Acoustic Night

Hazel Hammond was our MC for the night and opened with a poem about temptation in the form of a scent bottle that transported us to exotic worlds.

Charlie Ansell then took us to Musselburgh Field and on into a song sung in old English and Scots about the 1^st King George of England.  Blood, guts and passion, Charlie folks my world in the same way that acoustic night rocks my world, if that makes sense.  The Green Man festival needs you, Charlie.

Anna Freeman was not being shy and reflective and had us hooting with a poem about Gingers (BTW we’re called Ginghas in Brissle – think Gingham but with an ‘er’ on the end).  We (Gingers, that is – yep, I is one) are oppressed horribly, but being the ‘cockroaches in the genetic pool’, we shall overcome. Hilarious and biting.  Then followed a supreme pantoom about love, despair and tequila.  Very clever, very fine – Anna is a gobsmith of the first order.

Carly and Graham sang songs about dismal failing relationships ‘building bridges and burning them down’ in Lighthouse and ‘before you go, tell me who you bloody are’ in Say Goodbye.  Carly’s lovely soaring voice and their overall sound reminded me of The Beautiful South.  And after these songs of longing and loss all I can say is that I hope the wedding goes well, Carly!

John Terry gave us a new take on trainspotting in his perfect poem about a tennis starlet ‘trailing paparazzi like a scarf’ and inventing the ‘perfect off court sport’ of paintballing passing trains.  He followed that with ‘Bristol Time Slip’ where he put the Real Time Information from Bristol buses through his reality check and found it to be …. Lost.  A twisted expose of the ‘dumb insolence of the timetable’, this poem showed John at his sci-fi finest.

Mark and Katie got us tapping our feet and grinning broadly with their songs I Need You Now and It Takes Two.  They are a father and daughter duo and highly rated by Gina Briganti, which is praise indeed.  Katie was playing what looked like a piece of mdf but is in fact a percussion box called a Cajon.  Wonderful sound, tight and professional – great songs, great vibes, great things predicted for these two.  We knew them when…

James gave us a well crafted prose poem, Budapest, which laid out the body of the city for us and invited us to run our fingers around it and see what we would find ‘ashes, still warm …. moss’.  I could have done with another poem from this fine writer and the same is true of Agatha who performed Yin and Yang, a poem full of strong images of ‘long lifeless minutes’, her voice matching her words perfectly.

Piers is my mate and it was great to see him back on stage, faffing brilliantly and singing songs full of brilliant lines like ‘words get stuck in the back of my throat like autumn leaves when the rain sets in’ and ‘how the sky looks depends on where you are’.  He doesn’t know the titles of the songs but with lines like those, who cares?  Thanks for playing for us, Piers.  Now fuck of back to Istanbul, why don’cha?

After the break Cat Kidd took the stage as the Acoustic Night special guest.  Cat was ‘fresh’ from Glastonbury and produced a stunning set, pouring her mind, body and soul into her work.  Her poems are long and intricate but I never wanted them to end.  She links different thought strands with powerful themes and brings each piece full circle, equally satisfying and intentionally disturbing.  I cannot possibly do justice to her four poems – Bipolar Bear, Lion Queen, Human Fish and Sea Peach – here, but I know they are available in books and on CDs so suggest you seek them out.  I’ll take a lot from her set, particularly that ‘things do become more valuable when they are nearly extinct’ and that seeing healthy-looking children in Africa who are dying ‘fucks with your head, and it should’.  Creatures shape shift into her poems and Cat unpacks them and learns her life from them, sharing her findings with us, her breathless and grateful audience.  I loved every minute of it.  Physical, lyrical, beautiful.  Thank you, Cat.

Hazel is a great MC, ensuring each act was fully appreciated by the audience and creating fresh space for each performer or duo.  With New Root having to follow the intense performance from Cat, Hazel cleared the air with an epigram from a friend, showing the acceptable side of bind-weed – Morning Glory.

New Root were then welcomed to the stage and clearly they belong there.  They normally play with a full band, but rose to the challenge of the acoustic night with aplomb, playing two fabulous songs, Sick of Me and I Don’t Need to Tell You.  Trish has a great voice and gives it full rein, or is that reign?  Only problem is that I was so wrapped up in her singing that I nearly missed the complex talent of Dave’s guitar backing.  I’m glad I didn’t.  New Root are powerful and gentle at the same time – top stuff.  Special guests of the future, I hope (hint hint to Andi and co).

