This interview was first published in fRoots magazine No. 414. December 2017.
How time flies, eh? It’s now thirty years since great swathes of the UK music and style press became incontinent with excitement over something called ‘Madchester.’ What’s too-often overlooked is the fact that 185 miles south of England’s precipitation capital, something very different was stirring. It’s true. For a few glorious years, the centre of the musical universe was actually located somewhere on the Berkshire section of the M4 Corridor. OK, that’s really my truth, but I do have some documentary evidence on my side. The region’s network of pubs, clubs and Arts Centres, and tribal gatherings like the Bracknell Folk Festival and WOMAD in Reading proved a fertile breeding ground for a generation of post-punk musical adventurers weaned on folk and blues and intoxicated by the new-fangled World Music records that were emerging
One such was Mark Turauskis, who first caught the nation’s ear via the seminal 1988 Cooking Vinyl compilation The Cutting Edge. Latterly he’s recorded solo, as Mark T. & The Brickbats and with various musicians including Tim Hill and Charles Spicer. His latest release, From Blues To Rembetika is an understated beauty that reveals the artist’s engaging personality through some of his enduring influences.
“This album has been a long time coming,” Mark tells me over a mug of tea, the morning after a Cornish folk club gig. Ever since I made From Middle East To Mid-West for Waterfront Records in 1987, in fact! After that, Steve Hooker, who managed my stuff on Waterfront came up and said I should really make a blues album next but I didn’t, until now. I hung around with Mike Cooper an awful lot in the early 80s and he was introducing me to African music, to rembetika, and all sorts of other stuff. I needed to go ahead and get all of these things out of my system, rather than just making a straight blues album then. People are always saying that rembetika is the Greek blues so I thought why not do the two styles together? Everything was done very quickly, just recording two or maybe three takes of each song and choosing the best one. I ended up recording about twenty-five tracks and just edited them down to the ones that worked best together. In the Brickbats days I used to relish being in studios, but now playing live is the main thing for me. In 2009, I saw that Martin Carthy was on at the Lewes folk club so I turned up there and they gave me a floor spot. Martin was in his element and it was amazing - a real ‘road to Damascus' thing that eventually became the Folk Songs & Ballads CD”.
Playing live is something that Mark is now able to do more of, following many years of working in Community Music.
“There was a lot of community funding from the millennium through to the crash in 2009” he explains, “and we were able to do really big, long term music projects. Community music died a death as soon as the Olympics were announced. All the funding was just cut and pasted into that and we just didn’t exist any more. I now work two days a week, which has enabled me to live and raise a family through the leaner gigging times.”
As conversation drifts back to those Thames Valley days of the late 1980s, I ask Mark for his abiding memories and impressions of the scene.
“Those (1987 and ’88) Bracknell Folk Festivals were a real catalyst and gathering point,” he considers. “I think it’s no surprise that people like Blowzabella, Mike Messer and myself were all at the same festival, because we all had a similar musical world view. There were so many of us that came through who were waiting in the wings and wanted to be in the folk scene, but really didn’t have that mentality of trying to do a song exactly like Fred Jordan. We either didn’t have that kind of patience or maybe we were so far down the line it was just accepted as a given that these songs were there - we didn’t need to save them! So we could just go and integrate traditional songs with other stuff that we liked that was becoming available. The big thing about punk that informed all of my generation of players was the idea that if you can’t go and do this in a folk club, just go out and do it anyway. You’ve got a choice. You can either sit around and think about it and grumble that the door’s closed to you or you can just go out and make your own scene. With me it was a bit of both, really. Someone left the door slightly open and I crept in!”
An edited version of this interview was first published in fRoots No. 395 May 2016
This year of 2016 got off to a truly wondrous start with the arrival of Everything Sacred - the fruits of a collaboration between singer-songwriter James Yorkston, bassist Jon Thorne, and singer and sarangi maestro Suhail Yusuf Khan. James Yorkston kindly met me for a chat about Yorkston Thorne Khan, and this crazy old business we call folk music.
