Being a singer in a tribute or covers band is nerve-wracking. Though tributes can hide behind a mask, a cover band frontperson can be reassured only by the notion that friends are backing them; blame the drummer! But a soloist, singing their mind acoustically is in another ballpark. Stripped back, alone, exposing your innermost thoughts, desires or even personal issues to an audience takes some bottle. It’s a test of courage for the most egotistical, the mental equivalent of standing naked. Yet a majority of those who do, I find, are actually modest and reserved.
In an interview with Peggy-Sue Ford last year, Aberystwyth born now Devizes-based singer-songwriter, Sammi Evans, expressed both her excitement and terror at playing live on the show, opened up about her troubled childhood, ADHD, and being a self-certified “scatter-brain,” and in doing so created one of the most interesting and touching of Peggy’s Don’t Stop The Music shows on Swindon 105.5.
The last time I met Sammi she was showing me the artwork of her upcoming debut single, explaining how the purple background and gothic font gave it a sense of corporate identity, as well, holding her phone with a subtle tremble, telling me how anxious she was about releasing it. That single, TheShadow, came out a couple of days ago, and thus, Sammi has traversed the local open mic nights, jams at the Southgate, and pub gig circuit, to a recording artist; that thought alone would goosebump the least nervous!
The song’s subject reflects this anxiety, it drags you into a dark closet, and hauntingly honest, questions the listener if they experience similar ghostly fears. Sammi’s vocals are academia aesthetic, rich with a focused ethereal and melancholic soundscape. But it is through an impressive arrangement by Martin Spencer of Potterne’s Badger Set studio, which adds to the other-worldly ambience, with a tinkering piano breathing a touch of gothic horror film score, even subtle classical crossover about the otherwise poignant acoustic guitar marvel.
Hey look, I’ve been to art college and know about light and shadow. If the shadow depicted in this song is metaphorically actualising foreboding as shadows and monsters lurking within them, the quality of the song contravenes its subject, upon its release. It might have felt that way in Sammi’s mind at the time of writing it, but releasing it might’ve been that face your fear moment of diving off the top board into the pool. And now it’s out there, perhaps more art for art’s sake and prosperity than fame and fortune, she should consider it an exhilaration of accomplishment, because it’s really rather wonderful.
It should then act as the opposite to shadow. This debut single is a light source, beaming directly above Sammi Evans, which casts only a minimal shadow at her footprint, if at all, and, I hope, reduces any seeds of doubt that she can write thought-provoking lyrics and compose them into songs with illuminating results. I look forward to hearing more, Sammi! x
Ask people what they know about Philip Larkin, and the general best response may well be “a poet”. They may even know he was a librarian at the University of Hull. Some may even know he coined a phrase concerning the effect of one’s parents upon one – a rather rude quote, far too rude to be spelt out here in Devizine obviously. What they – or you – may not know though is that he had thirty plus years polyamorous… arrangements… with three women none of whom were overjoyed at sharing him but couldn’t let him go. Or at least, that is the wonderful picture painted by playwright Ben Brown in his play “Larkin with Women” which Next Stage Theatre Company are performing this week at the Mission Theatre, Bath.
This is a sumptuous work,. Deliciously delivered in a simple in the round setting of office, flats and a weekend cottage with an equally delightful sound track to set it all off. The plot runs through Larkin’s life with his amours Monica a long standing girlfriend and English lecturer, Maeve who comes to work at the library he runs, and Betty his secretary. His persona is of a sharp witted, pithy remarked but not uncaring man, his dialogue stuffed full of ironic responses and jokes. Yet he is egocentric at times seemingly oblivious to his devotees’ desire for monogamy, or at least uncaring, with his rejection of marriage as an institution. This especially causes a barrier with Maeve who as a strict Catholic cannot agree to sex outside marriage and they carry out their unconsummated affair for over a decade until the inevitable happens, Maeve is distraught, and Larkin responds with “You’re forty-six years old. Its not as if you can hang on to it for ever”. Monica is the closest of the three to Larkin’s approach to love but is jealous of the others’ involvements. Betty is last to fall for him and she too wishes him to herself.
The play draws to the obvious conclusion as Larkin’s life ends at the age he prophesied, his three partners in life visiting him for what may be a last time. Monica has the most heart wrenching line in the play as she answers a question posed by Larkin as he approaches death – as an audience we can see the answer coming, but when it does it is delivered with such great timing, and tenderness that it still brings forth an immediate emotion and reaction.
The cast are sublime, each playing their part superbly to eke out each character’s nuances and foibles. Tania Lyons as Monica, Antonia White as Maeve and Stephanie Hunt as Betty create three distinctly different women… Betty caring, Maeve desperate for marriage, Monica devoted. Brian Hudd fulfils the role of Larkin with panache and even brilliance. Mannerisms, delivery, aura… if this is not how Larkin really was, then he should have been Brian’s portrayal.
