overlap

In the quiet part of the year, when it's mostly big outdoor festival gigs rather than theatres and clubs, it can be easy to get out of the habit. And with office-specific stupidity and tightened belts due to the ongoing redundancy saga - I'm still on a further stay of execution, for now - I'm well out of the habit on my local city centre shopping routine. Which is good because it keeps my postman busy, but it also means I don't get to go in a few places where buying stuff online has a sufficient postal cost overhead that it isn't worth it. Which is how I'm not exactly empty-handed going in to the gig. Somewhere in the global picture dictionary I'm sure that if you look up traditional British folk music you'll see a picture of a bloke who won't see fifty again, probably with a beard and quite possibly with an Aran sweater. So it's good to see a bunch of young shavers taking to the stage, and better still to listen to their particular mix of jigs, reels and so on. It's never as good for me without words, and the mix of the fiddle, the guitar and the flute/whistle taking turns as the lead instrument does tend towards a feel that's slightly too disparate (for my taste) but all the same, if One String Loose are the shape of things to come in traditional music then the future looks bright enough. At the other end of the scale, the Oysterband can hardly be called neophytes, and their status as veteran performers is precisely what seems them on a big theatre stage for this one-off show. With the band dressed uniformly in black, John Jones steps up to the mike and the venue fills with his voice. In some ways the content of the set doesn't really matter, this is timeless stuff that could come from any period. June Tabor comes out to join in with several songs off Freedom And Rain - Mississippi Summer is a particular highlight. Some of the covers - Wheel's On Fire, All Along The Watchtower - could be better replaced with Oysterband originals, and even the haunting Love Will Tear Us Apart as maudlin ballad is a good trick I've seen done enough by now, though the rousing Blood Wedding at the end, and the totally unamplified finale song done right on the edge of the stage are great. Songs I recall by the time of writing which I enjoyed include Native Son, Dark Eyed Sailor and By Northern Light, but the evening's highlight for me is Everywhere I Go, which plays to local sensitivities and turns the crowd into a choir. Having earlier done Bells Of Rhymney, a song which rarely fails to send a shiver up my spine due to my familiarity with the places and the spirit it evokes, this time it's the inclusivity and the joining in which sums up the band. It's the trust in the power of the music as the chorus echoes around the theatre which means for a couple of minutes we are all the Oysterband. The Oysterband is a party where you're always on the guest list, and sure of a good time in good company. And it doesn't get much better than that. John Jones, preaching to the converted. * Trust In The Power Of Music is a line from the Oysterband's 'Dancing As Fast As I Can'

Labels: gigs, One String Loose, Oysterband

As far as I can see the two genres are pretty closely connected, to the point of the join being invisible in some cases. Before I got sidetracked by Pepsi Tate's death, I was about to post about seeing over two consecutive nights what the poster called 'English Folk Veterans' The Oysterband, and Kentucky bluegrass and country legend (and some time Long Ryder) Sid Griffin. The joy of modern media means I can share a pic of John Jones, whose distinctive voice makes the Oysterband stand out from some distance, and Sid doing Gene Clark's I'll Feel A Whole Lot Better. With their thirtieth anniversary just around the corner, the Oysters have still got an awful lot to say for themselves, and they say it well. Sid may live in England these days, but there's still no mistaking the Kentucky in his voice, and in both these cases there's much to be said for their keeping in touch with exactly where they come from, even if they express it slightly differently. And maybe that's really the only difference between what is country and what is folk, where it comes from.

Labels: gigs, Oysterband, Sid Griffin

I was about to post about just what a cracking show I've just seen The Oysterband do, and instead I'm sat here listening to Living Without You, having found out that Pepsi Tate has finally succumbed to his pancreatic cancer. Forty two is really no age, and it's a very sad loss. Tigertailz were a great band for doing everything their own way, without the Londoncentricity that sometimes appears to be a requirement for musical success, and without ever giving up on what they knew were their best points. And just in case the world needs proof of just how much fun stoopid metal can be, this should do the trick. The hairspray alone in this is probably responsible for a sizeable dent in the ozone layer, and as for the bleach...

Labels: gigs, Oysterband, Pepsi Tate, rock, Tigertailz