‘Jon’s played with me for a long time - since about 2009. He’s a very melodic player and a lot of my guitar playing is very thumb-heavy and very rhythmic. My two main guitar playing influences are Mississippi John Hurt and D’Gary - the Madagascan guitarist. I was primarily an electric bass player until I heard Malagasy Guitar, and that inspired me to buy my first acoustic guitar. Suhail and I first met backstage at a show after I’d done my soundcheck and I was just idly playing away. He took out his sarangi and started playing along with what I was doing and it just sounded great and really apt, straight away. I said to him, “you should just play with me on-stage, this evening - is that ok?!” After that we just kept in touch as much as we could and every time he came into the UK he’d come up and play with me’.
‘Jon and Suhail are genuine, world-class musicians, and they could play with anyone and not be out of place. I’m a different guy - I’ve come up from Punk and stuff. Jon is hugely influenced by Danny Thompson but I’ve never really explored folk-rock, although my first-ever show was with Bert Jansch who was extremely generous and lovely. In The Fence Collective you’d play your own songs, your pals’ songs, some traditional songs and and it was all just songs. Then suddenly I’m getting called a “folk musician” and for me “folk” is traditional music - it’s never meant a guy with an acoustic guitar. The reason why I called my 2009 album Folk Songs was to show that these are what folk songs are. The next songwriter album was going to be called Pop Songs, but stuff happened in my life and I kind of grew out of that idea.’
All three contribute memorable and moving new compositions, including Yorkston’s Broken Wave (a Blues For Doogie), Khan’s Sufi Song and Thorne’s haunting title track.
‘Jon brought his song in and I played nyckelharpa and Suhail sarangi, and it’s just lovely. There’s something about that take that just has a magical sound - it’s not my song, so I can say that honestly!’
The album also includes two striking cover versions in Ivor Cutler’s Little Black Buzzer and Lal Waterson’s Song For Thirza.
‘I’m from a tiny village where we had no music except for what came through the radio - mostly via John Peel, Janice Long and Andy Kershaw, so Ivor Cutler was big part of that. I heard him all my life, and now it’s the same with my kids. Lal Waterson is my favourite-ever song writer. When her Once In A Blue Moon came out I borrowed it from the record library just because I was an Anne Briggs nut and knew the song Fine Horseman was by her. I remember listening to it and I couldn’t understand why it was so damn good! Her songwriting has stayed with me ever since. Doing an Ivor Cutler song and a Lal Waterson song was just an obvious thing to do - you take the stuff you love and work with it’.
Does that pretty much sum-up the the philosophy behind Yorkston Thorne Khan, I wonder?
‘There was no thought behind this! As a touring musician you meet a lot of other touring musicians, but to have the kind of magnetism between people that you want to keep on playing with them even though one’s in Cellardyke, one’s in Delhi, and one’s in the Isle of Wight… that’s a special thing. You couldn’t plan this. I’ve seen the kind of acts where you have four names who have been put together and it’s perhaps a bit grinny and: “Hey! Look at this! We’re all really good!” Some of that stuff is good to watch but it’s like when you go to a session and it’s full of youngsters and they’re playing at a million-miles-per-hour. That’s nice to hear in the same way that watching a programme about the coast of Ireland is nice to watch, but it doesn’t really suck you in. The Irish music that I love is people like Seamus Ennis, Willie Clancy and Bess Cronin. Her singing is one of those things, like Lal Waterson, that you hear and go: “Woah! What is that?!” That’s what I prefer - the individual and the unique’.
An edited version of this interview first appeared in fRoots No. 405, March 2017
Brooklyn-based Steve Gunn is a musical renaissance man, equally adept as a solo guitarist, a singer-songwriter, an improvisational and experimental musician or leading his band through a set of killer rock songs - as heard to full effect on his latest release, Eyes On The Lines. He’s also the producer of 50, the new album by Michael Chapman which might just be the best-sounding record of the Yorkshireman’s entire half-century career.
