Rhyl Folk Club

This is it. The last blog of 2025. A nice turnout, with people from afar as Cheshire and Vancouver.

Fred and Lesley; you’ve no idea of the work this pair put in. First there every week, carrying chairs and tables from the other end of the building, last to leave and soooo much more. The club would struggle to carry on without them – a big thanks to you both.

I sang of Good King Herod, and Terence spoke of a baffled turkey. A Joni Mitchell song from Mike this week; not his usual style but he predictably did a stunning job with it.

More of the spoken word from Dafydd. His tale of the oik of a kid who ruined Christmas for the others by telling them Santa didn’t exist. Reminded me of my big brother.

With the final of “Strictly” probably being imminent (I won’t be watching it), Dave and Rose were reeling off the names of dances (pun was accidental – I’m not that sharp). Dave had boil washed his guitar, judging by it’s current size.

Tracy, the fruit of their loins, was making her debut appearance at Rhyl. Lovely voice. I can say with a degree of certainty that this was the first Muppet Christmas Carol song to be heard at the club.

Barry read his own version of “The Snowman” from his “illuminated manuscript”, not as cheesy as the Raymond Briggs tale.

As you know, I don’t do religion, but Alun’s “Deep Midwinter” is simply gorgeous. Makes Lesley’s Christmas every year.

The Break. What a raffle. Look what you could have won!

Warbie won the malt. I suppse he deserves it. There were almost as many prizes as tickets. Lots of butties, things made from pigs, mince pies. Probably shouldn’t have had tea before I came out.

This year I sent cards to some neighbours. Messages like “To the arsehole with the horrible yappy dog. Have a thoroughly shite Christmas” and signed it from the bloke with the noisy motor bike.

Brian had to regain everyone’s interest after the food and the gambling. I always enjoy his piece from the Sheffield Carol tradition. Kevin knew what he had to sing if he wanted his dangly bits to stay where they were.

Helen’s appearance from the far side of Canada waas an unexpected treat. That girl can bellt out a song!

“Mary’s Boy Child” from Geoff is another of those festive regulars we all love.

Last, and certainly not least were the Warbies. Two Christmas poems from Carole before John wound us up for the year with his regular closing song from his own club. Can I have your shirt when you’ve finished with it John?

We’re having a break, back on January 9th, a few pounds heavier. Enjoy your break and lets hope that 2026 isn’t the total shitshow that 2025 was. I look at the news every morning to see if he’s dead or been sectioned; you know who I mean.

A quiet night in terms of numbers, but plenty of entertainment – no Christmas songs, thankfully, as it’s far too early for stuff like that.

When we arrived, Fred said he’d been “humping tables”; he’s uploaded it to YouPorn if you’re interested in that sort of thing.

We had two cracking sets from Dave and Rose. After playing that banjo with the enormous neck, Dave can now scratch his left ankle without bending down.

Terence read Rachel Reeves budget in Gruffalo style, better than the leaked original. A couple of songs from me and the lovely “Hector the Hero” from Lesley, now back on 2 legs.

“Loch Tay Boat Song” from Geoff P and the best version of “Matt Hyland” that you’ll ever hear from Mike.

“Make or Break Harbour” is a Stan Rodgers song about the demise of the fishing industry in Canada, sadly a world wide phenomenon, made worse by the fact that it was written in 1976. Nicely sung and played by Geoff D.

Kevin had obviously been listening to his Alarm LP this week, with a selection of their songs. Hopefully he’ll be back next week with “Fairytale in New York”

It’s our Festive bash next week with butties and some raffle prizes that you will be wanting to win. Not to be missed.

On a very sad note, I have to tell you that we lost Chas Jenkins this week, after a long drawn out illness. One of the loveliest human beings I’ve ever been privileged to meet. Chas and Jan had been club members for decades, but their Friday commitment to Rhyl Scouts made it difficult to actually get to the club nights. Thoughts are with Jan.

