Thursday, 26th January
FaB Club Special
featuring:
Joe Migdal
FaB Club Special
It’s a cold Thursday evening and a vicious Easterly wind that welcomes us back to the Purple Room, although the atmosphere is warming and the 40 or so people inside are well settled into their seats, or (for latecomers) perching precariously on high stools, awaiting
the next FaB Club Special. This one is a little different from those that have gone before, in that we don’t have a specific leading guest artist, but four that we regard as ‘our own’, each with half an hour to fill with the best and most varied from their repertoire. Last minute instructions are being exchanged around the place...
I’m killing a half hour before things get under way and it does occur to me that reviews are a bit of an odd art. It’s almost impossible to convey the real feeling which washes around a session like this, especially when you’re dealing with performers of a decent calibre. The only way to really appreciate it is to be there – but meanwhile I can send you a postcard or two, and try and hit the high points…
There is a hum of conversation behind the setting up/sound checking which is going on at one side of the room, where a battery of seven guitars (plus another in a case, we found later) and a keyboard are stacked up like an armoury waiting to be deployed. The Purple Room is darker than usual (night will do that to you, of course!) although the sidelights have gone up – which is just as well because otherwise this review might be a little stifled. The pattern of instruments changes at half time, at which point I lost count, but we also needed
3 microphones, 1 PA system, 2 speakers, 1 mixing desk, 1 engineer to work same, 6 musicians and 1 compere.
I stopped short of counting the cables because it’s time to get a drink before the fun starts.
Enough rambling because we’re getting under way.
Debbie is the compere for the evening and having commented on how many old - sorry familiar – faces there are in the audience, requires everyone to play a new game: this involves taking out one’s mobile phone and announcing “Yes, it’s turned off”. She then introduces a duo that we all know well…
The first thing to say about Mikanora is that they are versatile – every song brings a shift between guitars, mandolin, bodhran, concertina and pipe – which means that the texture and sound changes each time as well, keeping the mood varied and changeable.
Their music is best characterised, I think, as ‘modern English folk’ – even the traditional tunes have a current edge to them.
Angry Man – This is the first of three songs written by Mick, and contained on his new CD
(recently reviewed on the FaB 2 website).
It’s not clear what exactly the angry man has to be angry about, but having dedicated it ‘to angry men everywhere’ Mick obviously feels it’s a widespread condition!
The song is driven along by guitar and bodhran (which gives it a regular and driving backbeat) and there is a steely crack to the sound of Mick’s electro-acoustic.
Down By The Sunny Gardens
Originally a poem by W B Yeats, this is a slower and more traditional piece, Nora producing a skilful display on a nylon-strung guitar. The vocals are divided between the two of them and this song marks the first appearance of the ‘ghost chorus’ – that is, the phenomenon where you can hear that some of the audience are singing along, discreetly, and you can’t actually see who is actually involved.
The whole piece is very pastoral in feel and very relaxing.
I’m A Hermit – Apparently this is
one of the more popular tracks from the Angry Man CD, driven by guitar and mandolin. Mick and Nora each claim not to understand what’s actually going on in this song, and the pece is uptempo and bouncy with tricky lyrics – culminating in the couplet
“Sit down by the road and pretend you’re a toad – or a Hermit”!
I’m venturing no interpretations but it’s compulsive stuff.
The Smugglers Song – Another piece which started off as a poem, this time by Kipling. Long reflective guitar notes hang on the air while the whistle conjures up the olden days.
There is a dark and menacing refrain – “watch the wall my darling while the gentlemen go by” – raising the ghosts on a cold night.
Talking of ghosts, the chorus is in action again.
Colwell Bay – One more original, this time drawing on childhood holidays in the eponymous location on
the
Hopping Down In Kent – and they finish up with a good and familiar singalong which has become a FaB staple. (“Tee I O, Tee I O, Tee I Ee I O” – and no-one admits to knowing what THAT’S about!). It’s a compulsive song (or as Mick puts it, “you’ll pick it up if you’re not very careful”). It’s jaunty mid-English folk – and yes, the chorus caught it!
The audience was duly appreciative and as Mikanora reached the end of their half-hour so Debbie orchestrated the applause, threatened to tell jokes if people didn’t settle down, and ushered on the next act -
Joe Migdal
Joe deploys a number of instruments to good effect, which makes it more difficult to characterise his music so easily. His versatility is striking and we did try and solve the mystery of how many instruments he CAN play, but I’m sure than more remain to be discovered.
The Train – this is a strong opening song, about death and what happens afterwards,
the idea of a train replacing the image of, as he says, floating up like a balloon.
Joe plays a 12 string with a strong and regular rhythm. I’ve finally worked out that his voice reminds me of Ian Anderson, and this song is less folk than acoustic rock, coming out somewhere between Jethro Tull, Leadbelly, and Yes (quite a lineage!).
The Ploughboys Dream – Joe maintains a droll and dry commentary as he swaps between instruments, powering up his electric keyboard and harmonium (as well as a microphone headset) for a traditional piece based around a meeting with an angel and the Devil
(within the space of five minutes).
The keyboard is suitably spooky with the edge of a fairground organ and underpins Joe’s suitably spectral vocal.
Natures Wonderland – Now this is where the eight guitar appears out of a guitar case, apparently bandaged to accommodate a pickup.
The song is the title track of Joe’s CD and describes an island called St Agnes which is in the Scilly Isles.
Apparently the Museum is playing this piece to accompany their slide shows and we can see why –
the audience is giving careful attention to a piece which paints very evocative pictures and makes good use of the amplification.
One Step To Oblivion – Joe mentions the subject of teenage love and the piece is intense and just a little menacing.
The backing is in the style of a fast Delta blues with fast and accurate finger picking.
