Friday June 13th 2025
Friday the 13th. Some people had left “stuff” they needed at home. Alun had come without his picks. Fred had come without his brain. Along with the missus, he got us off to a jolly start, but then it went a bit tits up, somehow confusing me with some other bloke.
After several years absence it was good to see Steve Jones and Chris Ruane in the audience. Steve has a few thousand miles to travel, but no excuse for you Chris.
Alan Oddsox sang a lovely Janis Ian song for us. We all knew the chorus for “Banker” (not rhyming slang) with Barry, who also read some erotica (to old men) about a circus in Abergele, even repeating the bit about the Ringmistress.
Cyril Tawney was featuring heavily in Mike’s repertoire tonight. After receiving a request for “The Oggie Man”, he put his phone with the words up on the music stand ie. pretending to be a young person.
Geoff Peters appeared completely naked (ie. without a music stand), and much the better for that. Great set.
Terence was extolling the virtues of Bradford. He’s obviously never been.
It’s not often we get any Billy Shakespeare at the club, but Dafydd did the honours tonight – “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?…….” . What! Strong winds and pissing it down with rain!
60s classics from John W, with Cat Stevens and, you guessed it, Donovan.
Alun, now with his picks, thrashed out some Mark Knopfler. Sadly not “Sultans of Swing”, but pretty good all the same.
Carole finished off the line-up, with her entertaining verse.John will never be able to forget spilling (and therefore wasting) a full glass of red by washing down his laptop. Twice.
Fred, who now had had his brain delivered by courier, got round everyone in the last 40 minutes. Notably Geoff reformed the Ronettes, and there was a rare appearance of “John and the Warbettes”. I suppose you had to be there.
Singers night next week.
Rhyl Folk Club 
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