Hopefully I’ll now be able to return to the weekly blogs. Last week while you were enjoying yourselves down at Ffordd Las, I was watching multi millionaires urging people who could ill afford it to shell out £20, albeit for charity (ok, I switched it off).

Last night we were treated to our special guest, Steve Tilston. Steve hasn’t been to the club for about 20 years. Time has been fairly kind and, although he’s gone grey, he still has a fine head of hair and, I suspect, all his own teeth. He also still has the charisma and the voice. Guitar playing is also every bit as good.

Forty five minutes of excellent floor spots got the juices flowing, before Steve’s two 45 minute sets.

A scouser by birth, he had a misspent youth, learning guitar when he could have been out with his mates playing footie and trashing phone boxes.

With years of songwriting behind him, he obviously has a large back catalogue from which to choose. Lots of newer songs, but he was never going to be able to leave without playing “Oil and Water” and “Slip Jigs and Reels” (this with ARJ on accordion). How does anyone have the vision to write a song like that? For the benefit of Birthday Boy Silas, this is what a 10 shilling note looked like.

Guitar was predictably awesome. Much was played in standard tuning, but where “knob twiidin'” was involved, this was done quickly and unobtrusively. Perhaps a minor point, but excessive retuning can prove irksome.

All too soon, we were on the way home. We don’t have all that many guests at the club, but you must admit we make up for that with quality. Thanks to Steve for braving the Black Friday traffic (what a con that is!) to give us a memorable night’s entertainment.

John’s Top Tip…………..Start preparing for Christmas early by falling out with family and friends now!

Rugby to watch this afternoon on S4C – wonder how that’ll turn out? No club next Friday but we’re back on the 12th for a singers’ night and again on the 19th for our Xmas bash.

For those unable to get there last night, as Jim Bowen would have said, “Look what you could have won”.

A nice sized crowd welcomed our guest for tonight, our old chum Terry Hiscock. Sorry we were a bit late arriving but the A55 traffic was some of the worst I’ve ever encountered (half term, but it’s October!). A plethora of top notch floor singers provided the warm up, plus me. Rachel and Glenys both got “Happy Birthday”, although it transpired that it wasn’t Rachel’s birthday at all, she probably said it was to get people to buy her drinks.

Terry has been booked for 4 years in succession; singer, songwriter, guitar player, lifelong West Ham supporter and all round nice guy.

90% of his songs were ones wot ‘e ‘ad rote, with the odd addition of chorussy things such as Buddy Holly’s “Everyday”.There are plenty out there who think they can write songs; few get close to Terry’s calibre, and even fewer of those can keep an audience captivated for 90 minutes.

Alun joined him for “Sweet Marie” – Mr H knew he’d be walking back home if he hadn’t sung that one.

Not like you John, being nice about someone! I hear you cry. OK, he left a nice bottle of wine in the room before he left; I’m easily bought. I’m sure we’ll be seeing him again before too long. What a thoroughly enjoyable night, thank you Terry, on behalf of all at the club.

Clocks go back tonight. If you forget, or you are one of those who refuse to alter their timepieces, we start at 8.30 next week, but for everyone else it’s singers’ night at 7.30. I often wish my clock could take me back to a time when people, especially politicians, had moe morals, values and kindness.

It’s been a long time since I did a Saturday morning write up – sorry, life got in the way.What happened to the light? It looked pretty awful for the audience and was a nightmare for photos. I didn’t count the numbers but it was very, very busy.

Fred MCeed but didn’t sing due to his frail, failing body. Mike started us off with a shanty, then Fred set about trying to squeeze everyone in.

I’d taken my aunt to one of those spas where fish eat the dead flesh. £45. Still a lot cheaper than a funeral.

Alun had been to his uncle’s funeral this week, where he’d sung Calon Lan. He repeated it for us last night – not a dry eye in the house. Only October and Alan M was in trousers.

