A gentleman of leisure

Having taken the option of Voluntary Severance combined with early retirement at the end of May after 20 years with Wirral Council I've been far, far too busy to post anything to my blog. I've been attending lots of folk clubs, singarounds and festivals that I hadn't previously had time for, and been getting out on country walks in North Wales and Cheshire. Last Wednesday I went for an invigorating walk up Moel Siabod with my friend Frank which rewarded our efforts with some wonderful panoramic views of Snowdonia and waves of rolling hills stretching far to the south.

In memory of Seve 1954-2011

In memory of Seve 1954-2011

Severiano Ballasteros
Was spectacular and unorthodox.
He danced a jig when he won;
He made golf fun.

Severiano Ballasteros, known universally just as "Seve" has died at the age of 54. He was a great golfer who made golf exciting to watch; he conveyed his enthusiasm in such a way that everyone who watched him play shared the thrills with him every inch of the way.

Matthew Edwards

The Dream of Napoleon

Napoleon's grave on St Helena

Napoleon died in exile on the island of St Helena 190 years ago today on 5 May 1821, although it was several weeks before the news of his death reached Europe. His body was initially buried on the island in a willow grove as shown in the illustration above taken from 'A Series of Views Illustrative of the Island of St Helena' by James Wathen, 1821 before it was transferred to Paris for reburial in 1840.

Jon Boden's song blog A Folk Song A Day features The Bonny Bunch of Roses as the song for today - a song about the enduring memory of Napoleon, but an earlier recording, for 15 August 2010 featured The Dream of Napoleon. 
This song came from the singing of the Norfolk fisherman, Sam Larner, and it expresses the myth of Napoleon as a liberator from tyrants. It may have been safer to express such views after Napoleon's death, but nevertheless it does give some evidence of one strand of English radicalism that looked to Napoleon for inspiration.

"Ye princes and rulers whose station ye bemean
Like scorpions ye spit forth venem and spleen
But liberty all over the world shall be seen
As I woke from my dream cried Napoleon."

Ships and shanties in Liverpool

There were more ships and shanty singers at the waterfront festival on the May Bank Holiday Monday, and once again the sun was out so there were huge crowds attending and enjoying the spectacle. I enjoyed hearing the Young'uns, and was bowled over by their refreshing, and invigorating (and occasionally downright silly!) approach. They sing some of their own songs which are very good, besides more traditional material.I also enjoyed hearing Bernie Davis and Keith Price sing as Liverpool Packet aboard the Zebu - it was great to hear shanties sung on a real ship.

Running Man; street sculpture opposite King's Dock

Bernie Davis and Keith Price (Liverpool Packet) aboard the Zebu

Oosterschelde in Canning Half-tide Dock

The amazing Mekkanacul Morris Men

TS Pelican at Liverpool

The Young'uns at the Maritime Museum

Sir Henry Cooper 1934-2011

 Sir Henry Cooper 1934-2011

In fond memory
Of Our 'Enry;
A gent by universal repute,
And never a Brut.

© Matthew Edwards 2 May 2011

Sir Henry Cooper, former British and Commonwealth heavyweight boxing champion, has died aged 76. He was a lovely man, kind, honest and gentle to the core - except in the boxing ring where his fierce left hook once floored Cassius Clay (as Muhammad Ali was known at the time of their fight in 1963). He won some fame after his boxing career ended from advertising Brut deodorant.

Shanties in Liverpool

After a very successful first Shanty Festival in Ellesmere Port over Easter, the focus of attention shifted to the other bank of the Mersey where the older Liverpool Shanty Festival is running over two weekends as part of the Spring on the Waterfront festival sponsored by Liverpool City Council and partners.

Here are some pictures taken on the opening day of the festival;-

Upmarket bar in Paradise Street

Crowds in Chavasse Park watching the Royal wedding

Pier Head

The floating stage

The Duckmarine dives into the "moshpit"!

Hughie Jones performing on the floating stage

Dem Liverpool gulls with their peroxide curls!

Kazimier Krunk Band playing in Liverpool One

They paved Paradise Street...

