I've Got News For You

So Wednesday night’s practice then, a rather subdued affair, I think everyone was tired after the exertions of the previous two weekends. We practiced a few dances, took the newer members through a few more, and your drummer had his customary three pints of Symonds cider. The Spain-Portugal match was on in the bar, and a small crowd of locals were in attendance.

We had some discussion on amplified music. Our band consists of four main members, guitarist Clive, accordion and fiddle player Ian, melodeon and mouth organ player Dave, and myself on percussion. Since the start, we have used small battery amps in an attempt to balance the sound. The problem that we have is trying to enable the quieter instruments to be heard alongside the drums and boxes.

We’ve experimented extensively with this and are, we think, justifiably proud of our fairly unique sound. During one mad moment we were even asked if we do cds! The music we produce is not particularly loud in the scheme of things, I would even argue that it’s not as loud as a big band with three or four boxes and a couple of drums. So where’s the problem? The Licencing Act 2003 makes it illegal to  perform any music in public without there being an entertainments licence in force. There is a helpful exemption for Morris dancers regarding live unamplified music. So that leaves us out in the cold somewhat.

A chance conversation with my nephew, a guitarist in a band, however, brought some good news. The Live Music Act 2012 was a private members bill which sought to  change some of the act, negating the requirement for a licence for venues with an audience under 200. The Morris exemption rewords to “live accompaniment”.  This comes into force in October, and is the work of tireless campaigning from, among others, Feargal Sharkey and Hamish Birchall. The peer responsible is Tim Clement-Jones, who tabled the private members bill.

So if you are out this weekend, in a pub somewhere, and happen across a fiddle player and an accordionist in the corner, raise a glass to Feargal, and Hamish, and Tim.  Young bands and musicians need the smaller venues to learn their trade. The Licencing Act 2003 was slowly killing off grass roots music in the UK.

As for ourselves, well we’ll just ensure that all our venues have a licence until October, when they will no longer be necessary. Hurrah for a happy ending!

Dancing at the Gates of Dawn, and beyond.

"So why exactly do we do it then?"  That's not your question to me, by the way. It's my question to my wife, as I searched for a sock under the dog's bed in the camper van at 3.45am. We had been camped up, since about 11pm the previous evening on a small dirt track with no toilet facilities, no anything really, close to a busy road, somewhere near Stonehenge. It was still dark, but only just; on the Eastern horizon a faint glimmer could be seen. We, Wytchwood Morris, some pagans from Birmingham, and a Side-With-No-Name had gathered two days after the official solstice for a little ceremony of our own. Hopefully we might even see the sun this year.......
The pagans were late, arriving in a minbus just minutes before sunrise, which occurred, we think, at around 4.40am behind a bank of cloud. To be fair, when we could finally see the sun, it was quite a lovely sunrise; Stonehenge is certainly a great place to be at this time of year, at that time of day.
The ceremony over, the drummer's arms already aching from having to drum seemingly for about twenty minutes, we got down to some serious dancing. Thanks must go to Tony, from the Side-With-No-Name, for helping me out singing all the way through John Barleycorn. His gruff baritone contrasted with my rather unique tenor beautifully. Imagine if you will, a coming together of Luciano Pavarotti and Bryn Terfel. Well it was nothing like that. The dancers, although absolutely knackered, performed as well as ever. A nice fairly genteel Grenadiers from the Side-With-No-Name (henceforth SWNN) followed the John Barleycorn, then we countered with a Brimfield. A Much Wenlock by SWNN was followed by a Manning Tree and then we all had a rest and a wander round the stones. A bit of a photo opportunity, it's not everyday you get to walk around Stonehenge these days, it's quite a privilege really.
You can see some of the photos on our website.
Having done the Stonehenge thing, we had then decided to carry on dancing at Avebury, the village inside a stone circle about thirty miles to the north, and thus on the way home. After breaking fast at the Little Chef Amesbury (the other Steve and I, true to form, had an Olympic Breakfast, only £7.49), we drove off to Avebury to find the car park locked and bolted against us. Perhaps they'd had a tip off we were coming. We drove into the village and spoke to a nice lady at the visitor centre, who told us that the car park didn't open until 10am, but if we weren't staying all day and were dancing at the visitor centre we could use the residents car park instead.
We parked up, sat about for a bit, waiting for Phil and the SWNN. A gathering of various onlookers, including a fair few Americans, a couple of nice ladies from Old Sarum Morris, and a few Europeans spurred us into action, and after a yawn and a stretch we launched into a few dances. Phil finally turned up some time after 11, SWNN didn't turn up at all, but it later transpired that they had been dancing near the stone circle and also at the Red Lion. I never got to see the Red Lion. I'd taken my tankard to no avail. I did get to sing about John Barleycorn again. It's not really the same as drinking it though is it?
We had a fairly large appreciative audience for most of the morning, and were cheered by the Circle Cafe staff, who brought us out some free tea. That picture on their website, by the way. That's not real morris dancing. It's something called Cotswold ;-)
We even persuaded quite a few members of the audience to "have a go", audience participation usually being the best way to turn a hundred strong crowd into one man and a dog. Well done to all those who took part!
Around 1230ish, we finally decided we'd had enough, and packed in. All in all, an enjoyable, if rather long, day.
So to my question, "why exactly do we do it?"
I'm buggered if I know, but hopefully, through the coming weeks, I can give a little insight into the strange world that is THE MORRIS.