I met up with Steve backstage in London’s 100 Club, where he and his compadres Cian Nugent (guitar) Jason Meagher (bass) and Nathan Bowles (drums) later delivered an exhilarating show that began with a solo banjo set from Bowles and concluded with Gunn on his knees, turning all the guitar pedals all the way up. The venue, with its photograph-festooned walls documenting the entire gamut of rock ’n’ roll, seemed an entirely apt environment for Gunn - a self-confessed music obsessive and record nut, who’s ready and willing to talk music. Being just six days after the U.S. Presidential election, he talked a bit about politics, too. But let’s begin at the beginning.
“I started playing music as a teenager,” Steve tells me. “My parents weren’t musicians per se, but they were very musical. My mother was really steeped in the soul and R&B scenes and she saw all the Motown artists that came through town. My dad was more of a rock ’n’ roller - he was really into Jimi Hendrix, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin and all that stuff. Music was a huge part of their life and their culture and how they related to the times that they went through.”
“it’s sometimes key for musicians that they have an older sibling to look up to, and I was lucky enough to have a sister who was into lots of the bands that were playing smaller cubs, coming both from the States and from England, and I just soaked all that up. As I got a little bit older and interested in playing, my parents were pretty supportive. By the time I was twelve or thirteen years old I got less interested in playing sports and primarily just wanted to be in a band.”
“My first instrument was the bass, then the following year I got a guitar and took lessons. Through my high school years I discovered local scenes and different bands who were very politicised and DIY - distributing their own records and setting up their own shows. After a while I got interested in bands that were more progressive as I realised a lot of the punk and hardcore groups I’d been listening to were very formulaic, and I really needed to discover things that were new and mysterious to me.”
“When I went to university, this whole world opened up to me through jazz radio programming and going to a lot of record stores. I moved into a house with some guys who were older than me and had extensive record collections. That’s when I discovered pre-war blues and some of the older British folk stuff and some extremely experimental jazz, and also when I started getting really interested in the acoustic guitar. When you’re that age and listening to everything, you connect things that aren’t necessarily on the same timeline, so I discovered the pre-war blues at the same time as John Fahey and Sandy Bull, and those two musicians really affected me in terms of how I wanted to approach the guitar. Discovering those two opened-up the guitar for me in terms of open tunings and fingerpicking and in how much they were influenced by the structures of folk music. Once you get to recognise the signposts you can correlate the ideas of meditative music with Indian Classical, with bluegrass, with Moroccan music…”
“I was in college and really trying to soak all this stuff up when I met a very important person in my life in Jack Rose. Jack, to me, represented someone who was really working hard at his craft and someone who wood-shedded for a long time before he stepped back out and reinvented himself. He was about ten years older than me - such a good guy, very friendly and also very inspiring and supportive to me. He really showed me how to work hard as a guitar player and also to demand respect for it. He was always standing up for others and standing up for himself too, and I feel musicians really need to do that.”
Jack Rose
“When he passed away we were all like: ‘holy shit, now what do we do?’ For me, and for Nathan and some others it was a point where we said: ‘Okay, we really have to do this now.’ Luckily, I got a load of solo shows around that time, and that was a really formative time for me as a performer. I was travelling to Europe, riding on trains by myself, playing to people I didn’t know in cafes and just getting by. I wasn’t really a natural singer so it took me a while to find my voice and get comfortable with it and learn to project, and all that stuff. I found that touring was the way to get better at everything, and in between I’d just work on songs and record stuff at home. Jason owns a studio called Black Dirt Studio, and that’s where I made Time Off, ” in 2013.
It was Rose, via his vinyl collection, who first introduced Steve to the work of Mike Cooper, with whom he recorded Cantos de Lisboa, also in 2013. “Jack pulled out a copy of Trout Steel and then, from that, all that Village Thing stuff by Dave Evans and Ian Anderson opened up to me too. Back then it was pre-internet so you had to come across this stuff in record stores and it was like finding gold! I became a real record fanatic and luckily I lived in a city that had great record stores with very cool owners.”
“The album came about when the RVNG label did a series of collaborative projects where they asked artists who, in their wildest dreams, would they want to make an album with, so when they asked me I said ‘Mike Cooper’. They contacted him and sent him some of my music and I told him about myself. We decided that we should make the record in Lisbon which was great because I had friends there and knew a studio, so we were able to spend a week playing together. I’d love to do more as I feel that was still only really touching the surface of what we could do.”