A simple set, a gorgeous playlist, subtle yet engaging tech and period clothing throughout from Kris Nuttall, Andy Punt, Vanessa Bishop and Ann Ellison – who also directed this wonderful piece of theatre, more than ably assisted by Andrew Ellison as Stage Manager.
Ben Brown the writer in the program notes is quoted as saying “there is a fine line sometimes between humour and irony”. He is spot on of course, but I’d go one further and suggest there is a fine line between irony and pathos… and Ben delivers that second fine line absolutely perfectly, in this absolutely perfect play. Next Stage have dedicated this performance run to the real life Betty Mackereth, who died this week.
When I put together the 4 Julia’s House compilation albums a few years ago I decided I shouldn’t pick favourites out of the eighty-one songs donated, but if I had to, it would’ve indisputably been Atlantic O by Will Lawton and Ludwig Mack. With the ambience of the gods, this track is such a soothing sentimental earworm it makes you go all tingly as it drifts like a lost ship on the sea. Now the duo have released a debut album, matching the sublimity of Atlantic O. The story behind it is of an absorbing coincidence, and its unique marketing is equally as genius as the music…..
At the time I was aware of the virtuosity and diversity of Malmsbury musical magician, Will Lawton, from solo performances and fronting The Alchemists. At the time he sent the tune for the project he briefly explained Ludwig was an Argentinian musician he had been working with, but their connection is far more complex and is explained in the book to the album, which is in turn, currently the only way to hear it.
A story of serendipity expressed earnestly through a 36-page hardback, which continues to detail the thought processes of the album, each individual song, and the musicians which accompany them along the titled journey Five Years in the Cotswolds. Then, on the back cover there’s a QR code to scan, leading you to streaming options; I suggest you do, your ears will love you forevermore.
Enticed by the lure of English music, and his European travelling plans cut short by the pandemic, Argentinian musician Ludwig Mack arrived in the UK from Spain a day prior to lockdown. He had already connected with Will via Instagram, not realising when he settled in Hullavington he was coincidently only a few miles away from Will’s home. They jammed together, the song Atlantic O, and within a year produced the EP Heroes.
Ludwig explored the UK, and found work whether he could, whilst Will continued with family life, his band the Alchemists and his employment as a music psychotherapist. But Ludwig often dropped in to see Will, and it was inevitable this project would blossom like the opening tune, aptly Blossom, a tender springtime daydream contrasting aging with memories. It’s as majestic as the morning chorus, and includes a naturally sourced one too.
The fabric of this album continues on this theme, indeed Songbird follows suit into the most gentle flow of concentrated bliss. It’s the first single released this Friday (10/10) of the goodness of nature rather than society’s machine, unhinged and timeless piano-based folk, and celebratory of the glory wildlife in all its splendour, wrapped in the warmest serenity. By its very composure it defines the sum of all this goodness and shapes a heart in your mind; if an album was a wander through a springtime meadow, this is a stroll to remember.
It comes as no surprise Will is a music psychotherapist, if the vocation is to improve wellbeing, increase happiness and overcome issues. One listen to Five Years in the Cotswolds is the best remedy. Ten solid tunes, all the like to make the little hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention. There’s few artists able to accomplish this, I could cite many, from Bill Withers to John Denver and you will contemplate your favourites when this caresses your senses.
The album lifts with euphoric pace at God’s Plan, and I’m left thinking of Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On as its aperture opens the album to a similar width of beauty. From the guitar chimes of November to the quirkiness of the bluegrass-esque Walk Each Other Home, and from the amorous ambience of Clouds to Freya Everest’s haunting vocal range on I Noticed, this album continues flowing on the theme as a paragon, never meandering off course.
Its production is as crisp as autumn leaves, the arrangements are like sunlight. The composition is a Vivaldi, its versification is W. H. Davies’ Leisure, the musical expression of a Monet, a pilgrimage to a Constable masterpiece, or all of these wonders capturing the beauty of nature equally combined and consumed, it really is this breathtaking. Devizine
Its production is as crisp as autumn leaves, the arrangements are like sunlight. The composition is a Vivaldi, its versification is W. H. Davies’ Leisure, the musical expression of a Monet, a pilgrimage to a Constable masterpiece, or all of these wonders capturing the beauty of nature equally combined and consumed, it really is this breathtaking.
Bath’s producer and musician, Rob McLeod, aka Mac Lloyd, Spanish multi-instrumentalist Guillem Mitchel, London based jazz singer-songwriter and producer Freya Everest and drummer Tony Partridge who met Will at Schtumm in Box, are the other collaborators behind this enchanting project, alongside composer and arranger Benjamin Lawton, Will’s son.
