Reviews

I’d never been to a folk club before. OK, Milverton calls itself a Music Club to get away from the “folkie” label – you know, beard, sandals, pewter mug, fisherman’s smock - and that’s just the females.

Well, what a little treasure trove I stumbled upon.  Once a month the village hall in Milverton becomes a cider and crisps fest, and it’s absolutely packed. Performers are mostly local but they occasionally host bigger international names.

My immediate impression is how friendly and welcoming everybody is; genuinely pleased to see new faces. No sneering rock posing here or worrying about whether you look cool in your new fringed buckskin jacket. Everybody’s here because they love acoustic music and live performance.

One of the perks of being the organiser is opening and closing the evening, and Tony performs a lovely folk ballad he wrote himself, Sandy Denny Days; lots of references to Fotheringhay, Who Knows Where The Time Goes; lots of chords struck here with a certain age group.  Another Tony was up next, Tony Woollard; singing Sidney Carter’s anti-war song Crow On The Cradle and Bruce Springsteen’s Further On Up The Road.

The song was the most unusual and original I have heard in ages – breathless, slinky vocals veering from wheedling to searing; intelligent lyrics; pulsing guitar. Her voice was a little like Portishead’s Beth Gibbons. She’s a unique talent and one to look out for.

If she’s reading this, I would love a copy of that song. Weeks later I am still humming it, which is a good measure of a good song.

Closing the first half were a group from Hemyock called McGuffin who sang Kate Rusby’s Lorry Ride and Sweet Thames Flow Softly by Ewan MacColl; the latter song’s beautiful harmonies sent shivers down the spine to the wooden floorboards.

The females in the group did make me think however – female folk singers, ones who aren’t holding a guitar, always stand with their hands on their hips, arms akimbo, don’t they? Is this a kind of folk power-stance like Status Quo’s famous straddled legs? Or is it homage to dairymaids or some other  traditional folk-loric secret  I am not privileged to be in on?

What is apparent is the strong sense of camaraderie here, as it turns out that most of the audience are performing tonight, and everyone who does a turn is encouraged and appreciated. Of course you can tell by the level of applause and audience reaction who went down well.

I was told by an audience member that the general rule for floor spots is two songs maximum and if the audience like you, you can do more. However, Fodo only did two, and she received a very enthusiastic response – maybe there wasn’t enough time?

There was a discernible excitement and expectation in the air because special guests that night was the duo Toomey-Swarbrick; hailing from Yeovil and Dorchester. The very name Swarbrick is guaranteed to cause many a folkie heart to flutter. Simon Swarbrick is the nephew of Dave Swarbrick of Fairport Convention and Whippersnapper fame; Simon was taught the violin by his famous uncle.

They kicked off the second half with a sophisticated and impressive set; highlighted by the frantic, bewilderingly deft, clever guitar playing Tom Toomey is so well known for. At times his hands look like spiders on speed, so fast do they whizz up and down the frets. He and Simon have it down to a T, they counterbalance and spark off each other, Simon’s violin weaving hypnotically throughout.

Next was Mason Williams’ Classical Gas, interspersed with the throbbing Eastern intro to Tom’s own song Monfi Cat, and then Uncle Tom’s Cabin, a belting Celtic foot stomper that got everyone’s feet tapping. The audience were hooked from the outset and demanded an encore, and what an encore – Tommy Emmanuel’s Tall Fiddlers.

By now everyone was awestruck at what was a world class performance by the two musicians; I was sure they must have had blisters on their fingers.

"How do I follow that?" asks a bemused Nick Girone Maddocks, frontman of Thunderbridge Bluegrass Boys, who was up next. However he turned in a polished and sterling performance, singing a song about the birth of his daughter; and then duetted with his friend Gordon Campbell.

Following this was Julia with two bittersweet songs, Easy Silence by the Dixie Chicks and Separated by Eliza Gilkyson. She put on a thoughtful, well executed performance although fell into the annoying trap of singing in an American accent when she clearly was not American.

Why do so many English singers do this? Is it only when they’re singing American songs?

Closing the evening was Tony Batten with his Silver Street Band, who got everyone but me singing along to Kate Rusby’s Wandering Soul and Along The Pilgrim’s Way by Ashley Hutchings. Tony has a fine voice, like John Denver’s but with an English accent I’m glad to say, and his cheerful and self-effacing sense of humour and famously cheesy jokes kept the evening rolling along very nicely.

And I never did find out about the free prize raffle that he kept announcing. Perhaps it was during a toilet break. Anyway, this folk virgin is looking forward to her next big night out.