More regular collaborators are the Appalachian old-time, heroes of drone-folk, the Black Twig Pickers. In 2015 they combined forces for the Seasonal Hire album.
“That was really just the culmination of me and the Black Twigs getting together socially and jamming on some songs. They’re so inspiring too - there’s a really interesting work ethic with those guys. They’re serious about what they do and they’re not caught up in any bullshit. They can really play and they really connect with their audiences. Mike Gangloff is an incredible musician and an inspiring figure to all of us.”
The Black Twig Pickers & Steve Gunn. Seasonal Hire, 2015
There’s a discernible Anglo-Celtic undercurrent in much of Gunn’s work that manifests in the acoustic, DADGAD guitar parts of otherwise all-American rock songs on Time Off, Way Out Weather and Eyes On The Lines.
“I got into The Smiths as a kid and I love the playing of Richard Thompson, Nic Jones, Bert Jansch and Davy Graham. I soaked all that up because I was really interested in Fahey, but also really interested in singing, so when I discovered Bert Jansch and Davy Graham using more jazz voicings within a folk tradition I was like: ‘wow!’ Mike Cooper, Michael Chapman and Bridget St John told me all their stories about Les Cousins which seems like such an interesting time and place. Bridget lives in New York and I see her quite a bit.”
The just-released Michael Chapman album features Steve on guitar and drums and Nathan Bowles on banjo. It sounds like the fruits of an ideal symbiosis between an artist and a producer who really respect and trust in each others talents.
Steve Gunn, Michael Chapman, Nathan Bowles, Jimmy Sei Tang
“I’m so proud of that record! Michael’s such a hard worker… that shit is not easy, especially for someone of his age. He flew to New York and it was a hard couple of weeks but we realised that we had a great batch of songs that were sounding incredible and his voice is still sounding good. Michael was really generous with the songs in letting us do our own take on them. You can hear in his voice that he’s older, but that’s such a real part of the album. I think Michael picked the songs very carefully and the sequence of the record really works. I’m really happy for him - it’s exciting!”
When I ask Steve how the European band tour is going and what his forthcoming plans are, talk turns, inevitably, to ‘the event.’
“We played in Rotterdam the night of the election and we were all really anxious, but sort of jokingly anxious - not really thinking that this would actually happen. We thought it was impossible. Then this slow, shocking realisation that Trump was getting elected started settling in and we were just a mess. It’s so shocking, but it’s been building up for a while, so it was kind of crushing. The one thing I was feeling was such disappointment that people just aren’t aware of what’s happening around the world, and all the racism and sexism that’s really affecting people’s lives in a really big way. There’s such a large part of our population who just aren’t consciously aware of other people’s problems.”
“I’ve lived in a city pretty much all of my life and it’s a different existence - there are separate realities within the United States. The fact that this election slipped through the cracks is a huge deal. People are slowly realising that organising and representing, making your voice heard, being out on the streets and being close to your community are really important things.”
“After this, I’m doing a solo tour with Lee Ranaldo and Meg Baird. We’re going to pack up a mini van with acoustic guitars and hit the road around the States. Lee is extremely political as well, and I’ve spoken to Meg about this election, so we’re having a concert on inauguration day in D.C. We’re all fired up!”
Steve Gunn’s Eyes On The Lines is on Matador Records
Michael Chapman’s 50 is out now on Paradise of Bachelors
An edited version of this interview first appeared in fRoots magazine No. 406, April 2017.
“Raised on porridge and song in a family of eccentric musicians in Reading,” Kate Fletcher first came to our attention as the singer and main songwriter of Epona - a short-lived but influential English folk-rock group whose alumni include her brothers Colin and Jon - latterly of Telling The Bees and Magpie Lane, respectively, and Nancy Kerr. They released a fine album entitled Shine Again in 1997, after which Kate retreated from recording for ten years, returning with her solo CD Fruit (recorded in a caravan by Leveret’s Rob Harbron) in 2007. Ten years later (she’s nothing if not consistent) Kate’s back with Fishe or Fowle - her first album as as a duo with her husband Corwen Broch, and (astonishingly) his debut recording.
