Archive for the Club Night – What happened? Category

Friday April 12th 2019.

Posted in Club Night - What happened? on April 13, 2019 by Rhyl Folk Club

It was Scouse night. With the Pritchards off again filming the latest series of the S4C version of Love Island (on Anglesey), we were kept in check and on time by Edna. After understandably being a bit nervous to start, she did an excellent job.

Our guests tonight, back by popular demand, were “Wet the Tea”. We had foreplay from Jeff, Alun, Mike and Julian Assange; Julian hasn’t been for a while and he sang a nice set. There was a “Happy Birthday” for Frank who has now completed 80 orbits of the star we know as the Sun.

Since we last saw WTT, (who vie with Keith Price for the position of club’s second favourite scousers – Edna wins hands down) last year, there has been a change of personnel; the percussion section (apparently deported to the Antipodes) being replaced by Richie, who played fiddle, mandolin and what appeared to be a resonator ukelele.

WTT unashamedly play Irish music. The chat and all the vocals are down to Andy Connally, who also plays guitar, whistle and flute while he’s at it. Some traditional songs and some “home grown”.

Andy Saunders adds bouzouki, banjo and a bass which looked like it was strung with cords from his dressing gown.

A faultless selection of tunes and songs and we were at the break before we knew it. Edna summed up the first half as “bloody fabulous”.

The Break. The Snowball was unclaimed. WE ARE NOT HERE NEXT WEEK. DON’T TURN UP. It’s Good Friday and Tynewydd is closed, Some will be eating fish, I’ll be having a rare steak. On the 26th, it’s the AGM , we start at 7.30 and we will be drawing numbers out for the Snowball till we get a winner. Someone will go home with 50 quid in their pocket – if you’re not there it won’t be you.

Brian, T Gwyn and myself warmed up the crowd for part 2.

Another crackerjack set from WTT, with “The Parting Glass” reducing me to a wreck for the second time in two weeks. Big smiles on everyone’s face as we left. Thank’s to the two Andys and Richie for a thoroughly entertaining night.

For those who were there last week (or if you read the blog), there was a piece which caught my eye in the Liverpool Echo –

“At Liverpool Magistrates Court, Keith Price, an unemployed jobbing musician, pleaded guilty to a charge of illegally disposing of toxic waste into the public sewage system, namely 2 litres of Ir’n Bru, causing a large stretch of the Mersey to turn fluorescent orange and killing both the fish living in the river. Price, aged 92, who has previous convictions for murdering Molly Malone and John Barleycorn, will be sentenced next month after psychiatric assessment.”

Finally, full marks to Jeff. The sound was spot on. He had a hell of a lot of instruments to balance along with a multitude of gizmos I couldn’t pretend to understand. This photo only shows half of it.

Edna requested the boys play “Blue eyes crying in the rain”. It was recorded for posterity and your pleasure by AWR.

 

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Friday April 5th 2019

Posted in Club Night - What happened? on April 6, 2019 by Rhyl Folk Club

Wow! What a night. EmCee had a lot to get through, but that didn’t stop Brian doing a long intro. It was worth the wait however – “The Mower” was one I don’t remember hearing before and “Liverpool Judies” got us all singing.

Mike strapped on his Stratocaster for “Now I’m Easy” before moving on to one about “The travelling people” (you can’t call ’em gypsies” these days).

Keith Price was in our midst. I didn’t recognise him without the handcuffs on. There’s nothing like a pit disaster to cheer us up. He grossly overestimated the mental capacity of the audience with the A level chorus to his second one however.

We haven’t seen Annette for some years. A lovely (predictably) Irish set from a lovely lady, with “Holy Ground” sung gently and slowly. Eee, it were reet grand.

In stark contrast was Rick. Seldom subtle. “Me upon my pony on my boat” What the **** is that about? One of EmCee’s favourites though. His “domestic” with Delora was entertaining and Andy Gallagher offered him a bed for the night as he probably wouldn’t have been let into the house.

Jeff continues to provide a great set on a week to week basis. Now he has more time to practise he is, it hurts me to say this, stunningly good every Friday.

Erin was a little girl when she last sang for us. She’s obviously learned a lot from Annette. “Black is the colour” had been on Alun’s list for tonight, but it was a delight to hear Erin do it. She’s obviously been brought up a good Catholic girl – the knees in her jeans were worn through with going to Mass twice a day.

“Billy Austin” usually divides the audience when I sing it, love it or hate it. They showed their appreciation in the usual way by standing up and walking out.