To misquote Joni Mitchell; "They paved Paradise Street, put up a shoping mall...". This Liverpool street was described by Stan Hugill in his book Sailortown as the most well-known street of Liverpool's Sailortown, and was infested by an army of prostitutes known as 'Liverpool Judies', and the street was lined with bars, brothels, and cheap boarding houses all designed to relieve the sailors of their money.

"Oh, as I was a-rollin' down Paradise Street,
Way, hay, blow the man down!
A Liverpool scuffer I chanct fer ter meet,
Oh, gimme some time ter blow the man down!"

Paradise Street in Liverpool One

The street is now part of the retail heaven developed by the Grosvenor Estate; Liverpool One, designed to relieve shoppers of their money!

Shanties in Ellesmere Port

Delicious meal at the Bunbury Arms!

Hissyfit on board the barge Bigmere

Keith Kendrick and Sylvia Needham

Bob Conroy and Hughie Jones

Evening at the Boat Museum

The first Easter Maritime Festival at Ellesmere Port Boat Museum was a great success over the Easter weekend. The warm sunny weather helped a lot in attracting crowds to come and enjoy days out among boats of all sizes. It was a very enjoyable social occasion too; good for meeting old friends and making new ones.



There were some great performances over the weekend, but the highlight for me was the Saturday evening concert with Shantyjack, Trim Rig and a Doxy, the Enkhuizen 4 who sang some lovely Dutch songs, Hughie Jones with Bob Conroy, Nine Tenths Below on a very successful first outing, and a magical performance from Hissyfit.

Congratulations to Derek and Julia for organising this event, and I'm looking forward to next year already!

Shantyjack

Trim Rig and a Doxy (Derek and Julia)

Matthew

A Song for Saint George

The historical evidence for England's patron saint, Saint George, is decidedly thin; Edward Gibbon in Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire identified George of Cappadocia, (d.361 AD) Bishop of Alexandria and a former contractor to the Roman army as the probable original for the saint. This particular George seems to have lived a far from saintly life, and was killed by a mob after he had behaved in an especially oppressive manner towards the citizens of Alexandria. 

This song attempts to find something praiseworthy to celebrate in our national saint by associating him with one of the greatest dishes in the English cuisine:-

The Ballad of Saint George

Come all you loyal English folk, and pass around the flagon;

While I sing about Saint George – though he never slew a dragon -

For the tales of this bold hero have all probably been forged,

And there’s not one single undisputed fact relating to Saint George.

According to some histories, (although they may be mistaken),

George was a black market crook, who served Roman troops with bacon.

He served them a full English, long before English was a language,

But his culinary masterpiece was the kosher bacon sandwich.

George cheated once too often, and when his customers grew angrier,

He had to flee from justice, and he decamped to Alexandria.

There he deposed the archbishop by methods quite unruly,

Became bishop in his place, and he taxed the people cruelly.

He was imprisoned for his crimes, until one December morning,

A mob of angry pagans stormed the jail without a warning.

And as they attacked the bishop he was heard to cry in anguish;

“Pray let me have one last bite of my breakfast bacon sandwich.”

George was trampled to death by the mob in all its fury,

They humped his body out of town aboard a dromedary.

Then they chopped his body up into tiny little pieces,

Then they threw them in the harbour and fed him to the fishes.

Now a paragon of virtue, George of Cappadocia ain’t,

But the cruelty of his martyrdom qualifies him as a saint.

So now in many countries, and in many a strange language,

People worship Saint George and his holy bacon sandwich.

At the Siege of Jerusalem when the English knights were famished,

In a halal market stall they discovered George’s bacon sandwich.

Which gave them strength to conquer, and in memory thereafter,

They founded in its honour the Noble Order of the Garter.

The flower of English chivalry will scorn the tasteless BLT,

White bread, brown sauce and margarine alone command our loyalty;

Cry England, Harry and St George! Salute the glorious land which

Still venerates the noble bacon sandwich.

Matthew Edwards 23 April 2010

I sang this at the Beech Inn for Saint George's Day in 2010 to some mild applause, but I have to thank Fred McCormick for some of the more outrageous rhymes which first appeared in his song of The Bacon Butty.

A sunny spring afternoon at the Beech

The Beech Band in full swing

What could be more pleasant than spending a sunny afternoon at the beach Beech in Chorlton listening to tunes from the Beech Band while drinking a pint of Copper Dragon?