“I always wanted to be a musician” Corwen tells me over the phone from Orkney (where Kate works as a music teacher) “but I didn’t really have any musical background or way into it. When I was 21, I bought a truck and started living on the road. I met a bunch of people at Wayland’s Smithy and from them I picked up some drumming and didgeridoo - all the terrible hippie instruments! Then a couple of years later I learned tin whistle and bodhran and joined a band called Senzar Tribal Collective, which was really a rounding-up operation of everyone in Boscombe who was stoned enough to agree to come and play - but not so stoned that they couldn’t come and play! Then I joined a little Irish trad pub band called Celtic Dream - which sounds like a liqueur, and that was a hilarious bunch of people. I was still living on the road and on protest sites in my late twenties when a wealthy Druidess kindly bought me a set of Welsh bagpipes made by John Tose, and that was a turning point.” I first met Kate after being drafted in to deputise for her regular musical partner at a medieval music and storytelling show.”
“We became a couple because we had compatible reed instruments,” Corwen deadpans, but, as they soon discovered, their musical compatibility runs deep.
“We’re both real believers in maintaining traditional customs and the purpose of music as something more than just commercial, consumer entertainment,” says Kate. “It has social and ritual functions for dancing, for remembering, for bringing communities together. We’ve amassed a huge collection of CD and DVD resources to explore traditions. When we found out that Folktrax was folding (in September 2007) we bought everything we thought we’d ever need. That’s where the two samples of the old ladies on Fishe & Fowle come from - they’re Peter Kennedy recordings that now belong to Topic. We made a conscious effort to really honour and credit those source singers, because Kennedy didn’t always do that.”
Fish or Fowle is a double CD release, with eleven traditional songs and four originals on disc one, while the second disc is the first recording for 30 years of The Play o' de Lathie Odivere, an Orcadian ballad, sung in five parts. All of the songs are concerned with themes of transformation, as Corwen elaborates.
“There’s a marvellous book called Folklore In The English and Scottish Ballads (Lowry Charles Wimberly) which is full of fantastic stuff about ghosts, the afterlife, fairies, and all the cosmology that you can work out from the ballad tradition. One of the ideas is of a very permeable barrier between human persons and other-than-human persons. In the ballad tradition, people turn into animals, animals turn into people, animals speak… The album explores liminality between human and other-than-human and the desire for transformation and the fear of transformation. People resist hugely the idea that we might be animals , even though we demonstrably are! We can only be animals, plants, fungi or bacteria… Our animal nature and our kinship with the wild is really something to be embraced, and by distancing ourselves from the natural world we really impoverish ourselves.”
That Fish or Fowle is a unique-sounding record is due in no small part to the instruments used in its creation. “Corwen made the first Shetland gue in over a century!” Kate enthuses. “One of his instruments is in the Shetland museum, and he’s lectured in Scandinavia on the British bowed lyre traditions including the Shetland gue and the Welsh crwth. A lot of the instruments on the album we made ourselves, and we were very selective with the sounds that we used. We limited ourselves to producing a sound that’s very ancient, but not necessarily played in an ancient way. We’re not trying to recreate something - the minute you do that, you’ve made a museum piece and killed it. Almost every song that we sing has had changes made by us. They’re not fossilised pieces - even the oldest, most traditional songs are very personal to us in some way.”
First published in fRoots magazine No. 425, Summer 2019
Stepling. Leap
It’s not uncommon for groups to claim that they’re “inspired by English traditions,” but rare to find one that so wholeheartedly explores music, song and dance in one tidy package (and with no: “actually MOR acoustic pish,” subtext!) making them all the more vital and interesting.