Streaming platforms are held off until next year on this, the book to Five Years in the Cotswolds is the album’s only current access point, and is available on their website, and at upcoming gigs, The Castle, Swindon on 16th October, and Pound Arts in Corsham on 6th November, details of which are also on their website.
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For those weird enough among us to be of an acoustic bent, particularly on the folkie side, the time since the Covid lockdowns has been a bit of a desert. Several local clubs which once thrived before 2020, never actually opened again – Devizes Folk Club, Corsham’s Acoustic Oak, Bradford Folk Club and Trowbridge’s Village Pump being amongst them. Last year the Bradford club finally stuttered into life again, first at the now-closed Swan Hotel, then at other venues, but only as a very low-key weekly sing-around. The proper full fat Open Mic nights and Guest Nights seemed to have disappeared from the local scene completely. Some of this was due to the “retirement” of the previous hosts, and some of it (unfortunately) due to the passing of their once-leading lights.
The venue itself, known as the Village Pump, at the rear of Wadworth’s The Lamb in Trowbridge, and the mothership of the hugely popular Village Pump and Trowbridge Festivals, recently found a new entrepreneur in our good friend and music promoter Kieran J Moore. Kieran has performed wonders in re-opening the venue, in overhauling its sound and lighting infrastructure, and in attracting a whole new range of artists over the past couple of years. Audiences have grown, drawn by the inventive programming, and the support for many local up-and-coming new indie bands.
And now, at last, a light has re-emerged from the gloom for the folkies with the start of The PumpAcoustic Club as a new pop-up venture at the venue. Running every second Friday of the month, the club promises a welcoming night whether you want to come and play or just rock up and listen. The format is pretty similar to the old VP folk club: the first half is dedicated to acoustic-only (unplugged) floor spots, and the second half to a booked guest. For the Open Mic part, you have to sign up in advance (first come, first served via comments on their Facebook page), and you get time to sing two or three songs each. The running order allows for about ten or eleven acts. Then, following the break, and the inevitable raffle, the second half is a 45-60 PA-supported slot dedicated to a booked artist.
Last month, on the first outing for the Club, we were treated to a great set by local duo Lorna and Darren, playing as Fly Yeti Fly. Anyone there would agree it was a great night and a fabulous start to this new venture.
Last night, for August’s booking we had Wings and Whispers, an all-female duo from Bristol. Both classically trained, both admitted to preferring the folkier side of things. Using harp, guitar, whistle and voices, the pair played some fascinating, ethereal music based in folk legends and myths and in the natural world. They wove original compositions together with re-arranged folk classics and covers into a mesmerising set. Superb stuff.
The new Club, set up by Bradford-on-Avon’s Simon Taylor (lately of Water Thieves Trio and Dr. Zebo’s Wheezy Club) and Matt Cook, looks as if it’s hit just the right formula. Both last month’s affair and last night were pretty busy, with most seats taken both upstairs and down. It’s £4 to get in, and £1 for a strip of raffle tickets, so you’re all done and dusted for a great night out for a fiver – what more could you want? Let’s hope that now it’s back, folks will continue to support it and make it into the success it surely deserves to be.
Future gigs, as stated, will be the second Friday of each month. See their Facebook page for individual events, but here’s a preview:
Friday 12th September Andy Skellam
Friday 10th October Lorikeet
Friday 14th November Brian Stone & The Masters Of None
From carnival to the Winter Festival, DOCA stages so many great events in Devizes, most of them for free, but the most unique is the Confetti Battle. This year it’s coupled again with the Colour Rush, on Saturday 14th September. TicketSource are offering £1,000 to help fund a winning community event, all you have to do is click on this link, and vote for DOCA….
Devizes Confetti Battle has been happening since 1955, it is free to attend but not free to put on. People of all ages come and participate in a mock battle, throwing tons of confetti at each other, leading to a firework finale. It’s a lot of fun!
There are a lot of costs that come with this event. The cost of road closures and the big clean up afterwards. DOCA would use the money to help buy confetti supplies. It’s hard to get the event funded as it isn’t a traditional art or heritage event so this award would be a great help.
So, please click on this LINK to vote for them, it will take you seconds and costs nothing, ta!
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American poet, Carrie Etter has been a resident in England since 2001, and a reader in Creative Writing at Bath Spa University. She published four collections, most recently, The Weather in Normal, and numerous chapbooks. On Saturday Carrie gave a poetry workshop and reading at Devizes Town Hall, as a fringe event of Devizes Arts Festival…..
‘Carrie’s workshop was absolutely fantastic, a distilled overview of prose poetry with many examples to show the variation in style and our own time to create (with no pressure). Carrie was inspiring, impassioned and quick as a whip.
