Crazy Creatures

This photo of Sunshine Express was taken over twenty years ago on some farm down in Kent I seem to remember. It was a band that played music for kids, touring schools, etc, using lots of traditional and wacky homemade instruments. I’m the idiot wielding a broom on the left and the fork strummer was Stefan Friedman – the two of us were the bands mainstays and at various times others joined us (in this version Chris Speller was on bass and John Armes played drums).

Since those days I’ve mostly been teaching Design Technology at a Gateshead special school (just singing and playing on the side) but was also in charge of music at a primary school in Oxfordshire. Now I’ve been asked to teach music again which should be fun. I have loads of resources built up over the years – songs, plays, stories, etc – which could be revived and new material written. First task, however, apart from checking out the QCA schemes of work and so on, is to reacquaint myself with Christmas carols since they will be a priority during the Autumn term.

All this may seem a far cry from ‘The Singer Songwriter’s Last Stand’ but maybe not. Woody Guthrie, my all-time folk hero, wrote lots of children’s songs. Performing for children can be enjoyable but it’s no easier than for adults as kids sure let you know how they feel and can be brutally honest. You also have the added problems of keeping control, as in any classroom, and delivering lessons acceptable by the powers that be (entertaining or not they still have to be educational). But, by and large, I’m looking forward to returning to teaching music – and it may serve to get me back into offering workshops in other venues. My main focus remains adult songs and fiction writing, but I’d be happy to perform for children as well. Despite music for children not being taken very seriously by most people in this country (there’s far more  of it in the States and Europe) it offers huge creative opportunities, freeing songwriters from the narrow constraints most adult genres allow.

Just back from holiday in South West France with Sofie, the initial idea being to visit Carcassonne and other sites depicted in ‘The Labyrinth’, an historical novel by author Kate Mosse. The following brief synopsis from her website says:

‘On the eve of a brutal crusade that will rip apart southern France, a young woman named Alais is given a ring and a mysterious book for safekeeping by her father. The book, he says, contains the secret of the true Grail, and the ring, inscribed with a labyrinth, will identify a guardian of the Grail. Now, as crusading armies gather outside the city walls of Carcassonne, it will take a tremendous sacrifice to keep the secret of the labyrinth safe.’ The old fortified town and other medieval places we visited were picturesque – some impossibly so – and often full of restaurants, bars and gift shops but thankfully not too crowded.

Whilst there we also visited the Niaux cave, about twenty miles south of Foix in the Pyrenees and known for the quality of its Magdalenian paintings, depictions made more than 12,000 years ago. A rough 800 metre path leads to the Salon Noir, site of the paintings which are of international level. Drawn in black lines, more than 100 images depict the large mammals of the Magdalenian fauna.

Asked why the prehistoric men had ventured so far into the cave to paint their pictures, our guide admitted that experts did not really know. One speculation, however, was that this particular high-domed chamber had exceptional acoustics, similar to a cathedral or good concert hall and would have been ideal for music making. He invited visitors to test the theory by singing but, as everyone was too shy, demonstrated himself by letting out a long ‘oooh’ which did indeed resonate with an almost supernatural power.

Most theories as to why these paintings were made assumed some sort of mystical purpose involving shamanic rituals – the animals drawn as later civilizations might depict gods of various kinds. However, it occurred to me that some young people today go to great lengths making graffiti – the most common ones being identity tags. Such marks are a kind of initiation rite, as well as a devil-may-care act of rebellion, and maybe the cave paintings (most of which were simple dots and lines rather than representational images) served the same purpose. To my mind the most significant aspect of these paintings was not the works themselves, despite their raw power, but the fact they were so far underground in the first place. All the artists had were simple oil lamps to guide them, yet they climbed hundreds of metres through unknown and complex passages, never knowing what danger or creatures maybe they might meet (natural or unnatural). Nor did they embark on their journeys for any obvious gain, as with hunting, fishing and other potentially dangerous activities (which could in any case be done during daylight). The night must have been a time of great fear for our ancestors, so venturing into the darkness underground cannot have been done without good reason and much bravery.

