All Together Now ...

A biographical note ...

Wife and I went along to a folk club last week. I'm not sure what I expected, but this wasn't it. "Folk" in my book is Clannad, Planxty, the Chieftains, Robert Burns songs, Woody Guthrie, early Bob Dylan. Earthy, moving, intelligent, engaged with the reality of ordinary life.

The 'warm-up' act is two men and a woman, all in the "third age" of life, performing on two squeeze-boxes and a mandolin-like instrument that sounded like a small Cornishman falling down a flight of bamboo stairs. Worryingly, they seem to know everyone else in the room, except for us. We are the youngest people present by at least 30 years. Even more worrying, the MC mentions that we are in for "an evening of Mirth and Merriment" (audible capital letters). One of them then gets up to sing a song called "William Taylor", regarding a man who was press-ganged into the navy by 20 sailors, seriously impeding his marriage plans. The chorus is reproduced below in full:

20, 18, 16, 14, 12, 10, 8, 6, 4 and 2!
19, 17, 15, 13, 11, 9, 7, 5, 3 and 1!

Gritting our teeth into what we hope to be appreciative grins, we sit it out for the main act: Judy Cook, Appalachian songstress who counts Peggy Seeger among her fans. Judy gets up on her hind legs in an embroidered waistcoat of the kind worn by people who want to be thought of as "young at heart". In a matching garment, her 'roadie', sporting a bushy white beard. Before opening her mouth, Judy bangs a little tuning fork on a table. She sings a capella, in a manner that would really be more than acceptable if she'd come round to your house for a party.

It turns out that Judy gathers songs from all over America - from the redwood forests to the New York islands, as it were - as a way of preserving the nation's vocal heritage. This is a Very Laudable Aim, but when she kicks off with not one but TWO lumberjack songs, I start to break out in a cold sweat. None of the ditties so painstakingly preserved from obscurity has any obvious merit, except possibly as children's entertainment. Ersatz ballads, unrelenting dirges and sappy-clappy singalongs. Everyone is having a great time.

At half time we slink out, smiling painfully at the folkies. We realise that these people are in what is termed second childhood. They don't want any more challenges or surprises in life. They don't want to be troubled with thoughts or questions. They don't even want wonderful music. They want to sing children's songs.

I'm glad I went. It was an experience.

Now, if only I could forget the chorus of 'William Taylor'...