Her students at Bristol University are very lucky to have her as a teacher (as were her many past students from at Bath Spa University). The open mic at the end was inclusive, supportive and fun. Carrie’s final poem saw me wiping away tears; beautiful.
I wish I could write a longer review but I am doing this one-eyed with a poorly optic nerve. I’m effervescing with words which will have to wait or be dictaphoned, when they come I now have many tips as to how to form them better. Thanks Carrie, your generosity is abundant – I’ve a feeling you’ll get a roomful’s worth of follow up messages. Helen.
Stone Circle Music Events announced today that all proceeds of CrownFest will be donated to Wiltshire Hope & Harmony’s Dementia Choir. CrownFest is an all-day…
A quick one from me today, offering our congratulations to our new writer, Helen Edwards from Devizes, who read out her poem “Motherhood,” on BBC Wiltshire this week on James Thomas’s Upload show. “It was fun,” she told us, “except my phone started ringing!”
Listen here from the BBC website, or Soundcloud link, here. I love writing, but poems, hum, something about bacon, not to mention I’m an absolute bag of nerves on radio! The article on the Bournemouth Writing Festival Helen mentioned is here too, and this one worked both ways, also inspiring Helen to write. Well done you, and we look forward to hearing some more soon!
Dry January, anyone? Well, Lady Nade just plunged into an outdoor 4°C eucalyptus sauna for a social media reel. But whilst I’d require a stiff drink to do such, our beloved Somerset soul singer says she’s swapping ice-cold cocktails for ice-cold baths. There must be warmer ways to promote a January single?! Sober is that…
If past years seem to be racing by me on roller-skates, now they’re in Formula 1 cars! 2025, in a word, was “average,” though the Devizine annual stats fell for a second year, at 6% lower than 2024; you lot still here?! I’m not concerned about that, you filthy traitors; you’ve been digesting the clickbait…
Ah, let’s talk about Talk in Code one more time this year, because we’re secret Talkers here, and everything has been awesome this year for them, but now they’re being immortalised as Lego minifigures! Surely, the piece of resistance of local merch, it doesn’t get better than this! Lego minifigures have become something of a…
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Writer, poet, TV & Film producer, founder of the Manchester Poetry Festival (now the Literature festival) and co-founder of the Nottingham Poetry Festival, Henry Normal brings his new tour, Collected Poems and Other Landfill, to The Assembly Rooms in Devizes on Friday 3rd November.….
In June 2017 he was honoured with a special BAFTA for services to Television, credits roll like the ultimate résumé. He co-wrote and script edited the multi-award-winning Mrs Merton show and the spin off series Mrs Merton and Malcolm. He also co-created and co-wrote the first series of The Royle Family. With Steve Coogan he co-wrote the BAFTA winning Paul and Pauline Calf Video Diaries, Coogan’s Run, Tony Ferrino, Doctor Terrible and all three of Steve’s live tours and the film The Parole Officer.
Setting up Baby Cow Productions Ltd in 1990, Henry executive produced all and script edited many of the shows of its 17-and-a-half-year output during his tenure as MD. Highlights of the Baby Cow output during his time include the Oscar nominated film Philomena, I believe in Miracles, Gavin and Stacey, Moone Boy, Uncle, Marion and Geof, Nighty Night, The Mighty Boosh, Red Dwarf, Hunderby, Camping and Alan Partridge.
Since retiring in April 2016, Henry has written and performed eight BBC Radio 4 shows combining comedy, poetry, and stories about family. His tenth show A Normal Home will be recorded on the 18th November 2022 for transmission on the 20th December.
In April 2018, Two Roads publishers released his book of memoirs ‘A Normal Family’ which was written with his wife Angela Pell, drawing on his family experience. It immediately became a best seller on Amazon and has already been reprinted.
Henry performs poetry at Literature Festivals around the UK and has eleven poetry books available from Flapjack Press including the latest entitled Collected Poems Vol.2.
He was recently given an honorary doctorate of letters by Nottingham Trent University, another by Nottingham University and has a beer and a bus named after him in Nottingham!
Support for Henry Normal’s show comes from very special guest British actor, comedian, musician, novelist, and playwright Nigel Planer, perhaps best known for his role as Neil in the BBC comedy The Young Ones and Ralph Filthy in Filthy Rich & Catflap. He has appeared in many West End musicals, including original casts of Evita, Chicago, We Will Rock You, Wicked, and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
Doors at 7.30pm, on Friday 3rd November. Tickets (£17.50 + booking fee) are available now HERE.