Stepling are fiddle player and singer Deb Chalmers, guitarist Adrian Lever (Alma, Horses Brawl) world percussionist extraordinaire Jo May and step and clog dancer Toby Bennett. Anyone concerned that the involvement of the latter might be something akin to ventriloquism on the radio… fear not. Toby Bennett is to clogging as Kathryn Tickell is to Northumbrian piping and Andy Cutting is to diatonic button accordeoning, and the interplay between his feet and May’s hands (as on their showcase piece Sophie’s Accumulation) is breathtaking.
The tunes are a well-chosen selection, with Chalmers’ own Bewl Water Waltz and Meg’s Welcome To Kingston sitting easily alongside a lovely slow Agricultural Jig, a mutated version of Our Cat Has Kitted (retitled Wonky Cat) and James Fagan’s Hannah May’s. Chalmers proves an affecting singer on Here’s The Tender Coming and Died Of Love - the latter in an enchanting arrangement made of pizzicato fiddle and tinkly things. Jo’s Jig - comprised of two of Lever’s guitar compositions, provides another demonstration of both his and May’s considerable talents.
The music here is both undeniably English yet inventively cosmopolitan, and Stepling make it with palpable joy. They’re sensational live, so go and see ‘em and pick up a copy of this CD.
First published in fRoots magazine No. 381, March 2015
Roots of the Revival: American and British Folk Music in the 1950s
Ronald D. Cohen and Rachel Clare Donaldson. University Of Illinois Press
(ISBN 978-0-252-08012-8)
Never as widely celebrated in folk circles as the decade that followed it, the 1950s nonetheless saw a fascinating period of transformation in the burgeoning revival on both sides of the Atlantic, with an unprecedented level of exchange between the US and the UK.
The primary motivation for many American performers to decamp to Europe was the great “red scare,” which led to the House Committee on Un-American Activities “witch hunt,” of progressive sympathisers and fellow-travellers. For some, like the blacklisted Pete Seeger, it was a case of continuing to work and perform, while for others, it was merely expedient to escape the heat for a while.
Pete Seeger
Those who did come, for whatever reason, were welcomed with open, comradely arms by the Workers Music Association in England. Ramblin’ Jack Elliott had the good fortune to ramble into London at the height of the skiffle craze and was recorded by Topic Records, before sending for his friend Derroll Adams to join him. Both would inspire countless British musicians.
Alan Lomax emerges as the central figure of the intertwined revivals in this decade. Ewan MacColl’s enthusiasm for folk music was inspired by Lomax’s 1950 field recording trip to Britain and Ireland and six years later MacColl would meet, and later marry, Peggy Seeger (who graces this book’s cover) when she came to transcribe Lomax’s work. Lomax would himself become involved in a transatlantic relationship by the decade’s end, with his assistant, Shirley Collins.
The impact of the Weavers is explored in some depth, as is the (now) oft-overlooked calypso phenomenon, which inspired teen magazine headlines like: “Elvis vs. Belafonte: The Big Battle of 1957 - Rock ’n’ Roll vs. Calypso! and a slew of movies like (the dreadful, but irresistibly titled) Bop Girl Goes Calypso!
The authors successfully maintain the reader’s interest through the inclusion of first-hand anecdotes and correspondence among the chronology, including this (sadly unrealised) proposal in a letter from Alan Lomax to Johnny Cash - “I have an enormous backlog of American folksongs which I think would be of great use to you in your further work as an American folk bard… It would be a great pleasure for me to work with you on developing this material for the commercial market.”
Roots Of The Revival does run out of steam a bit towards the end, but so did the 1950s. The decade’s closing year saw the surprise introduction of a young singer called Joan Baez at the inaugural Newport Folk Festival, providing America (and soon, Britain) with it’s first whiff of whatever it was that was blowin’ in the wind.
First published in fRoots magazine No. 372, June 2014
It’s easy, in an already post-Mumford & Sons British musical landscape, to forget that once-upon-a-time, back in the 1970s, the sight of young men with accordions and mandolins entertaining the nation’s pop kids with roots-informed toe-tappers on Saturday morning TV shows really wasn’t all that unusual. Although never the most commercially successful, Ronnie Lane’s Slim Chance remain, for me, the pick of the bunch. Presaging Mike Scott’s similarly romantically and spiritually-inspired Fisherman’s Blues adventures in Ireland by more than a decade, the much-missed Lane (who died from multiple sclerosis in 1997, aged 51) eschewed the era’s trappings of rock star excess in favour of touring his now- legendary Passing Show rock ’n’ roll circus, and joyous, naturalistic communal music-making at Fishpool - the farm he shared with his wife Kate, their kids and various musicians near the village of Hyssington on the Welsh-English border.