T Gwyn included “The cremation of Sam McGee” in his pair of poems. The bit where he sizzled when pushed into the fire put one or two off their crisps. Talking of cremations, Frank has a big birthday this week, He doesn’t want anyone to know, so I thought I’d mention it. Frank is now so old, when he goes to the crem for someone’s service, he wonders if it’s worth his while going home. Have a good day Frank, and many, many more. Will you bring in the telegram?

The Break.

Th Snowball rolls over to 50 quid next week. Keith won the 2 litre bottle of Ir’n Bru (made in Scotland from girders). Ir’n Bru has the reputation of being the world’s best cure for hangovers. However the new sugar-free version probably doesn’t work. If Keith drinks this all at once he’ll find when he goes to bed, he’ll spin round and point North.

It was down to Alun to calm the mob down after the frenzy of the raffle. His first song was his Welsh translation of “Scarborough Fair” (why?) – he implied that this was a 17thC English song, but we all know it was written by Paul Simon. “Rare ould times” proved too much of a temptation for his pole dancing friend, who did a few moves.

Adrian was back in his winter woolly. His preamble to the Morris tune and his disgust at allowing women to join Morris teams (how do you spell misogyny?) mentioned “Moses’ Ring”. Make up your own jokes.

Geoff Durno’s “Airport Story” never fails to please – I think it’s still there on the club’s Soundcloud site if you want a listen.

We didn’t think Andy Gallagher had any mates. He didn’t sing himself tonight but brought along Dez (Des?)

There isn’t a video available, but you can listen here, it’s worth your time, I assure you.

I understand Dez actually sings for a living and that he’d also written the songs himself. Please come again when you’re down here.

There was only time for more from the visitors. Erin’s “Parting Glass” had wizened old men crying as they joined in.

Keith rounded off in fine style with everyone belting out “Leave her, Johnny, leave her ” (she aint worf it!”).

I’ve always maintained that Keith isn’t the total muppet with a fiddle that everyone else says he is – to prove it you can see and hear him at the end.

Undoubtedly the best night we’ve had this year.

Next week we have guests “Wet the Tea”. Lots of Irish music to look forward to . No dancing please.

“Mint Julep” were around when the club was formed back in the 60s. Their vinyl LP “Three Chains of Gold” is now available to listen to in our archive section on this website courtesy of AWR. Click here

Without a bum note to be heard, here’s Keith.

 

 

Friday March 29th 2019.

Posted in Club Night - What happened? on March 30, 2019 by Rhyl Folk Club

Alun started with a Brian Bedford (the inventor of the van) song , “What’s the use” (of MPs?). The first drowning song of the night – hundreds lost off the East coast, was wrapped up in a jolly tune for us to get our vocal cords into gear.

We don’t see as much of Phil Williams as we’d like, but that’s how it is. Always something different; tonight we had material from Pink Floyd’s Dave Gilmour and some Eric Clapton. Brilliant photo, Ruth. It’s probably fair to say Phil’s musical influences are slightly different to those of Mr. West.

Or Brian. Tonight, trying to look the snappy dresser in his red suede boots, he was back hunting whales. In this one the whale won in extra time, a boatful of blokes being drowned.

EmCee was pushing them through at a rate. He’d been to “the lady on the corner” for (supposedly) a haircut. I don’t know what other “extras” she throws in, but the haircut was certainly better than those from elsewhere he’s had lately.

Adrian was another of the red shoes brigade. What is wrong with these people? He vehemently denied that his woollen garment was a tank top, describing it as a”short sleeved sweater”. The sleeves were non existent. It’s a tank top. Accept it. You have become Frank Spencer. There was trouble beginning the first song when the title, tune and words of the song eluded him. He says he definitely has gout.

There was more drowning from me with “The Bergen” -it’s a shame to hear such a lovely song crucified.

Thoughtfully, EmCee then brought on someone who can actually sing.

 

 

 

It’s difficult to believe that Ewan MacColl could write something as sensitive as “First time ever I saw your face”. Mike’s second song, “Last trip home” is about the Clydesdales being replaced by tractors (them presumably being made into supermarket own brand lasagne).

With T Gwyn away, the cultural spot belonged to Sheila, with excellent works written by Maya Angelou and Walter de la Mare (his poncey name was due to his conception under the pier in a North Somerset seaside resort on a dirty weekend).

This took us to the break. The Snowball was again not claimed, so rolls over to £45 next week. It’s looking good for a big final payout on AGM night (April 26th). If anyone fancies a go on the committee see Mike for a proposal form.

First up for the second half was blues legend  Arthritic Mango Clinton (the artist formerly known as Jeffrey Blythin).

His 3 character version of “The Tennessee Waltz” always goes down a storm. There were some interesting harmonies from the audience tonight. I think a further verse from the perspective of the bouncer who ejected the 2 blokes when the inevitable scuffle broke out may not be beyond Jeff’s capabilities.