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A few weeks ago whilst scrolling through social media an advert for this event came up. Intrigued and having never been to a poetry night before I popped it into my calendar. The date soon came round and I nearly bailed… too much to do, too far to drive, too dark, cold, lazy. But before making the final call I did some research. My main discovery was that the 21st March is in fact, World Poetry Day. So that was that, decision made and done. I was on my way to have poetry fun (yep, I know).
I arrived at the pub adjacent to Salisbury’s ring road, went to the bar, and found myself standing next to a very tall Queen of Hearts. A huge auburn beehive wig added to her intimidating height. The theme (I remembered) was ‘Through the Looking-Glass”. Already feeling out of place with my usual jeans, sweater, and trainers garb, I tentatively walked into the intimate and warm side-room. Twenty or maybe thirty people sat, perched, or stood near tables decorated with playing cards and jam tarts, all facing the low stage embellished with tinsel and a large mirror reflecting their expectant faces.
Watching the final stragglers squeeze in, it became clear that most of the audience knew each other or of each other. Because of this the atmosphere felt supportive and inclusive. I sipped my wine, relaxed and opened my mind. Then BAM. The Queen of Hearts, Alice and the Rabbit, ‘I’m late, I’m late!’ jumped on stage and performed a semi-rehearsed intro show. Scripts in hand and costumes adorned, the passion and dedication to Poetika came across to all. My initiation into the poetry night proved louder, brasher and way more fun than anticipated.
With the ice, and not the mirror, broken the poets took to the mic. The Queen of Hearts, Nikki (I learnt at the interval that Nicki is the chief organiser of Poetika) stepped up to read her fast paced, caustic, funny lines. It wasn’t solely the poems that had me chuckling; Nicki’s striking resemblance in looks and mannerisms to the eclectic and talented Sue Pollard amused me throughout. When I told her in the break that her poems reminded me of John Cooper-Clarke, the famous punk poet and I was informed that she was his support act for part of a past tour. How cool. It’s obvious that JCC has been a huge influence on her work. I was offered a slot on stage in the second half to read my own stuff and responded by nodding whilst shaking my head simultaneously unsure as to whether I’d just enthusiastically agreed or vehemently declined.
Back to the first half. After Nicki came a succession of amateur poets, including Poetika’s Alice (Ria) with her clever plot and sweet but sharp delivery and the Rabbit (Jamie). I sat consumed, listening deeply, trying not to miss the, at times, lightning quick word concoctions. It became clear that this was theatre. This was not a read-off-the-page poetry recital but a pure and raw exposure of one’s writing, wit, and inner workings. Deep and true – as poetry can be … with a big dose of stage presence.
Two of the next performers achieved a stand-up comedic delivery with inspired words and accompanying audience participation. Ripper’s ‘Cider’ poem, a fun crowd pleaser, was read with an air of self-deprecating, drole, deadpan humour. Move over Romesh Ranganathan. The other, Craig, is a born comedian. He evoked laughter throughout his set but brushed aside each short poem with a ‘and that’s that one!’ remark, his poetry performance tic.
My favourite act of the night allowed all present to dive right through the looking-glass and into the authors heart. Echo, a beautifully presented human with self expression etched on every inch of clothing, jewellery, exposed skin and hair was outstanding. I cannot compare the writing to any other: FYI my current education level in poetry is pretty low so to me it was totally unique. A mirror to the soul was shared and if I hadn’t heard another all night, the poem, ‘T1’ alone was worth hauling my butt to Salisbury for. Softly delivered, a hard-hitting exposure to drug use walked us around a squat and Echo’s mind. A beautiful shock of a poem. The lines, ‘I glance up, I see myself in the mirror malnourished, dying. I look away quickly to convince myself my reflection is just simply lying’ speak for themselves. I wouldn’t be surprised if Echo’s words are bouncing off much bigger venues’ walls in the future.
The event’s special guest came next, the professional poet, Claire H from Bournemouth. Claire began with a capsule lesson on poetry agreeing with another writer (sorry, source unknown) that poetry ‘isn’t a hiding place it’s a finding place’. Claire H, a self-branded witch poet, told her transfixed guests that ‘poetry saved her life’. ‘That old chestnut’ I hear you smirk but I believed every word. And judging by the reflective silence that followed it seemed many were concluding similar, that words had performed a transformative magic on them too.
Claire’s stage presence, from her downright natural, cool-as demeanour to her dance-like arm movements marked her out as ‘the professional’ on the night. Even her poems had their own stand to be read from. I immediately connected both with Claire’s honest, clear and charged poems and her generous and kind personality. She told me at the interval that she reads tarot cards but apart from this and her signature black fingerless gloves I wasn’t really feeling the broomstick vibes. Maybe the reference to ‘burning effigies of all those women I wasn’t’ was the giveaway.