Ronnie and Kate at Fishpool
Multi-instrumentalist Charlie Hart (whose musical history includes studying classical violin from the age of 6, playing double bass in jazz clubs, organ in the psychedelic band 117 at Middle Earth & UFO, decamping to Ghana for a year to play highlife and study marimba, and a stint with Ian Dury in Kilburn & The High Roads) spoke to me about life down on the farm.
“I went there for a weekend to do a bit of recording and stayed for two or three years! Ronnie was a very sociable man, really. Not only with his musical mates but all the local people. That’s what amazed me when I went there the first time. A lot of people from London move to the country and never really get accepted by the local people but Ronnie and Kate were just part of the local community, it was fantastic. We did the Slim Chance album up there and toured it quite a bit. When that line-up disintegrated I stayed on. I played on the Rough Mix record with Pete Townshend, See Me in 1979 and then did the 1980 Rockpalast TV show in Cologne, which is now on DVD".
"Ronnie attracted a particular type of musician, because you weren’t going to get rich on his music, but it was very interesting and fulfilling in many ways. The musicians involved at different times included Bruce Rowland, Ian Stuart, Benny Gallagher & Graham Lyle, Henry McCulloch and George and Ray Carless. Then we had Eric Clapton knocking about from time to time - it was all interesting! The band moved through the 70s from Anymore For Anymore which was acoustic, country music to playing much more R&B by the end of the decade.”
After Slim Chance, Charlie started playing bass with Geraint Watkins, Ed Deane, Diz Watson and Ron Kavana in Juice On The Loose on London’s blossoming pub rock circuit, working with the likes of Alexis Korner and Mose Allison. “When I left Fishpool in the 70s, that’s where it seemed to be happening. There were some great bands at that time, just out there, playing. It was a fantastic scene - great musicianship, great vibes and, like Ronnie, very under-appreciated. Pub rock is a bit of a crap term, really!”
Following more African travel and working extensively with Chris Jagger, Charlie was engaged as musical director for a Ronnie Lane memorial concert at the Royal Albert Hall in 2004, an event that eventually led to him and guitarist Steve Simpson reforming Slim Chance in 2010.
“We’ve been back for a few years now. We’ve got a good hardcore following and yes, probably about 70% are “old geezers,” but they’re increasingly bringing their children and even their grandchildren along and they enjoy it. It’s been brilliant to do in terms of revisiting the music a bit differently, but in the same spirit as Ronnie. The vibe’s not that different, I’d say, and Ronnie’s songs are fantastic. they’re deceptively simple and very well constructed. He didn’t just write about anything - each one’s very centred and really well composed. Some of the songs came to him in dreams, they’re deeply rooted. The spiritual element comes through because he was in touch with 'something,' and that shows in his music".
"Ronnie’s complaint about the rock ‘n’ roll industry in general was that the genuineness had disappeared. At the time he didn’t get much recognition for it, but now people are realising that what he did has stood the test of time. He broadened the idea of what rock ‘n’ roll was about at the time, and that’s what we’re still trying to do now, using acoustic instruments but playing them with the rock attitude. You don’t have to be a reconstituted folkie to play a mandolin or a fiddle"!
Slim Chance
"Slim Chance is a cottage industry really, we manage ourselves. It’s a really great line-up which includes violinist Steve Simpson, who was the other half of “the Fishpools Philharmonic” with me, and Steve Bingham on bass, who was with Ronnie in The Passing Show. We’re actually hoping to re-stage The Passing Show at some point. The idea remains absolutely captivating and people still love it. If we can find a circus operator to work with for a night or two then we’ll get in a bunch of guests and do it!”