Julian Ramsey Wade is always special and started off by splitting our sides with his homage to George W Bush and his election victimory of 2004.  Problem was that I was laughing so hard I couldn’t take notes, managing only to record his mention of ‘ethnical minatours’ for ethnic minorities – and it is possible I’ve misquoted that…you had to be there.  Ju then did a requested piece (thanks, man) pleading for our protection of this planet’s perfection and to put a stop to  ‘Pointless wars fought over nature’s bric a brac’.  Inspirational, as ever.

Barry, a self confessed Bristolian singer/songwriter took the stage and became the Bill Nighy of Acoustic Night, charming us all with a love song for Christine in a highly polished performance.  In Eiderdown, Barry’s lyrics ran away with him but they came back and provided the rhyme of the night:  France/Ambulance…well worth waiting for.  Barry was an acoustic night virgin but treated us to a pro performance.  Is that offensive?  I hope not.

Helen Gregory survived organising Poetry and Words at Glastonbury and can now put ‘wheelbarrow driver to the stars’ on her CV.  Her Much To Be Said About Fish poem (for Sebastian, known as Bass) reeled us in (groan) and provided much laughter.  Touchpaper has brilliant bitter-sweet moments and makes me feel incompetent and ‘I mean that in the nicest way’.  I hope you get some time for rest, relaxation and writing soon, Helen.

Vincent was next and sang two covers ‘of Rufus Wainwright doing covers of Leonard Cohen’ – perfect.  Vincent has talent dripping from his tongue and fingers.  He nailed Chelsea Hotel (actually I have no idea if that’s the title of the song or not…anyone?) getting to the raw essence of the song.  In Everybody Knows he let in some wonderful breathless pauses, giving flight to this classic number.  Just what I needed, having missed L. Cohen Esq at Glastonbury.

Who better to round off the night than Andi Langford Woods who took us on a tour of seedy park life in the sixties…or was that a romp around swinging London in one of the many summers of love?  Either way it showed not much has changed with respect to plod’s attitude to al fresco sleeping.  The final poem of the evening was in honour of Andi’s carpet that formed the Acoustic Night stage for many months.  That carpet saw many seductions and had good vibes soaked into it’s weave, in the same way that Acoustic Night seeps into us, leaving our hearts in better shape and our souls full of hope.  Ahhhh.

Thanks for a great night, everyone, see you soon.

Thanks Polly Moyer for the blog. Who’s next?

ACOUSTIC NIGHT STATS

AUDIENCE 39

PERFORMERS 18

VIRGINS 5

PHOTOS  Sadly none that were good enough to use. We really need someone who can use a digital SLR to capture the moments!

I have been asked on numerous occasions to blog Acoustic Night, but have always refused. This is not because I don’t care, it’s because I’m not sure I can cope with the blogger’s responsibility - should I be honest, admitting that maybe I don’t like what I’m hearing or do I simply big-up everyone. I also find it difficult to concentrate on all of the acts, particularly when I haven’t been on myself yet, or when I’m gagging for a cigarette, or when nature is calling (to either go pee or get another pint in – the two are usually linked). However, Ian asked me again, and, succumbing to the principal of ‘do one thing that scares you every day’, I accepted the challenge.

Julian started the night with this short poem:

Here’s the church, here’s the steeple,
Open the door - where’s all the people?

Referring to the disappointing turn out for the start of the evening; especially considering the guests that were lined up. However we are troopers, so we marched on…

First to the mic was David Johnson (aka David C Johnson), who read us a couple of poems, the first of which was new to me and described his ‘first full carnal romp’ on a beach in a seaside town somewhere on the south coast. David admitted that the main memory he had of that night was his brain repeating over and over, probably in both hormonal relief and joyful teenage disbelief ‘She’s letting me in, letting me in, letting me in!’ The second piece was a short tribute to Beryl Cook, recently deceased artist, famous for painting rather large ladies at play, describing Beryl as ‘dead, like Bacon’ (the artist, not the meat)

Next we had a first timer taking the now warmed-up stage: Jill. She was nervous. Too nervous to read one of her own poems, but said she would work up to that, so she read, to my delight, one of my favourite all-time poems about poetry by Billy Collins, An Introduction to Poetry. Jill managed, despite her nerves, to read the poem clearly and not rush it. Hopefully we’ll see Jill with some of her own words soon.

After Jill was Julian Ramsey-Wade, Or J-Words as he was known when he wrote the song he performed tonight. I’m not sure of the title of this piece. In my mind it’s called ‘The Scarred and Scary Lady’ and it tells of characters he has seen living in and around the Bearpit at the end of Stokes Croft. Sympathetically describing what they do to survive and how they entertain themselves, despite their desperate lives. It’s an old favourite and a pleasure to hear again.