Claire’s ‘England’ poem was excellent: political, clever, personal and relatable. But my preferred piece was ‘Forty’ describing what it can be like to be a woman in the fourth decade of life right now. Spot on. The snippet that has stayed with me however came from her ‘Love and Other Natural Disasters’ poem: ‘Fractured affections and dislocated devotions’. Claire left us with the insightful advice ‘to look to the poetry of your intuition’.
The interval was like a cold-water immersion into a truly creative bunch of people. It was powerfully revitalising and eye-opening to see glimpses of lives lived so differently to my own. I wanted more.
Act two came with more solid performances from Poetika trio, Nicky (reading John Cooper-Clarke), Jamie with his ‘Tory’ poem, and Ria with her superb ‘Black Dog’ piece. Ria’s quirky, sweet radiance could fool one into mis-labelling but listen to this poem, and you will hear a voice full of strength and intelligence. Respect to you, Ria, for picking a fight with Sir Winston Churchill. You educated and made us see that his labelling of black dogs as synonymous with depression was wrong. I love how Ria’s quiet passion permeated the room and how her words weaved anger and the virtues of black dogs into a great poem.
We had a Gary Stringer (lead singer of 90’s band, Reef) look-alike sing a lovely song about his mum’s death, Lois a relative newbie reading her second poem of the night and more from the comedy poets Ripper and his mate ‘and that’s that one!’ Craig. We had Hopper, confidently read his second poem and then we had me. Confidence slipped away as I heard my name called. Tummy swirling, I floated above the scene and listened as I read out a personal piece of me. I received a warm clap and vocal praise. Thank you Poetika, my ego enjoyed the moment. I write for me but sharing on the night was good. And inspiring. The following day I wrote two poems.
If you want to sit back and take in the theatre, the warmth, the tough emotions and the laughter then I would highly recommend going along to Poetika in Salisbury. You will be welcomed and hopefully, as I was, surprised and inspired by the talent in the room. If you have an inkling that you’d like to get up on stage to read then please do. I may have had an out of body experience but it’s charged me up like a supernova. You could always do what I did and go on your own. If you die on stage you never have to go back… if no one you know hears it, it never really happened, right?
Thanks Team Poetika. See you in the future.
Next Poetika night: 18th April 2023, 7.30pm The Winchester Gate, Salisbury. Theme: tbc.
I once reviewed a cassette with a photocopied punk-paste zine style picture of Mr Blobby as the cover, where a distraught male voice screeched, “take an overdose, ginseng!” continuously over some white noise. Thank heavens that’s in a long-lost past!
Fortunately, I’ve never had anything quite so bizarre to review since, not even this week when, Erin Bardwell messaged; “one of the drummers I do things with, Matty Bane, has a side duo project and wanted to let you know about their latest album.”
Sure, I’ve heard of Matty, seen him listed as one of Erin’s collective, trekking with them to Jamaica in 2003 to record with Recoldo Fleming at Dynamic Sounds. Further research shows he’s drummed in Bad Manners for over ten years, and is now part of Neville Staple’s From the Specials setup, headhunted from days as part of the Special Beat tour with the original rude boy.
Given this, I was naturally expecting said side-project to be reggae, stands to reason. What might’ve eased the surprise was to have pre-known of Matty’s own band The Transpersonals, a minimalistic, psych-rock outfit lounging somewhere between Pink Floyd and Spaceman 3. Still, nothing was going to prep me for what I got; We Wish you Health by Horses of the Gods.
There’s only one reason for facetiously mentioning the eccentric Mr Blobby cassette, because this is unusual too. The likeness ends there, though. “Bizarre” can connote excruciating, as with the cassette, but, as with We Wish you Health, can also imply uniquely stimulating and inimitably disparate. So much so, it’s astonishingly good. For those seeking the peculiar, those at their happiest dancing barefoot in Avebury’s morning dew, or for whom reaching the summit of Glastonbury Tor before sunrise is priority, will adore this, with jester’s bells on.
Matty teams up Mike Ballard, a media and games lecturer with a penchant for folk. And essentially this is what we ought to pigeonhole Horses of the Gods as; Somerset folk, is as near in modern terminology you’re going to get. But for comparisons I’m going to have to max my flux capacitor way beyond my usual backtracking.
If I relish in music history without the technical knowledge, I understand one has to either accept four-time pop, or untrain their ear to acknowledge other musical metres, in order to appreciate folk, classical, even jazz, but particularly the kind of sounds We Wish you Health is embracing. There’s something medieval, least pagan mysticism about the influences here, of shawms and hand-cranked hurdy-gurdies, miracle plays, and Gallican chants of plainsong. And it’s swathed with chants and poetry as if in variant West Country Brittonic tongue.