These are some photos I took last Saturday, 10 April, when the sun blazed down on a little corner of Chorlton near Manchester. I arrived too late for the clog dance workshop held earlier in the morning, so I just settled down at a bench to listen to a very enjoyable tunes session.
                                                                                                                                                                   

Jenny Coxon on dulcimer

The band played a selection of tunes from what I think is now their 5th music book, while Jenny Coxon on dulcimer also played a few very interesting tunes from a forthcoming edition of an 18th century Derbyshire musical MS. Jenny's husband was sporting a particularly elegant pink seersucker jacket that raised the sartorial standards by several notches.

Ken Deeks singing 'Waters of Tyne'

 Unfortunately I forgot to cover my head so that the skin on my bald patch is now peeling in a most unsightly manner. There was some discussion during the afternoon about the new shopping mall fad for dipping one's feet into a public fishtank for fish to nibble at the dead skin, and whether this could work for other body parts. There were some very impractical suggestions for head or full body immersions, where you could see that the treatment might be on the lines of "a great success, but alas! the patient died."

Still if the enterprising brains behind the Beech Band can come up with a practical model no doubt the Chorlton Arts week in May will feature a stall offering a special scalp tonic treatment from flesh-eating fish!

Les Jones on banjo

The Alternative Voting System as practiced in Libya

The AV System in Libya

 Muammar Gaddafi is quite emphatic,
That his rule is utterly democratic:
When the people wanted someone else in his stead -
"I'll elect my own people", Gaddafi said.

© Matthew Edwards, 14 April 2011

Poetry and clog dancing

The former Poet Laureate, Sir Andrew Motion, recently commented that poetry had the same social cachet as clog dancing during an interview with The Independent. After the recent round of funding cuts by the Arts Council of England (ACE), it seems that poetry now has an even lower status. Several small presses and publishers such as Enitharmon, Flambard, Arc and Salt are going to lose all their funding from 2012. Worst of all; the Poetry Book Society (PBS) which has done such an excellent job in promoting poetry since 1953, is also to lose all its ACE funding. This is a particularly savage and barbaric act since the PBS has done more than most to raise the profile of poetry today. The current Poet Laureate, Carol Ann Duffy, has published an angry response in today's Guardian in the form of a parody of Louis MacNeice's Bagpipe Music:-

"It's no go, dear PBS. It's no go sweet poets.
Sat on your arses for fifty years and never turned a profit.
All we want are bureaucrats, the nods as good as winkers.
And if you're strapped for cash, go fish, then try the pigging bankers."

I like the not-so-subtle omitted rhyme of "bankers" and "wankers". In the extensive notes to her poem Duffy quotes the poet Carol Rumens:- "The withdrawal of Arts Council England support for the PBS is an incomprehensible act of vandalism."

The ACE has had a very difficult balancing act in deciding how to allocate the misery of cuts, but the cutting of the PBS funds is definitely a cut too far. On the other hand I'm delighted to note that ACE has decided to continue its support for the English Folk Dance and Song Society, with significantly increased funding.

On a lighter note here's a poetic tribute to one of the finest clog dancers of all, Sam Sherry 1912-2001:-

Poetry in motion

His feet land with a snap
and a slap;
with a rapid tappity-tap his heels
spin like wheels
before coming to a full stop.

Then a leap, and a hop,
and off he goes
heels and toes
forward and back
clickety-clack.
That's the way to do it; and now
he makes a low bow.

© Matthew Edwards 2010

Bound for South Australia

My sister and her family are about to fly out to Australia from Scotland for an extended Easter break; they may think that they are escaping the Royal Wedding fever currently infecting the British media but I firmly believe that they will find themselves trapped in some outpost of the old Empire where Prince William is worshipped as a minor deity!
Anyway here is a wonderful Youtube clip of the "last shantyman", Stan Hugill, leading a vigourous chorus including Johnny Collins, Jim Mageean, Danny MacLeod, Shanty Jack and Mike and Steve Wilson in 'Bound for South Australia'.

Bon Voyage!