Dave and Rosie haven’t sung at the club before, but a really nice set included Neil Kimber’s “Don’t take the heroes”. Kimber’s Men are back with us in March, but we have our old chum, the amazingly talented all round nice guy Terry Hiscock on the 24th of this month.Bring extra cash to buy his new cd.

After a late break we were treated to the Von Warburton Family Singers. Carole read one of her serious poems about war and, the better alternative, peace. Thankfully sense has prevailed and Trump came away empty handed when it came to the Nobel Peace Prize. Wonder if he’ll try to fire or sue the Committee?

It’s been a while since we saw Annette, and she brought her chum Janine with her for a couple of songs each. Only 15 minutes left for Fred to fill!

Singers’ night again next week.

With evryone back from wherever, Fred was hard pressed to fit in all the turns. He managed with 5 minutes to spare. There are photos of all the turns but too many to list all the songs etc. You may notice that Barry’s “photo” is heavily modified – the lighting isn’t good and he never stays still for even a nano second so he’s always blurred.

Mike reminded us that it’s 2 years since we lost Sheila; she’s still fondly remembered and he sang 2 of her favourite songs. Barry’s poem about the RSPB garden bird survey was merely an excuse for the line “…my neighbour has Great Tits”.

Terence’s poem about boarding a flight was very close to the truth ie. scum in economy wait till everyone else has boarded.

I’m still eagerly awaiting the arrival of a book I ordered on e Bay a few weeks ago, which I know will improve my financial position; it’s called “How to Scam People Online”.

Alun had removed the double negatives from his John Denver song. Is the collective noun a “Correction” of pedants?

After the Powell twins put themselves on for the last 2 songs, there was just time for the massed band to knock out a final chorus song, which everyone was still singing as they left, and was no doubt still irritatingly there in their heads when they tried to get to sleep.

No club next week as it’s 1st Friday but we’ll be open for business again on September 5th. I’m afraid I’ll be missing for most of September, so no weekly journal. Did anyone else notice that the cracks in the external wall had opened up. Doesn’t look good!

Sorry about the absence of your favourite weekly journal for the last month, blame it on the wife. We came over this week early to avoid the A55 Bank Holiday chaos that is the A55. There were a few absentees who had sent notes; Alan, Barry and John W were all in Finland this week, competing in the World Air Guitar championships (Google it if you don’t believe me). Tony Blair was among the favourites.

Alun was Fred’s choice of opener, with the first of the Ralph McTell songs to feature this evening. Contained some sexual content. Mike was once again irritatingly brilliant, especially as I had to follow him.

Another McTell from me and more sexual content courtesy of Joyce (the librarian). I was asked for sex this week! Ok it was on an insurance form, but at least I was asked.

Geoff had not one but two chorus songs, one Scots, one Irish. Didn’t do the accents though.

Props have always been popular with Terence. He had a fiddle there tonight and played a (very) few notes to accompany his song. NB. it’s probably not possible to stab yourself through the heart with a very long sword unless you have arms like Mr Tickle.

The 3rd McTell came from Lesley (S) about an Irish neighbour from childhood, “Mr Connaughton”. First time out. Song was fine but the bloke on the guitar screwed up a bit despite there only being 4 chords.

It’s been a while since Kevin was in our midst (unless I missed him in my absence). Always a popular turn; “Chisel Hill” is a Chris Rea song, introduced to the club by the much missed John Wright.

Brian sang of The Lowlands of Holland. Not many mountains there to sing about I suppose. The chorus of the second song had little chance of being remembered by an audience of Mensa members let alone a room full of Rhyl pensioners.

The Mighty Powells rounded off the first half, seeking out the help of an accordian player for “Athenry” – desperate times indeed.

Despite what Fred said, there IS a club next week (29th), but we have the enforced shutdown for September 5th.

Something to do this week in your spare time. Let’s pretend that the Orange one from the USA isn’t the biggest liar and most obnoxious stupid person in the world, Just pretend.