We have to trek beyond futurist Francesco Balilla Pratella’s Art of Noises theory, to an olden ambience of nature, of birdsong, storms and waterfalls. The opening track starts as a spoken-word toast and ends akin to medieval court jester entertainment, over a haunting chant. Equally passe but equally amicable is a sea shanty called Down in the Bay. Then a clocktower chime follows; left wondering if this was Dark Side of the Moon recorded in 1648. Sow In uses mellowed hurdy-gurdy to mimic what the untrained ear might deem an Eastern ambience. With a solstice theme, it’s so earthy it makes the Afro-Celt Sound System sound like Ace of Base! (Joke; I love the Afro-Celt Sound System!)
In many ways the next tune Ostara follows suit, more eastern promise yet slightly more upbeat. Consider George Harrison’s collaborations with Ravi Shanker. As the album continues, experimentation with traditional abound, obscure instruments are thrown into the melting pot; the Victorian circus sound of The Thing and I, the rural west country ditty of Digger’s Songs, in which you can almost smell spilt scrumpy as folk rise from haystacks to jig.
Throughout you’re chopping randomly at influences, this medieval court running theme, blended with an oompah band styled sound on The Whole World Goes Around, will make you want bells on your shins like a drunken Morris dancer at the village fete. Else you’re haunted by the chill of evocative soundscapes, unable to pinpoint an era this falls into. I’ll tell you now, it was aptly released at Samhain last year.
We Wish you Healthmay be bespoke, and some wouldn’t give themselves adjustment time, yet Sgt Pepper and PetSounds were famed for pushing the boundaries of what is acceptable in contemporary pop. This is a fissure to the norm, a testimony of yore, for while there’s a demonstration of newfound passion within ancient realms, it is fundamentally timeless. Though I suspect there’s myth and history behind each track, which extends the album from a set of songs to a research project for the listener.
The finale, for example, has a reference in Wikipedia; John Barleycorn, a personification of the importance of sowing barley and of the alcoholic beverages made from it, beer and whisky. Though in the House of Gods, cider gets a mention. John Barleycorn is represented as suffering indignities, attacks and death that correspond to the various stages of barley cultivation. It goes onto reprint a Robert Burns version from 1782, though stating countless variations exist; Matty and Mike use an earlier version:
There was three men come out o’ the west their fortunes for to try, And these three men made a solemn vow, John Barleycorn must die, They ploughed, they sowed, they harrowed him in, throwed clods upon his head, Til these three men were satisfied John Barleycorn was dead.
I’ve rushed out this review to make you aware of it, and because I’m so utterly astounded by its uniqueness, but fear I’m only teetering on the edge of its fascinating historical references myself. Thus, is the general nature of folk music, to dig out lost fables which once would’ve entertained young and old, and bring them to new audiences, and The Horses of the Gods does this in such a way, the negative confines and stereotypes commonly associated with folk music just melt away.
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Phone memory bursting with text messages from Gail Foster the day I did my fundraising milk round in my Spiderman onesie. A keen photographer as well as accomplished local poet, Gail had cycled to the summit of Monument Hill and sat awaiting to capture the moment I returned triumphant.
I confess, I underestimated my ETA massively due to the media attention, Carmela and family arriving, and passers by stopping me to donate. I was also irritable and smelly by that point, but those are occupational hazards at the best of times, doubly so in a onesie in the sweltering August climate. Gail, though, was as dedicated as paparazzi to getting the snap she wanted, got me smiling just to see her there, and it’s the same commitment she shows through her expressions in poetry. Her shiny new book, Blossom is a prime example.
Images by Gail Foster herself!
Perhaps its very title coveys Gail’s grouping of photography and poetry, natural elements crucial to her snaps, but her books bestow only the written word. We’ve reviewed Gail’s books in the past, never an easy task. Poetry not my bag, usually, so I cannot liken to similar creative outpourings. There’s also the fear that my own penmanship doesn’t compare and will not do justice to her creative writing. Poems are hard, something about bacon. Yet it is down to befriending Gail which has re-sparked an interest in poetry in me, and deflected my juvenile fear of a Ted Hughes book facing me on a school desk. That’s how universally appealing her words are.
While subjects chronologically stream from one poem to another, expect also, sudden changes in Gail’s train of thought. Blossom kicks off with a memorial forward and dark subjects follow, of wintery funerals and melancholic seasons. One may expect this, the platitude of poems often reveals a shadowy side of the poet. But, just a few poems in and though we’re still on the seasonal theme, winter cries a warning to Gail, to keep her knickers on.
Here is precisely why Gail got me into in poetry, a feat I never cared to assume would happen. The wittiness of the absurd, surreal, Pythoneske can crop up, without warning and provide actual laugh-out-loud observations. There’s a feeling of daring in Gail’s words, while acute and proficiently executed, nothing is off limits. Gail projects drollness, jocularity and just about every other emotion of the human psyche, in manner which though reflects poets of yore, breathes a fresh and unique approach to boot.