Matthew

Born in the NHS

A friend who is 62 today is very active in campaigning against the so-called "reforms" to the NHS promoted by the Health Secretary Andrew Lansley - reforms which threaten to undermine the whole ethos of free and universal healthcare in Britain. So here is a little song by way of a birthday present for her.

Born in the NHS

I was born in Britain after the War.

My parents knew what they were fighting for;

It wasn’t King and Country they aimed to save,

But to get a Welfare State from cradle to grave.

I was born in the NHS;

Nye Bevan spoke

And my mother said, “Yes,

I want to give birth in the NHS.”

I don’t want choice in 57 varieties,

I want high quality not Big Society.

I put my trust in my doctor and nurse,

Don’t make them put their budgets first.

I was born in the NHS;

Nye Bevan spoke

And my mother said, “Yes,

I want to give birth in the NHS.”

Nye Bevan promised us, loud and clear,

A civilised community, free from fear;

So Mr Lansley, don’t make it a mess –

It’s mine, it’s yours, it’s our NHS.

I was born in the NHS;

Nye Bevan spoke

And my mother said, “Yes,

I want to give birth in the NHS.”

© Matthew Edwards 6 April 2010

From Matthew for Corrie to wish her a Happy Birthday.

Note: A recent Diary article in the London Review of Books by Andrew O’Hagan  tellingly contrasted the forthright clarity of the language used by Bevan in introducing his National Health Bill in 1946 with the obfuscatory prose used by Andrew Lansley in his proposals for reforming the NHS. While Bevan's speech is worth reading in its entirety there are some resonant phrases which deserve to be recalled at this time:-

            “I believe it is repugnant to a civilised community for hospitals to have to rely upon private charity. I believe we ought to have left hospital flag days behind. I have always felt a shudder of repulsion when I have seen nurses and sisters who ought to be at their work, and students who ought to be at their work, going about the streets collecting money for the hospitals.”

 And

            “... the first evil that we must deal with is that which exists as a consequence of the fact that the whole  thing is the wrong way round. A person ought to be able to receive medical and hospital help without being involved in financial anxiety.”

Matthew Edwards

In Memoriam: Elizabeth Taylor 1932-2011

Dame Elizabeth Taylor
Has died of heart failure;
Alas! She's faced her final curtain
And gone for a Burton.

© Matthew Edwards, 2 April 2011

A great record shop - Coda Music

There aren't many record shops left today, and still fewer which specialise in folk and world music. So it is good news when one such shop seems to be making a success against all the odds. This is Coda on the Mound in Edinburgh which has a huge stock of excellent CDs, books and magazines and where the staff are knowledgable and very helpful.

I could happily spend a lot of time and money here - and I just did so during a short trip to Edinburgh!
I hope the shop continues to be a success so I can go back again for more.

Matthew Edwards

The art of busking badly; "There's brass in codology."

Wilfred Pickles as "Owd Thatcher" in the BBC
Northern Regional radio programme 'Under
the Barber's Pole' written by Tommy Thompson

In 'The Trumpeter', another story from Lancashire Pride, the Lancashire dialect writer Tommy Thompson tells the story of Joe Slater "the highly esteemed cornet player of the Beesham Temperance Silver Band" and his encounter with a pavement artist on the same instrument whose playing puts his teeth on edge. Joe demonstrates to the busker just how the cornet ought to be played, but is then thoroughly disconcerted when the street "hartist" completely outplays him;-

"Ah axed thee afore," said the player. "Han' we getten any brass wi' thi good playin'?"
"Not a sausage," said Joe.
"There's no money in good playin'," said the player. "Thee ax th' Hallé lot."
"There's no money in bad playin' either," said Joe lamely "Is there?"
"There's brass in codology," said the player. "Tha has to get sympathy."
"Tha didn't get mine," said Joe.
"Ah worn't playin' for thee," said the player. "Ah have me own public. Sithee...we'll go up this narrer street an' Ah'll show thee. Thee stop on th' flags."
He went into the middle of the street and blew "Home Sweet Home" as though it was the first time he had heard it. Joe covered his ears with his hands and watched the hat fill with coppers.
"What did Ah tell thee," said the player as he filled his pockets. "Codology! Tha con keep thi art for art's sake. What about slippin' in for a quick un?"
"Ah could do wi' one," said Joe. "Ah'm stunned."