‘The ‘Petit Sorcier á l’Arc Musical’ in the Cave of the Trois-Frères may be the earliest pictographic representation of a musical bow’, says  Nathan Phinney in his ‘History of the Guitar’. ‘A man, appearing to be dressed up in animal skins, seems to be playing an instrument protruding from his mouth. It is debated whether or not the man is playing a one stringed lute/guitar, some kind of wind instrument, or rather is simply carrying a hunting bow. The cave paintings are thought to date back 14,000 years.’ To my eyes the object doesn’t look much like an instrument, maybe not even a bow. But it’s difficult to tell because the drawings are higgledy-piggledy and overlapping. Incidentally, our guide at Niaux had no convincing explanation why paintings overlapped, nor why many were unfinished. Perhaps, as I speculated earlier, we shouldn’t view them as artistic creations (nor done for an audience, being so far underground) but as evidence of endeavour. They may have been part of a ritual, as many have speculated, where the spirit of venerated animals was being evoked (most of the animals were not actually hunted) or worshipped. If ceremonies were carried out during the time of painting, then it seems possible the acoustic qualities of the chamber could have been important, as noted earlier.

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.

 Elijah Wald, in his great book about Robert Johnson, ‘Escaping The Delta’, makes the point that most blues players like Johnson aspired to be the pop stars of their day. On discovering blues music in the Sixties many of their mainly white middle-class fans were happy to go along with the legends of struggling, poverty-stricken, musicians who sold their soul to the devil and played on street corners for loose change – dying in bar-room brawls or from drink or drugs, etc. However, these blues musicians were keen to distance themselves from their humble beginnings, often wearing smart suits and driving expensive cars as soon as they could afford them. Many bands too, such as the Stones, Fleetwood Mac and Led Zeppelin, etc, which took most of their initial inspiration from blues artists like Robert Johnson, though they sang about street life were soon buying expensive real estate and becoming part of the establishment.

In my book, ‘The Singer-Songwriter’s Last Stand’, I tell the tale of a young guitar strumming blues enthusiast who bums around seeking his fortune. I say, ‘It didn’t take much intelligence to see, reading the lyrics of most blues numbers, these guys had incredibly tough and evenbleak lives – yet many youngsters like me were not deterred.’ However, despite our dedication, maybe we were  missing the point?

Incidentally, any similarity between this much reproduced picture of Robert Johnson and the illustration of Geronimo on my book cover is entirely intentional.

 John G. Lowe (accordionist and narrator of ballads)

Positive comments included; ‘The book’s Prologue is extremely interesting, leads you into the book and wanting more. I found the subject matter fascinating and, in all honesty, didn’t want to put it down. I would probably recommend anybody to read this book, irrespective of whether they are interested in the subject matter, or just want a good read.’

 The chief negative comment was over the footnotes at the back of the book. ‘By their very nature,’ says the reader, ‘they should be at the bottom of the page or, preferably, included as part of the text.’ In my defence, I had great difficulty with this matter myself and in the end decided placing the footnotes at the end for two reasons; first, some were too long to place at the foot of pages (or within the main text) without interfering greatly with page layout and, secondly, I intend eventually to publish the book digitally and these notes will by accessed by links (not only to text but also music and audio-visual clips, etc) and so the present arrangement was a temporary expedient only.

 Dave Minikin (folk singer and club organiser)

Positive; ‘I like it very much, what I have read. It hits the nostalgia buttons, big time. I like the honesty and also the naivity of what you have written and the way you have written it. I do not like the fact that the text is not justified, but that is a personal thing. I like justification as it tends to look messy otherwise. The pictures are good as well and fit in well.

 Negative; ‘I am not sure about the CD. I think it is rather loud and does not do you justice. Again a matter of taste.’