John Terry then delivered two poems for our delectation (What is it with all the J’s in the names tonight? – John, Julian, Jill and Johnson!)
The first (apologies John, I missed the title of it) was based around the names of different types of screws found in a DIY trade catalogue, and described a mans obsessive love for, and collecting of, said screws – a sort of screw spotter – who loses his passion when a builder offers him a whole boxful and the thrill of his rare finds is suddenly devalued. John then casually added, as an afterthought, that the judges of the competition he had recently entered it for, described it as ‘the most unusual poem we’ve seen’ and he won £50 for it. John Terry is successful in another poetry competition – well done John.

Unfortunately I drifted off during John’s next poem. My notes seem to say it was called ‘Dictated by Captivity’ and featured explorers misunderstanding trees and collecting leaves which inevitably lose their glossy green sheen and turn brown and lifeless once plucked,. There must have been some reason I was distracted, I’m sure it wasn’t John’s poem or voice, as both are a treat to listen to.

Gina Briganti followed next. Her rich vibrato voice bringing what she describes as her ‘Abolition 200 medley’ to our soothed ears. This piece is a sort of song/rap/ poem entitled ‘Do I Know’ stating Gina’s feelings about the slave trade and ending with the refrain ‘Money has no soul’. No truer a word was said/sung. Gina followed this with a new song called ‘No Pleasure’. At this point I was definitely distracted, as I was up next. Sorry, Gina, I’d love to hear it again when I’m not so pre-occupied

This part of the blog, since it is about me, was written by Gina, honest.

Pete Hunter
1. An interesting and witty piece about the male totem.
2. ‘Goldfish swim in their own piss’.
There are no wasted words and an enquiring intelligence. Original and very entertaining.

Right, blushing over, I’ll get on to the next performer, and performer is the right word to describe this man.

Miles Chambers regaled us with his poem inspired by the visit of a TV dating show to Acoustic Night sometime last year. In response to the visit, Miles has written a poem describing himself and what he wants/would like in a partner, just in case the TV people come back. The poem is full of comedy and promises, but ends with the warning “If my girlfriend finds out she’ll kill me” Careful Miles!
Miles’ second piece was newly memorised poem about belonging in Bristol called ‘I Belong Here’. In his wonderfully passionate way, Miles described both the good and bad reasons he had for loving the city and shared with us the fond and not so fond memories he had of growing up here. One, amongst many of the lines that stuck out for me, was how he enjoyed living “amidst the prayers of peace on the walls of Bristol’s heart”.

With this thought ringing in our own hearts we took a break

By the time the second part of the night started, the audience had swelled to a room filling number. In fact there were not enough chairs, so there was standing room only at the back, which is always gratifying to see.

What I haven’t mentioned so far, is the stage set-up tonight. On stage there was a small Bedouin tent, decorated with colourful designs and harbouring similarly patterned cushions and curious musical instruments. Above this the letters spelling out Acoustic Night, white on the black back-cloth, floated like stars in a night sky. The reason for this is about to become apparent. Our special guests, and we were truly blessed to have them with us, were The Bedouin Jerry-Can Band, taking a sneaky night off from their UK tour. This band of 9 skilled musicians and singers hailing from Sinai, began their set with a couple of poems in Egyptian, one I believe was about the Suez Canal, which opened 50 years ago.
There then came a plaintive keening from a flute-like instrument, which eloquently brought to mind the vast emptiness of the desert, setting a scene that soon erupted into joyful drumming, plucking, bowing and strumming that had everyone jigging about in their seats, beating out the rhythms with their bodies. I recognised the sounds of nearly all of the instruments the band were playing, but could not name them, however the enthusiasm and delight portrayed by the musicians with their soaring tunes was unmistakable.

The songs were rousing and lively, so much so that several people got up to dance with the band, despite the heat and lack of floor-space. At one point we were introduced to ‘two new traditional instruments’ that the band had brought with them – the jerry can and the ammunition box – both found discarded after the war in the 60’s and aptly employed to make blissful music, a magical sort of swords to ploughshares transformation. This was a full, no-holds barred show and the audience lapped it up, grinning and clapping along.

Thank you guys for this great experience; and thanks to Andi for making it so.

*VIDEO CLIPS ON OUR MYSPACE SOON

The person with the unenviable task of following this stunning set was Pete Hogg, but Pete had no trouble at all. His first poem honestly explored the self-doubt most performers have by splitting his personality into two parts, one part being the poet reading the poem, the other being the voice inside the poets head, questioning and belittling what the poet is doing. I think of this as the ‘Gollum poem’, as the critical voice takes the form of Gollum (from Lord of the Rings for those who don’t know the books/films) This is a very popular piece and must ring true with a lot of performers as the laughter raised by the constant switching between the two characters indicates an uneasy recognition of the ‘condition’ in the audience.
Pete then warmed up his philosophical piece ‘A Game of Chance’ as he intends to perform it at the festivals he’ll be attending this summer. It’s a rhyming rhythmic discussion of the nature of existence “This appears to be a game of chance, of circumstance”. Another hit from the Hogg.