Lark In The Morning – Joe is back on the keyboard for a traditional song and almost draws out the sound of a concertina from the circuitry.
The song has the feel of a country church with the faint sound of hymns on the breeze and
brings Joe’s set to a smooth and comfortable close.
Another half hour has flown by and it’s time for the Interval – heralded by two of the threatened jokes –
well, if you’re going to tell jokes about men going into bars, then I suppose the Orsett Cock is as good a place as any to do it – and there’s ten minutes to recharge the glasses and for the stage to be reset. Debbie calls us all to order and here we go again…
The explanation for the above name, we are told, is that with their respective lifestyles you can never guarantee to get more than one of them at a time – but tonight we are lucky and the team is back together.
The due open with a French song (the title of which I missed), Claudine firing up a strong strumming pattern with her trademark crystal vocal backed up by Tim’s mandolin work.
The volume has noticeably gone up in the second half – the band are playing electro-acoustics which can drive the sound without the risk of feedback that comes with miking instruments in this sort of room.
Lacking Claudine’s usual detailed explanation (of the sort we can benefit from on a Sunday session) I am completely confused by this song, but
it is a strong opener for the second half.
We Were Here Before You (Balinese Dawn) –
At Tim’s insistence, I have transcribed the exact genealogy of this song, EOU’s version of world music.
The words were written by Tim on a beach in
it’s a reflective song, casting another perspective on what we perceive (and what is really important in the long run?).
Tim lays down a careful background over which Claudine’s vocal rides as if on the tide itself.
Feathers – apparently this song was written by someone who suffered from hyperactivity before the condition was really recognised, and hence was pretty much untreated.
The title comes from his parent’s exhortation to go and lie in the meadow and listen for the feathers falling from the wings of angels.
Claudine did this one solo at the last Sunday club but this time she and Tim split the vocal line between them, and Tim plays a parlour size guitar with a highly set capo.
Another missing title, but at least I recognise this as
a French folk song which Claudine has previously delivered at a Sunday session (Bonsoir maitre de maison- note from the NFW).
Tim complains about the necessary retuning – bad enough singing in French, let alone playing in it!
The song is full of up-tempo cross-rhythms but Claudine fulfils her aim of getting people to clap and to sing – or at least ‘la’ – in French by the end of it.
Movie In The Making – the guitar goes back into normal (English?) tuning and Claudine takes up the recorder for a song with resonant guitar and slightly husky vocals. The song is about a relationship full of deceit, conscious or otherwise, with neither person’s expectations being properly fulfilled.
The Calling – This is a long-time FaB regular and FaB favourite, driven by guitar with Tim’s celtic-flavoured mandolin embroidered around it.
Claudine tries to get people to work out the four locations named in the song (which she sings in French and English as well) – well, someone got two of them and a few hints got the rest!
According to my notes it was the
At one point the singers are almost acapella before the instruments are kicked back in for the big finish.
Thirty minutes on and a little routine business as the raffle gets drawn, with the successful tickets happily spread around the room – and not even a cry of ‘fix’ (why do people always shout that?). Debbie calms everyone down again in time to bring on the last act, and ensuring that although last he is not least.
Simon has to start by announcing that he has been plagued by a virus all week, which explains the failing state of his usually strong voice.
The Storyteller – Simon apologises for what he calls a ‘A level chorus’ but comes up with a strong opener, all about “a ragged old vagabond off on his way”, harking back to the days when stories, like so many of the songs we rely on, relied entirely on oral tradition.
A strong 12-string rhythm moves us forward and an entire masterclass could be taught on the subject of hammering on bass notes within chordal accompaniments.
River
This song was written to remember two people who died young, and sets a mood which is both serene and sad.
The 12 string doubles everything, as 12 strings do, filling out the backing gently and melodically.
I wondered briefly if we’d slipped into an episode of Sharpe because the tune was reminiscent of the theme that we all got used to in that programme, and the story includes references to Sir Arthur Wellesley (Duke of Wellington) and the Provincial Wars.
A good modern take based in a historical truth.
Peace In Our Time – Simon went back to his 12 string for this song, with a very ‘60s sound that got the audience going again.
It’s actually a bitter little piece about Chamberlain’s famous (and much parodied) claims in 1938, set against
Dolphins Make Me Cry – A far gentler song to finish, with Simon battling on doggedly against his throat problems.
It is a very straightforward and declarative song, written by a contemporary songwriter called Martyn Joseph, and elucidating the contrast between the complexities of life above the surface and the apparent serenity of that below.
It’s the end of Simon’s half-hour but everyone is keen for more and he gets talked into an encore.
Encore – The last piece of the night recounts the story of Michael Tomlin, a fisherman of old in Leigh on Sea who returned from a fishing trip to find that the transport to market at Blackwell had gone – so he and his partner rowed all the way up to Blackwell to sell their catch and then rowed back again – a spectacular feat of strength and endurance.
Tomlin is also remembered as having become a Minister of the Church, and he was eventually buried at St Clements Church.
Simon delivers the song acapella but quickly gets everyone involved – “pull those oars man, pull them true/there’s a place in heaven for you” – and it makes for a rousing finale to the evening’s entertainment.
And then it’s only left for Debbie to marshal the applause (voluminous), assess the support for another such 4-way evening (pretty emphatic), make our acknowledgements (several), and to remind everyone that business is resumed on Sunday week (5th February) with
FaB’s First Anniversary,
and with a
new Thursday night special on
the 23rd February with Ron Trueman-Border.
So, as is customary, we offer our thanks to the pub for hosting us, and to everyone who set up, performed, and watched the evening’s proceedings – and it’s out into that spiteful Easterly to find our way home.
Gordon Shears