If capitalism is the answer then what was the question?

One of the few pleasures of the current global financial crisis has been the emergence of John Lanchester as a writer on economics. His articles on the topic in the London Review of Books are classics of clear explanatory writing; like Cobbett he uses plain English prose to get to the heart of the matter, so that the reader actually understands it.

He has now written a book Whoops! which is probably one of the best guides to the mysterious world of high finance since J K Galbraith's account of the Wall Street Crash.

His analysis of the economic and political climate in which  the crisis occurred is that with the collapse of Communism the capitalist Western countries no longer had a comparator to demonstrate to their citizens that their model delivered a better way of life. When the Berlin Wall fell the capitalist model stood supreme and unchallengeable.

If anyone dared to suggest 'there must be another  way' the West could reasonably respond; 'Show me.' John Lanchester's book shows quite clearly the consequences of allowing capitalism to go unchallenged and unregulated. He exposes the sloppy thinking behind the belief that a free market regulates itself, as well as the sheer intimidatory power that the market uses to prevent any form of regulation.

Now the West has been forced to embrace a strange sort of social capitalism and take the banks that were Too Big To Fail into various schemes of public ownership. However these act like cuckoos in the nest, greedily requiring so much for their own sustenance that they choke off almost all other forms of public activity. The business of government becomes providing a life support system for business itself, with the bank threatening to die if the system is switched off - and to take the government, and the country with it. However at some point the banks that have been Too Big To Fail are going to become Too Big To Rescue - there simply won't be any resources left to sustain them. What happens then?

What will we do if we have no money?
O true lovers, what will we do then?
O we'll hawk through the town for a hungry crown,
And we'll yodel it over again.
(Mary Delaney's song)

Matthew Edwards

RNID name change

Action on Hearing Loss

I've just received the new issue of the RNID magazine one in seven, which announces the new campaigning name for this charity: Action on Hearing Loss. It is a good change in that it does capture the essense of what the RNID is about, and it is much better than the current confusing set of initials (my bank for example seems to think that I'm paying my membership subscription to the RNIB - but I've checked and despite getting the name wrong they are sending my money to the right place!)

However the new name is still rather a mouthful; I don't know what the other options were but I would have quite liked HearingAid, or DeafAid or even DeafAction. I am not personally a BSL user, but I hope the redesigned logo will find a way to incorporate a stylised combination of the signs for 'deaf' and 'action'.

Anyway there will be an opportunity to comment on proposed changes to the logo, colours and fonts through an online survey open from Monday 18 October to Sunday 29 October at www.rnid.org.uk/brand2.

Matthew

New hearing aid

I've been wearing my new hearing aid since February this year, and I've just been back to my audiologist for a review. I had to report that I've been absolutely delighted with it; it's the best one I've ever used. I hardly ever touch the volume controls any more as the aid is sensitive to the different acoustic environments I go through and adjusts itself automatically. The windblock technology is a special advantage as I can now go walking in the country and up in the hills without having to put up with the wind howling in the microphone; I used to have to switch my old hearing aid off when walking up Snowdon &c because the noise from the wind was just unbearable!
I chose a silver coloured aid this time (it matches my hair!); perhaps next time I'll be bolder and choose a bright primary colour like the ones David Hockney wears. I don't want to hide my deafness by wearing a "discreet" device which nobody can tell is there.
All the same it is amazing how much is packed into such a tiny device; as a child I wore a bulky body aid which I clipped into my shirt pocket and which was connected to the earpiece by a long wire. I hated the rustling noise from clothing, but to this day I still always choose shirts with a breast pocket.
The aid is a Phonak Versáta Micro; it is a powerful device which suits my fairly severe hearing loss. I'm looking forward to future developments which will enable me to connect easily to my mobile phone and other devices.
I got the aid privately; it cost me a lot but it is just so much better than my NHS aid that I reckon the higher quality is well worth paying for. I'm keeping hold of my NHS aid as a spare, though.
I'm still having to relearn to listen to music, and to join in singing effectively, as the new aid protects my ears from sudden surges in volume. There is a special music programme available for the aid which I'll look at on my next audiology review.

Matthew