My friends Grant and Lan gave me a copy of Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music Vol.4 for my birthday this year. This song, originally sung by Uncle Dave Macon is particularly prescient considering the current economic climate and my line of work. Bah!

Thanks for the CD though guys – its ace!

Mucking about in “Double C” tuning after a long, stressful day at work.

After having a really good time playing at a session on Sunday I decided to give it another shot.  The Antiquary pub is within walking distance from our flat and it has a session on a Thursday night.  It’s listed in the Edinburgh Gig Guide as an “informal session” so I thought I’d give it a try.

I packed up my banjo and uke and headed off to the pub and ordered up a pint before sitting down to where I assumed the session would be happening.  I tried to introduce myself and make small talk (which is really hard for me as I’m not very outgoing).  Most folks just kind of ignored me and carried on in their conversations so I sat in silence for for around twenty minutes occasionally nodding to the other “new guy” in the bar who looked equally uncomfortable.  This guy had his wife sitting next to him and she didn’t look best pleased to be there.

Folks start getting their instruments out of bags and next thing an Antipodean woman supervised the lifting of a rather large harp to the corner of the table.  She rudely banished the people who were already sitting at the table who were “not musicians” and then instructed New Guy’s wife to move.  At this point New Guy’s wife storms out of the pub.  New Guy follows behind.  Oh joy!

I start to notice that I am the only person around the table who doesn’t have a beard.  I was the only one not wearing a chunky knit jumper. “It’s like  the effing Wicker Man!” – I thought to myself

After another ten minutes of feeling about as welcome as a lion at a zebra convention,  I decided this wasn’t the place for me. ” Bugger this” – I thought.  I didn’t want to be made to feel crap sharing something I enjoy. I grabbed my bags and snuck out.

Maybe next time I should scope places out first before rocking up to a folk-session.

Still, I’m looking forward to my next adventure.  Gives me more time to practise.

If you’re around the Antiquary on a Thursday night and you start to hear songs about the “Landlord’s daughter” – Get the Hell out of there!

This weekend was pretty manic.  We stayed up all night with the church youth group we volunteer for at their annual Easter Vigil.   Much coffee and chocolate was consumed and we rounded the night off nicely with a wee campfire and S’mores – afterwhich I found myself with severe sugar shock…

…so a couple of hours kip later I decided to head back out to Portobello, near Edinburgh to join a Sunday afternoon folk session. 

I’d been humming and hawing about this for weeks now.  I’m pretty comfortable playing in the bedroom but out in public is a whole other story.  After walking into the Dalriada pub and hearing the quality of the musicians at the table I almost turned heel and walked straight back out the door.  There was a banjo player playing three finger style who may have given Scruggs himself a run for his money, a fiddle player, three guitarist/singers, a lefty switching between guitar and clawhammer banjo and me with my ukulele and trusty banjo.

Me – “Any chance I can sit in?  I’m not that good so please be gentle”
Fiddle Player – “Aye, but y’ell hae tae gie us a song”
Me – “Oh Dear” (actually it was a more profane reply but like I said; I’d been up all night)

So off they went, and I tried to keep up.  And they were relatively gentle.  I have to confess chickening out of a couple of solo breaks after a nod came in my direction and I’ve got a world of stuff to learn but it was such a buzz to be playing with proper musicians who seemed so comfortable as to be part of the furniture. 

I don’t know if it was because it was Easter Sunday or because it was such a lovely day but the place was rammed and it was amazing hearing a hundred-odd folks singing along to the likes of “Whiskey in the Jar” and “I’ll Fly Away” as well as some of the Scottish classics too.  The three hours flew by!

Now I’m going to get my “learn on” and prepare for the next session.  Sorry Mish – Better get some earplugs!