Time left for one song each.

Alun had enlisted the help of a dancer to bring some added movement to his  totally competent but physically rather static performance. The lady gyrated erotically and wobbled her lady bumps almost in time to his song.

Adrian attempted to follow this with a song he described as “an extended metaphor”. What the ****!?

I had brought in half a dozen of my hens’ finest no- lion -stamped eggs for the raffle. Not a good idea as most of them were sent at high velocity in my direction as I attempted a shanty.

The whole second half was  a chorus fest, more “interesting” harmonies and great fun and lots of happy faces as people left.

If anyone is partial to a bit of concertina, here’s Brian, feeling the cold, with his coat on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Friday March 22nd 2019.

Posted in Club Night - What happened? on March 23, 2019 by Rhyl Folk Club

There were many apologies for absence tonight. The Pritchards had TB, with AWR called up from the bench to MC and me to do the photos. Ann had a bad back from carrying the worries of the world on her shoulders and Val was bare knuckle fighting at the Pavilion, so unfortunately there is no headless photo of me today. Brian was down the bingo.

Jeff volunteered to start. All great blues singers  have certain requirements for a name – there should be a physical impairment, a fruit and a president eg. Blind Lemon Jefferson. Anyway, the artist now known as Lame Kumquat Trump sang some Woody Guthrie before launching into “Get your hands off her (get your dirty mitts down)”. Come back Ted, all is forgiven.

Alun was sucking up to his old Latin teacher tonight. Not only did he sing some John Denver, he also copied Adrian’s style by slipping in a tune and not counting it in his set of two. He ended with one from Mike’s favourite album (Penguin Eggs), “Little Pot Stove”. Unfortunately Mike had gone off to the bog and missed it.

The aforementioned Mr. West was waxing lyrical about the coming of spring, despite having spent an afternoon walking down a railway line. His apparent attempt at suicide failed as trains have not run on that line for many years. He thinks he has gout.

Geoff Durno came as close as he will ever get to dropping his guitar, albeit the probably indestructible carbon fibre one. “Angeline is always Friday” and “Blues run the game” – despite a couple of momentary lapses with the words, stunningly good.

Mike was accompanied with his guitar for “Peggy Gordon” (always brings back memories of sailing into Dun Laoghaire about 6am on a club trip to watch the rugby (in a pub). His second was “Carrying Nelson Home” (in a cask of brandy, initially to preserve him, but they then found he tasted rather good and ate him)**

**That may not be completely true but I’m a bit short of material today.

Mel then got us singing and cheered us up in that order with “Lesson too late” (with a bonus free verse) and a song about his dead Grandad. His guitar was very badly fingermarked again. Mrs. B., please don’t send young Melvin out like that again or you’ll be having a letter from the Committee. We have standards.

Yet again the Snowball went unclaimed (Alison Shaw). It’s building up to a big one on AGM night when no one goes home till it’s won.

The Betjeman tonight was a sensitive one (ie. no drooling about girls in Liberty Bodices etc), followed by John Masefield’s”Sea Fever”. I can still remember most of Masefield’s “Cargoes” learnt by heart when I was at junior school; why can’t I remember why I’m staring into the fridge?

As I said earlier, with Val away there’s no photo of me from last night so I’ve got one Ruth took last month.

After three songs without a happy ending in sight, the audience were,as usual, glad to see the back of me.

Time for just one more from everyone else.

Jeff says the club trip this year will probably be back to Montgomery, probably July 13/14, setting you back around £75/£80. Let Jeff know asap if you’re interested. The only problems last time were with the catering, otherwise it was a hell of a good weekend, but this will be sorted.

Last Committee meeting we decided we needed more shanties to end the night. I’m thinking of doing this one – have a listen so you can join in with a reasonable level of expertise.

 

Friday March 15th 2019.

Posted in Club Night - What happened? on March 16, 2019 by Rhyl Folk Club

I’d left my list in the kitchen, but surprisingly still have the mental capacity to remember what was on it. Apparently the voice mic was set too low so nobody could hear much of what I was singing anyway. This was generally considered a smart move by Jeff on the desk.

Mike had no guitar tonight so didn’t have that problem. He sang a couple from his favourite Johnny Hallyday LP, “Oeufs de Pingouin”

Jeff revealed that he always wanted a goldfish in a plastic bag (presumably, water would also be a feature) from the rag and bone man, although I can’t believe that totters ever went to Meliden (far too posh, although I suppose there’d be some quality rags ). We used to get Donkey Stones from our rag and bone man. Find out what they were  here. I was very touched a few weeks ago when my grandson said he was naming his new goldfish after me. He called it “Idiot”. Once again, some fine blues guitar from Jeffrey.

