Tag: tipsy gypsies

Amidst another packed summer weekend’s schedule laid that lovable large village Pewsey’s turn to shine; always a law unto itself, things went off; if it’s good enough for King Alfred…..

The Royal Oak has filled a gap, hosting quality regular music nights under the production of Wiltshire Music Events, but this Saturday was the true test, transforming it into an inaugural carpark-festival, an icing on an already delicious lardy cake, though equally a learning curve.

Programming by Eddie Prestidge, so passionate about spreading word of musicians south of the county, inevitably overbooks, as is his desire to showcase as many as feasible. He called me Friday, delightedly informing me George Wilding was added to the already jammed schedule; but how will he fit him in?! 

Thinking big; quality stage production, security, generous VIP hospitality, two food outlets, and hopeful punters would flood the site. The latter being the only dubious thing about the event. All the right ingredients there, comparable, the price reasonable, certainly got your money’s worth, but to debate only a sprinkling were attracted is opening a Pandora’s box to a general plight of austerity, flooding the festival market, or a combination of the two; every man and his dog are putting them on and there’s only so many individuals can reasonably attend.

Therefore, established festivals may well appeal over the risk of testing a new one, but I was assured here, as I suggested you should be too; Wiltshire Music Events has hosted many great ones in various locations; your money goes on production and ensuring musicians are paid their fair share, something sadly overlooked by other organisers. CrownFest and Salisbury Market Place were the most memorable, plus, whenever The Marley Experience is in the area that’s where I’m gonna be, sir! 

A win-win for me, who was due to attend the fantastic Minety but work and family commitments shadowed this; possibly an argument supporting pub mini-festivals over larger established festivals. Convenience for the middle-aged wrought with unpredictable employment culture or family commitments, above the intense arrangements necessary for a three-day camping extravaganza, such as the beautiful Minety. The mini-festival goer can be spontaneous; it’s Saturday, my only day off, sleeping in a tent is for younger nutters. I’ve  been otherwise occupied on recent weekends, so, like Peter Pan in spirit but not in body, I’m determined to make up for it this weekend!

There I be, Pewsey, dammit, in an apt Bob Marley tee, watching the grand finale ignoring the timetable; Bird is The Word captured the moment on camera! The Marley Experience professionally captivated and caused the slight crowd to appear larger, with their infectious and irresistible homage to Bob Marley & The Wailers; a matchless show, the band tight, expressive and clearly adoring the limelight of what a decade of dedication has perfected into a sublime tribute act.

But there was magic in the air prior, which opened with Pewsey-own The Little Big Band, and was followed by Rosie Jay and Leon Daye, all of which, due to aforementioned commitments, I missed; and I love Rosie Jay. Though her last single we reviewed was a duet with Salisbury’s award-winning newcomer Lucas Hardy, and on that ground alone I was delighted to catch the end of his superb set. With George Wilding penultimately added, I saw a similarity in Lucas to George’s early years, a natural and unpretentious talent who can engage an audience with a guitar and smile.

Returning from cruising tours, George Wilding doesn’t plan, doesn’t need to, he just charms as usual; if he’s an interactive human jukebox, he’s one of those polished decorative American ones from the fifties. Shout your requests, George knows it, or will give it a try, make it his own, and you’ll love him for it, you won’t be able to help yourself!

Between those two, then, a basic four-piece setup from Andover with a repertoire of rock classic covers sprinkled with a folk tinge, called The Tipsy Gypsies. Their music commanded I’d come to the right place. The premise sounds simple, the effect was far from it. They owned the stage with accomplished showmanship, stylised renditions, and a barrelful of fun.

Gypsies tipsy perfect for what would follow, a Somerset Pogues tribute known as The Phogues. Now things were going to really liven up, as, warts, a spilled round of whiskey shots, and all, were divinely caricatured. The Pogues uniquely blended Irish folk with punk, others mimicked it, overshadowing the blueprint. When Phogues return to the originators, you recall why it was copied aplenty; a stern yet fun reminder to the heyday of Shane and band’s drunken skullduggery, and the music which somehow spawned from it!

Despite being off-season, they told me they had to do “that song,” and I supposed they did. So, between Streams of Whiskey, Fiesta, Sickbed of Cuchulainn and just about every favourite Pouges song of mine, they drafted in the assistance of unsuspecting Claire Grist, singer and self-proclaimed “right tit” of Bird is the Word music promotion, to be Kirsty MacColl, and who made a good job of it. Was their female vocalist absent? No, it’s a gimmick to invite anyone from the audience to take the position, they explained to me, but hey, they didn’t need gimmicks, they did a fine job of bellowing out the beloved Pogues songs far sober than the originals ever did.

Time for a change of direction, as local indie-pop favourites Talk in Code rocked up for a lengthy set of eighties-inspired synth-rock bombs, ate complimentary curry, and lit up the stage with their electric presence. If you’ve come to an event expecting cover bands, Talk in Code don’t go there, but their infectious originals cause you to wonder if you’ve heard them before, on some Now, That’s What I Call Music compilation album from 1986. Here’s the lads in perfect sync, jumping, flaunting their perfection, as ever, doing what they love and engaging any audience from roughneck boater to FullTone Festival punter; they never fail to obtain admiration.

Time pushing on, George Wilding entertained while The Marley Experience prepared, and did their amazing thing, exploding the finale with irresistible reggae vibes. Oak Festival, Pewsey Live, or whatchamacallit, could’ve been more affordable, by skipping on some of the magic, but they chose to showcase the lot, that paid off to those there, but I suspect, as videos and images emerge, folk not there will be wondering how and why they missed it. They could have overplayed their social media promotion, and a striking poster might’ve been advantageous, yet I believe there’s a delicate balance which sees one event sellout and another left threadbare, and it’s debatable what causes this. For what it’s worth, I’ve seen lesser attended first time festivals, much less, and the slight crowd’s merriments made for a population tenfold from the reality!

There was a kebab van, but the delicious waft of curry from a stand, by Tale of Spice on Pewsey’s North Street, twisted my arm. There was little in alternative entertainment, insufficient pub loos, but with concentration on the lineup, this was a welcoming, fun and lively occasion, a showcase of Wiltshire Music Events’ quality and varied artists, and petty issues one can shrug off uncaringly when the vibe is this alive. 

Pewsey rocked into the cooling night, possibly later than planned, but no one whined on social media, because this is Pewsey, not Devizes; a carnival village where rather than rant you cannot hear your pin drop, you get your slippers on and join in! 

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