Today’s message – “Don’t rely on Sat. Nav” and don’t underestimate the traffic on the A55 on a sunny Friday. As some found to their cost.

Our guests tonight were “Full House”. The burning question was “Why haven’t we booked ’em before?”

With my 18mm lens I could just squeeze the 5 of them in a photo.

Tucked away over on the other side. Ian simply got about the business with his melodeon and then flute.

The average rock band usually has a cool looking bloke at the back, standing still and plucking a bass, while the lead guitarist struts about up front getting all the plaudits. The bass provides the backbone, exemplified by Chris Lee (maybe 10 watts too many last night). Not to mention the mandolin!

Clare “Fluff” Smith. What can I say. I’d have gladly paid the fiver just to hear her play.

Over the years, we’ve had lots of “big name” guests who couldn’t come close to giving us such a good night’s entertainment. I know what you’re thinking – this is not the John Shepherd we know, that one is generally unpleasant and seldom has a good word to say about anyone. Credit where it’s due – it was a bloody good night. Singers’ night next week (ie back to the usual crap).

Oh, what a thankless task is that of the MC. Even with the absence of the Daltons (Jeff Bezos’ wedding) and the Warbies (headlining Glastonbury), Fred still faced a mountainous list. We had a flat to the wall layout this evening as a dummy run for 2 weeks time when we have guests “Full House” from Chester (there’s a lot of ’em to fit in).

Again, can’t mention everyone, but here’s a brief recap.

Geoff D had taken Warbie’s place (ie. a Donovan song). Sam was accompanied by a very attractive blonde (12 string).

Malcolm hasn’t played for us for years, but treated us to a fine set last night, along with some electronic wizardry.

Frost’s “The road not taken” was part of Dafydd’s offerings tonight. One of my favourites. When you make a decision to choose a path along life’s travels, you will never know how the other would have worked out. Look it up, it’s worth a read now and then.

There were singalong songs from Mike and tunes from Vanda. Don’t forget the charity ceilidh (see last week’s blog).

Songs from both me and from Lesley tonight, before Alun, who won the prize for “Best Ironed Shirt”. I bet Wendy did it. What happened to “Robin Starch”?

Week off next week as it’s 1st Friday, Bring a bit more dosh for the 11th (£5) as it’s guest night and they don’t do it for nowt. Summer is still available for the next few days, but I bet you’ve noticed that the nights are drawing in.

Alan Oddsox was exuding virus fron every pore of his body, Warbies were down Kernow for the Solstice Hippy stuff, and anyone who lived the far side of the Conwy tunnel was completely stuffed. Otherwise a fairly regular singers’ night,

Alun had finally taken “Gordon” (he’s flash) from off the hall wall and given him an evening out. Sadly no effort made to buff him up.

Sailing along the coast of High Barbary was Barry No-Waistcoat-Tonight’s song. Is there a Low Barbary? Do they have apes there?

Fellow husbands – if your wife does something badly, simply explain how your mother used to do it. She will appreciate your advice and strive to do it as she did. Follow me for more marital advice.

Nobody believed that Fred had any mates, so we were dubious when he said a pal was coming to do some monologues. But there was Ray! Ray did quite well till the concrete hardened crust of a stale pork pie hit him in the eye and he bit the dust (probably Glenys or Barbara responsible). Excellent!

Lesley took a photo of me so I’ll include it, if only to show I have alternative garb to check shirts.

If you are free on Sunday July 13th, why not pop along to The Kinmel Hotel, Abergele (by the roundabout), 2.30 for 3.00 for a ceilidh with the Mooncoin Ceilidh Band; Emerald will be the caller and she assures me that even numpties like the RFC crowd will be able to follow her directions. Phone Vanda on 07867 975126 for tickets or donations. Proceeds to Alzheimer’s Society. Go on, give it a go.

Singers’ night next week at Ffordd Las.