The poor old “Dove from Above” paper pigeon-on-a-stick is looking worse for wear, held together by half a roll of Sellotape. For the song about the pigeon from the arse end of Derby (other orifices are available), Alun had other props in the form of a cap and a muffler.. Well before the pigeon got lost in the storm, Alun was sweating buckets. His condition wasn’t helped by his insistence on stockpiling calories in preparation for a no-deal Brexit.

Whatever happened to Frank Spencer’s old jumpers when “Some mothers do ‘ave ’em” finished?

Look no further than Adrian West. Adrian’s Cornish song would have benefited from a West Country accent.

The first serious chorus singing of the night came through Brian with “Fare thee well cold winter” and “Rose of Allendale”, but there would be much more later.

Rick did one with guitar then extracted a mandolin from it’s case for “Copperhead Road”, with opportunity for banging, stamping and a bit of whooping. All these activities, especially the whooping, are frowned upon by Mr. West. “The DA’s got his chopper in the air” is one of my favourite song lines.mar 15 rh

Where’s Colin (with his mandolin) and the promised tune, offered as a prize some months ago? In fact, where’s Colin?

There was a surfeit of chocolate in the raffle, but at least we have seen the back of the Panettone which made several appearances in our raffle as Alun took it to Neal and Shereen’s fortnightly bash at Old Colwyn last week and finally got shut.

The Snowball again went unclaimed so it will keep rolling over if it isn’t won till AGM night (26th April) when we will continue pulling tickets out of the bag till someone wins.

T Gwyn assumed his regular spot after the break with a poem from Adrian Henri about a bloke working on the funfair.

EmCee again worked his timing to perfection for a round of two each, and a big finish with Alun leading “Mingulay”; some of the audience appeared distracted by a man on stage juggling balls.

Courtesy of AWR, here’s Jeff. You can hear some chorus singing but unfortunately most of the whistling birds have been lost.

 

 

 

Review of 2018

Posted in Club Night - What happened? on December 28, 2018 by Rhyl Folk Club

No club this week so no blog, but AWR has put together some of the highlights (and a few lowlights) of 2018. WELL worth watching.

Friday April 18th 2014 (50th Anniversary).

Posted in Club Night - What happened? on April 19, 2014 by Rhyl Folk Club

apr_18_3_rr cutoutApr 18 8 rrWith a capacity crowd and a long list of singers, Andrew rolled up the sleeves of his K.F.C. shirt (other take-aways are available) and got off to an early start. If you want to see everyone who sang, look at the collage at the bottom, the list is too long to mention everyone in the blog.

apr_18_4_rrIt was a delight to see and hear some of the “old-timers” who had made the effort to be at the club on our 50th anniversary. Darryl got “premature clap” when, merely pausing in his song to take a swig from his pint of Chilean merlot, some of the audience thought (wished?) he’d finished and put their hands together. I owe a great personal debt to Darryl for his encouragement when I first started at the club over 25 years ago. If you think I’m crap now, you should have heard me then! apr 18 16 rr

Hadyn Smith, looking very dapper, first sang at the club in 1966, and despite having to be somewhere else on the night managed to turn up to give a moving version of “The Fish Finger Blues”.

I’m not sure how Brian got through “All the little chickens”, with the wall of sound of farmyard animals coming back at him. Brian looks almost as young as ever (due to the picture in his attic), but alas, Jeff seems to have now stopped exfoliating and using his moisturiser and is showing 6 of the 7 signs of ageing; the only one he fails to demonstrate is rigor mortis. Jeff has been doing much of the graft for the club for years and doesn’t get the recognition he deserves. That unfortunately doesn’t stop me taking the piss.apr 18 14 rr

Thanks to all the ladies who provided the food and to everyone who brought stuff for the raffle. Except Mike Hawkins. Those who read last weeks summary may remember he returned a perfectly good bottle of booze which he then won for a second time. Sure enough it returned again this week. Hopefully it has now gone to a good home where it will be treated with more care and respect.apr 18 9 rr

It was fitting that young Mathew finished off the evening, after hearing the people who had carried the club through it’s first 50 years. Billy Connolly once likened life to a bus journey, where people keep getting off, sometimes before their stop. Over the years we’ve lost a few; Mike Hand, Kristen, Lindsay and of course, Ted. Due to the demographics of the club, it’s inevitable that more of us will be standing up and ringing the bell and we seem unable to attract a younger element to come and have a laugh on a Friday night, with the predictable end result of Mathew singing to an empty room (or a row of urns). We hope Mathew got his parents back to the home safely.

Guest night next week – Peter and Barbara Snape.50th collage finish

apr 18 21 rr