Friday 20th April 2018.

 Thank you to all for an excellent turnout at 7.30 for the AGM with all the usual reports and elections; no matter how hard EmCee and Alun try, it’s dull, but necessary for us to be run democratically. The club is in really good shape, although we are still in need of younger members. The AGM bit finished at ten past eight and we launched into a regular singers night. Should there be an apostrophe anywhere in “singers”? I’m unsure as to how the word is being used. A night consisting of singers or belonging to singers? I digress.

Mike opened with Raglan Road , Aragon Mill and then Blood Red Roses, which he knows I detest.

I had to capo a couple of frets higher after Val kicked me in the nuts following last week’s tampering with the photo she’d taken. I’d spent much of the week at home digging up the rubbish the builders had buried. How did the Tesco trolley get there? My failure to practise was evident.

If you click on the picture you will get an enlargement (beats Viagra) to see Brian with his lifetime achievement “Cluck” Award for services to Folk Music and Agriculture. He’d been off for the past 2 weeks with Man Flu; his family even got as far as laying him out in the wooden box, but more about that later.

The Mountain Oyster Band were out in force with recorder, cello, guitar and a converted dustbin which made the whole room vibrate. Some of the ladies enjoyed the sensation. A pleasant change from the usual fare and very entertaining.

Alun took advantage of Mr. West’s absence and sang one of my favourites; not only is it a John Denver song but it contains a double negative -“We don’t live here no more”. The man ain’t got no culture. The Mingulay Boat Song got us in good voice for Kimber’s Men next week, this may hopefully be in their set.

Hazel returned for a delightful solo spot with her cello to take us to the break.

The £25 Snowball was won by Gillian. I’m sure she will invest it wisely.

Geoff Durno opened part 2 with a Woody Guthrie singalong leaving just Jeff to complete the lineup of first time round.

Jeffrey hadn’t been to see the German pox doctor this week, but sang “I don’t want no cornbread, peas or black molasses”, presumably they aggravate his piles. “Johnny Miner” was a bit too fast for my taste; I suspect he was on a promise and wanted to be home early.

We had time for one more each. Brian had a new old song. As many of you know, Brian has a small temple at the bottom of his garden where he worships an effigy of Martin Carthy; every day he places offerings and ritually sacrifices his neighbours pets or his grandchildren’s tropical fish. He had had a vision whilst delirious with Man Flu and decided he must share this murder ballad he’d learnt from Mr. Carthy with the world. Invigorated by this enterprise, he climbed out of the wooden box before his family could screw the lid down to be able to share this gem of a song with us. “Sheep Crook and Black Dog” now has a rival.

It’s a return visit by Kimber’s Men next week. They went down really well last year and the place will be packed.

Here’s the M.O.B., courtesy of AWR



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