 As I said to Dave, the lack of text justification was simply an oversight and will be rectified for the next edition. With regards the CD, it was the best I could do in the short time and limited budget. Ideally I’d like to get more musicians involved and be able to take more time trying different approaches, etc. However, Dave is predominantly a traditional singer and has a certain view – and music is, after all, a very personal thing.

 Trev Reed (Few Broth singer and guitarist)

Trevor said simply; ‘I’m very impressed! I read the lot in two days. It’s all my era too so I could relate to everything in it. CD is excellent as well. Catch you at the Berkeley in a few weeks time.’

 Matthew Baker (my brother – big music fan but not a musician)

‘Really enjoyed the book and found it hard to put down. Enjoyed trying to work out what was autobiographical and what was fiction – some things I knew, obviously, but others I had no idea about.’ (He’s six years younger than me and wouldn’t have witnessed many of my adventures.) Consequently his only negative comment was that he wasn’t mentioned much – though my other brother is (he’s nearer my age).

My guitar's had a baby!

I bought this Lanikai ukelele at Window’s Music Shop in Newcastle for £180 a couple of weeks ago. I’d only gone in for a new harmonica but, as usual, couldn’t resist trying out various instruments. This one, which has eight paired strings, had a beautiful tone and seemed quite easy to play. The tuning is the standard, G C E A, which is similar to a guitar but three tones higher.

After trying out a few songs, discovering that for me the best keys to play were G and C, I christened the uke with a newly written number called ‘Heart and Soul’ which, though it was more limiting than on a guitar, gave it quite a dynamic feel. Naturally, it works best on up-tempo bluesy or humorous material. Anyway, two weeks after getting my new baby I’m still having fun.

RISK OF EXPLOSION

I’ve been passing this old industrial site for years and often wondered what it once was, and why the warning sign. When writing ‘The Singer-Songwriter’s Last Stand’ I asked people at local folk clubs. Someone told me they thought it was an old glass factory. Further research revealed that it was a specialist company, originally called ‘The Thermal Syndicate’, set up to exploit a process invented by Dr J F Bottomley for producing transluscent silica from high purity sand. Over the years the company changed its name and was merged with other companies and eventually closed down in the 1990s. Though some people recall occassional bangs from the site when it was still in production, the reasons were unclear and there seemed no danger to local residents or passers by.

The sign did give me an idea for a song however, partly based on Woody Guthrie’s composition ‘Lonesome Valley’ and also my own thoughts on the many dangers inherent in every human activity.

‘There’s a risk of explosion wherever you go,                                                                                         But the risk of going nowhere is the worst risk I know…’

This is the song I entered for the Woody Guthrie Folk Festival in Okemah, Oklahoma in 2010 and won third prize. I then travelled to the USA to play at the festival – a great experience (wish I could afford to go again one day).

Intro:
I am walking down this road there are tears in my eyes…
Trying to read a letter from my home.
If this train runs me right I’ll be home tomorrow night,
Coz I’m nine hundred miles from my home.

Woody Guthrie was a hard-travelling man,
Riding the rails with a guitar in his hand.
Saying, ‘This machine kills fascists just as sure as any gun.’
But his songs of liberation sure never harmed anyone.

C. Ooh ooh, can’t you hear that lonesome whistle blow?
Ooh ooh, still got a long, long way to go.

Woody Guthrie, was singing all the time,
This land is your land and this land is mine.
He sang up for the workers, the down-trodden and the poor.
And his songs of liberation still keep a-knocking down that door.

Woody Guthrie had his hard times too,
And grapes of wrath he sure tasted a few.
Never knew much fame or fortune as a dustbowl refugee,
But his songs of liberation, oh what a priceless legacy.

Woody passed away in Sixty-Seven,
He’s flat picking now way up in Okie heaven.
Yes, he’s bound for glory on that good old gospel train,
With his songs of liberation – let’s all hear them once again.

Link to track:

https://soundcloud.com/mauricebaker-1/hard-traveling-man