Finally, with special permission to break the two poem rule, Pete read out a freshly penned piece dedicated to Pat West who ran the Poetry and Words tent at Glastonbury Festival and sadly died on the 14^th June, just two days before this Acoustic Night. In the audience were several poets that Pat had given the opportunity to perform at Glastonbury and I think we were all grateful that Pat’s passing was marked in such a fond and poetic way.

(At this point I witnessed my scariest moment of the evening.
There was a drunken bloke who had been whispering very loudly for most of the evening, especially when the poets were on, and despite Hazel Hammond having a gentle word with him to ask him to please be quieter, he continued to stage-whisper to his female companion at the back of the room while Pete was reading his poem dedicated to Pat. I looked up from my notes towards the stage and caught Hazel giving the noisy bloke her hardest Paddington stare and pointing the finger of dire warning at him! For a second I panicked, thinking it was me in trouble, but realised that Hazel’s aim was true and her laser-beam of warning was searing past my shoulder and burning into the noisy bloke’s heart. Phew. Unfortunately the noisy bloke couldn’t seem to keep his trap shut for more than a few seconds, so he continued to irritate from the back until he decided he was bored, and with much disruptive fuss eventually left.

It is annoying that some people don’t seem to have the facility to respect the performers, and I guess there will always be (at least) one, so I suppose we’ll have to put up with it as best we can. Selfish gits!)

Following Pete were the Bartones, a six-piece harmony choir accompanied on guitar by Everton Hartley, who also arranges their songs. Their first song was Paper Moon, which wavered a little in performance, but their rendition of River Deep, Mountain High was a more relaxed and enthusiastic affair. Hope to see you all back soon.

Ian Sills then told us of his love for the larger woman through his poem ‘Fern ‘n’ Lisa’, dedicated to Fern Britton and Lisa Tarbuck and cleverly based on Beethoven’s tune Fur Elise.
He followed this with his ‘Apology to Eminem’, a confessional piece about Ian’s admiration for the skills of said rapper, and how Ian thinks Eminem would be mortified to find that that his music was admired by someone who is ‘middle aged, middle class, middle - like a small van’ (one of my favourite ever lines from Mr Sills.)

Returning to the stage, Miles Chambers, informed us in his powerful and passionate style how he ‘Wants to be Treated Normal’. An explanation of how frustrated he feels when he still finds some people see the colour of his skin first and stop there, not getting to know who he is inside.
Following this, and dedicated to Pat West, was Miles’ poem written in memory of a friends father and based on the W H Auden poem commonly known as ‘Stop all the Clocks’ (real title- Funeral Blues). This is a barnstormer of a poem, by turns both angry and tender, accurately summing up the frustration and sorrow at a loved one’s death, and Miles always delivers it with perfect grace. Many eyes were brimming by the end.

The call then went out for anarchy hour and Reece took to the stage to read a freshly penned regretful piece about how he feared he’d ruined his relationship this weekend, stating ‘I’ve never felt like this before…’ Good luck with that Reece.

Bartones and Everton then gave us their version of Going to the Chapel, to which we all sang along, and finally Julian rounded off the evening by performing a poem lovingly dedicated to his dad, that told us of his boyhood pride in knowing that ‘all the kids knew that you were just so cool’.

I have a final note to add about this great fulfilling evening. During the break, a ‘famous’ TV presenter appeared and sat quietly near the back of the room to watch the performances. Nick Knowles is the best known as the presenter of DIY SOS, amongst other prime time TV shows, and in our inimitable laid-back Bristol way we made no fuss of the fact that such a well known personality was amongst us. However, from where I was sitting I could see through the corner of my eye, that Mr Knowles was tapping his foot, smiling and generally enjoying proceedings, so, since I was responsible for the blog, I approached him for a quote about what he’d seen, a sort of media endorsement of Acoustic Night.

This is what he said: “It’s a fantastic combination of an evening with everything for everybody. Who’d have thought you could wander into the back of a Bristol pub and hear singing from the Sinai desert, 6 part harmony and such wonderful, powerful and funny performances - such a different and culturally entertaining evening.”

What a nice man, and, to be honest, I couldn’t have put it better myself.
I expect that quote will be used in Acoustic Night publicity for years to come!

Thank you to all the performers and the Acoustic Night crew.

And thanks to Pete Hunter for the blog.

ACOUSTIC NIGHT STATS

AUDIENCE 50+
PERFORMERS 27
VIRGINS 16!!!