James Hollingsworth
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9/22/2007 9:05:41 AM
Stop the War Coalition Benefit gig review - a muso turned journo
“When I say War, you say 'No'!”
A benefit gig for Stop the War Coalition at The Holy Cross Social Club, Dean Lane, Bedminster, Bristol on Friday 4 May 2007. bristolstopwar@hotmail.com
http://www.stopwar.org.uk/ For Bristol Rocks www.bristolrock.co.uk
7.30 - 8.00 Jaumet “Catalan Anti-military Songwriter”
http://www.myspace.com/jaumet
8.15 - 8.45 Xavier Panades & the C.A.T. (Transcendental Catalan Rhapsode)
http://www.myspace.com/xpanades
9.00 - 9.30 Alien Stash Tin (Rock/Blues) “The Druid Band from Hell kicks arse - Ectospazz”
http://www.myspace.com/alienstashtin
9.45 - 10.30 The Get Outs “Fun raucous rock'n'roll with equal parts punk and glam”
http://www.myspace.com/thegetouts
10.45 - 12.00 Flash Harry Band (Folk/country/Blues) “Foot-stomping and highly dancable”
http://www.myspace.com/flashharryband
At the door I had no idea whether or not the gig had started, so asked for the whereabouts of Xavier, who was organising the gig. The guys manning the door helpfully said he was 'in there somewhere' and once I said I was playing tonight I was waived through without paying. And, with surprising courtesy, they thanked me for coming along too.
So I passed through the double-doors and surveyed the dimly lit and smoke-shrouded scene. Xavier was already on stage with Errol, cajoling the audience with his rough, gravely voice in a language incomprehensible to 99% of them: Catalan. I noted the plentiful crowd were, however, paying attention. A good sign. And they applauded at the right times too. The dark shape of Errol stroked his guitar with dignity. I wondered how long they'd been playing for and how much of their set was left to run. I was due to play a little guitar and harmonica with them and had agreed to do a review of the evening for Bristol Rocks. Pen and paper were stuffed into my jacket pocket with a couple of harps. I was to borrow a guitar.
I quickly reasoned that if I were called to the stage at any time in the next couple of minutes I could and should still take the risk of buying a pint. The bar was bustling but not too crowded, with enough people to create a buzz and a sense of occasion without the bar-staff being incredibly run off their feet.
Xavier continued to perform, Errol playing a complicated series of harmonics, ping-ing his way around the guitar neck while Xavier made an equally staccato series of gurgling, chattering and wordless murmuring noises. It all meshed oddly together and as I ordered my pint the song came to a close, I thought to myself 'let's see how they liked that' - and, in that moment of truth: they loved it.
Guinness in hand, I moved halfway to the stage and sat at the edge of the dance-floor which seemed a suitable vantage point from which to see where the engineer was based. Or indeed to see if there was any engineer at all. Xavier could also see I was there, so he nodded to me to show he knew.
I clocked the engineer through the murk: stage-left. I shifted and had a quick word, asking if there were a spare microphone already set up. He went off to ask and I asked the adjacent table if I could sat down. “Feel free”. It turned out to be a table-full of muso's. A large bearded man in white robes was soon declaring to the table that at one time he was “the only carnivore in the band”. There was atmosphere of peaceful anticipation, flyers being used for beer-mats, a large collection of nearly black bananas loosely bound in a sagging plastic bag sitting on the table, cigarettes turned furtively inward between yellowed fingers, musicians and their retinues quietly garrulous, but attentive to the performers.
It turned out that an extra mic would be no problem.
And Xavier announced that he was “very pleased to be joined on stage by James Hollingsworth”. So up I stood, shook hands etc and dealt with the mic stand. A guitar appeared from nowhere (thanks, Jaumet). We played with the arrangements a bit. These are simple songs, so they are easy to extend beyond th
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