For Folk`s sake!

Evening strumpets,

So me and Northern Banjo Boy himself aka Andy Dalton, decided it would be a good idea to play at an "open Mic" spot which a friend of Andy`s had suggested, Andy mentioned it on the night of the October jam, and it`d been a while since Id got up, so i thought it would be worth a shout.

After finally finding Andy`s place (or rather him finding me after twenty minutes of driving aimlessly around his hometown, and half a dozen calls on the hands free resulting in "I`ll be stood at the roundabout waving")we were off on our adventure.

Both nervous, the journey to the Pub was interesting. It just kept going and going. We eventually pulled into the Village of Ainderby Quernhow (no that`s what it`s called) and found the Pub. The Black Horse Inn. The night was wild, blowing a gale, and pitch black, and into the Inn we walked. Neither of us were prepared for what we found.

There were maybe twenty people in there, and amongst the customers was a table surrounded by musicians. Proper musicians. Proper folk musicians. Proper good folk musicians. We were greeted really warmly by Stephen, who`s brain child the evenings are, who bought us drinks and told us to take a seat with the musicians. The banjo`s weren`t even out of the bags before we`d informed everyone present that we`d only been playing eighteen and ten months respectively.

The group played a folk song, and we noticed a guy appear who had a couple of extraordinary traditional Mandolins. This guy was a serious Professional, with an amzing voice, called Iain Glover. This was hardcore Folk Muso`s. Andy and I looked like mice who`d accidentally walked into Felix the Cat`s Stag Do. "Time for the banjo players" somebody said. And off we went with Cripple Creek.

We weren`t half bad either. Fiddle, Mandolin, and Accoustic six String joined in, and we got through it pretty well. Even got a round of applause. Then we decided to try Foggy Mountain Breakdown, a song which takes at least half a dozen practices before sounding even remotely wrong most nights. we murdered it,to quote Blackadder, "If not very nearly dead, then very really dead". At this point Andy felt the need to go for a pint, and discretely dissapeared into the snug.

I enjoyed playing along with the other musicians, even attempted Duelling banjo`s, which is very difficult when you`re duelling with a fiddle. And of course whilst there was a lull in the proceedings felt the need, almost Tourettes like, to ask "Does anybody want to hear a pop song"?

Whic is how I found myself on a wild and windy night, in an Inn in deepest darkest North Yorkshire, In front of an open coal fire with the wind battering the Moors outside, playing S-Club 7...on the banjo....to a bunch of seasoned fantastic folkies.

Went down rather well I thought. Then it was time for Curry and Rice, or sausage and chips (all free), and a chat with the others. Turns out they`re really good people who just enjoy playing and listening to live music, at any level. We`ve been asked to go back, it happens on the last Sunday of each month.

We`ve been asked to go back, and I can heartily recommend the night. WE may need to practice a bit more though. Having said that, Do you fancy it again at the end of the month Andy? (awaiting comment of No! any minute).

Till the next one, keep smiling,

Mark.