubt have views on editing, etc.

In the meantime I find myself at something of a loose end. I’ve begun working on the next in the series – provisionally titled, ‘The Singer-Songwriter’s First Love’ – which carries on where Volume One left off, when I was about nineteen years old. As the title infers, there will be more about relationships in this next one. I’m also planning a couple of suspicious deaths – murder or suicide? Early demise, as noted before, is hardly novel in the wonderful world of music and tragedy often seems to be lurking behind the stage curtain. Other than that, I’m planning new characters and trying to recall events of my youth. Things certainly got out of hand back then on some occasions, which was painful at the time but should make interesting reading now.

‘Pop Goes The Weasel – The Secret Meaning of Nursery Rhymes’ by Albert Jack has a lot more meat on the bone than one might think. There’s plenty of satire and intrigue in these old songs, many of which refer to quite adult themes such as adultery, execution and mass killings over religion, politics, and so on. For example, Humpty Dumpty was not a giant egg but acquired that image from an illustration in Lewis Carroll’s ‘Through The Looking Glass’ by Sir John Tenniel. The real Humpty Dumpty was a powerful cannon used by Royalist forces during the English Civil War of 1642 to 1651 to defend the town of Colchester, the gun being placed atop a church tower. The Round Heads attacked the town for eleven weeks without success until eventually blowing away the top of the tower sending Humpty Dumpty crashing to the ground. The Royalists were never able to ‘put Humpty back together again’ and were soon overrun by Government soldiers.

Such songs brought news and views (often subversive) in a playfully disguised form. The hidden meanings or references have, in most cases, been long forgotten. In many the song appears to be nonsense. ‘Jack and Jill’ for example may not make much sense now but it has been suggested the boy and girl were Louis XVI of Fance and his queen Marie Antoinete who lost their heads in public executions (they came tumbling down). More possible meanings have been given this rhyme but, as with others, no one really knows now. However, one thing is certain, most nursery rhymes are not nonsense nor meant originally for children – it’s just that initial references have been lost in the mists of time.

The book, by the way, is highly recommended and just goes to show that satirical song writing has been around a very long time.