In this, her new book Blossom doesn’t necessarily take us anywhere new in comparison to her previous collections, there’s even a pigeon reference, a running subject in Gail’s words, yet an improvement in skill and wordplay is clearly evident. Gail strives to advance and progress in her wordsmanship, dealing words like a croupier deals cards, snappy and expertly.
The introduction enlightens us to Gail’s motivation and reason for writing, “I write poems for all sorts of reasons. Sometimes an occasion demands it, in which case I stare at a sonnet on a screen for three days; at other times a poem might tickle me in my sleep, wake me up laughing.” Blossom then conveniently divides into sections, poems covering Seasons, poetry itself, “Binky Liked to Bitch a Bit,” Politics, Characters, Sorrow, Love and Prose, even local thoughts in a section titled, “a bit of old Devizes.”
There are verses dedicated to friends, themes of celebrities, naughty royals and both Greta and Trump, odes to patronising old men, nosey neighbours, political sway, Brexit, current affairs and Nigel Farage depicted as a meerkat. As we pass through an era Gail documents them uniquely. There are unapologetic words of the sweary kind, bitterness at times, jollity in others; bugger, it’s tricky to nail this poet down; what does she want from me, trying to review a book so vastly sweeping with subject matter and prose?! I’m giving up, you have to read it yourself. You can bless your Kindle with one, or Gail favours that you nip to Devizes Books for a paperback, and I tend to agree. Devizes Books brilliantly supports local authors.
In this time of lockdown, you might need a good read, so too does the artists need some revenue. The advantage of holding Gail’s poems in your hand is that you can freely pursue them at your own leisure. We did once review a spoken word CD which Gail recorded, I like this approach and unsure if she will do it again.
Proof it’s in Devizes Books, here’s owner Jo holding a copy!
I could, but don’t, motivate myself to attend local poetry slams and readings, in fear those poets I know, Gail, our own writer Andy, and Ian too, might encourage me to get up. Yeah right, “here’s one I wrote called ermm, ermm, and ermm!” Yet, I do love to hear Gail actually reading her poems herself, it’s a Jackanory thing, to hear the creator express their words is far more effective for a slow reader like me. But you, clever lot, will love Blossom.
Images by Gail Foster (except the one of Gail Foster)
Another gig on the final day of Devizes Arts Festival, and something a bit different for the penultimate performance of the Free Fringe – a nice portion of poetry.
Down into the dungeons of The Vaults for this one – a perfect venue for a spoken-word event (The Vaults doesn’t have a music licence). After availing myself of an appropriate libation from the wide range of craft keg and cask beers/ lagers/ ciders in the upstairs bar (where the staff were still recovering from the shock of actually getting to see and serve our esteemed leader Darren the day before [They were delighted Andy, didn’t even take my cash- Ed],) I descended into the cellar to meet the very charming Josephine Corcoran. Josephine is not only a poet, but also a playwright (having had two plays performed on BBC Radio). She also runs a regular poetry group in nearby Trowbridge.
A goodly-sized audience (including a few poetry virgins) had assembled and enjoyed two sets of poetry. In each set Josephine read both from her latest publication (“What Are You After?”) as well as some newer unpublished poems, followed by half a dozen or so local contributors in an “open mic” slot. Josephine’s contributions were thoughtful, personal and close to home, as we learned from her careful introductions to each piece. The efforts from the floor varied in style and tone (including Gail Foster’s fine villanelle regarding the passage of time and of people), comic reflections on luxury toilets and on sex, together with more personal and reflective pieces on topics such as loss of loved ones, memory, separation and even anger. Standard stuff for a Sunday afternoon down the Vaults really. But, seriously, a hugely enjoyable and well-attended event. Hopefully we can do something similar next year too.
Josephine’s latest book is called “What Are You After?” (published 2018 by Nine Arches Press) and you can find out more about her, and her poetry, at www.josephinecorcoran.org
The Vaults’ Poetry Group meets monthly at 7pm on various dates TBA. Next meeting is on Wednesday 26th June. Each month a theme is set as a prompt to inspire new work. You can come with your own work, bring poetry by someone you admire, or just come for a listen. This month, a topic suggested by the latest guest at our table is “Addiction”. Who knows where that one will go? It’s sure to be deep, with a smattering of the light-hearted and supportive conversation that is the hallmark of this poetry group. Work, screens, exercise, love – the scope for addiction is as diverse as the waves on the sea, but is there a thread that links them all? Bring along your work and let’s explore together.
And well done (yet again) to Devizes Arts Festival for putting this on as a Free Fringe event.
devizine.com 