Bands and Artists Intro Poems by Adrian Spendlow
The Hank Wangford Band.
[Jaws Harp – Home Home On The Range]
What!
Well I’m not using words to introduce this band
I’m terrified I might get it wrong
Oh go on
I’ll give it a go
With the poetic intro
I am a professional at this you know
Precise enunciation
I never let a syllable slip
Never get a word wrong
Isn’t that right Hang!?
Oh
I’ll just have to go for it
Ladies and gentlemen
The
Ha Hahaha no
I’m not ready yet
The Hankan’t do it
I’m terrified of it
Here we go
The Hank Want a job as an MC
Cos I’m out of here
No
Last go
Nice and clear
The Hank WangF F F F flippin heck I did it
The
Ohhhh
I’m a bit of a prude
Frightened you’ll think I’m rude
If I get it wrong
You might not understand
Oh arseholes - just go for it
The Hank Wangford Band.
Imbizo.
And it’s rain and it’s rain and it’s rain
And we dance and we dance and we dance
We prepare
Where all life Where all life Where all life
Originates. In our roots
We are Africa
From the deep From the deep From the deep
Swing the groove Swing the groove Swing the groove
In harmony
Be the strongest Be the strongest Be the strongest
In yer gumboots In yer gumboots
Energy
Africa Africa Africa
We will jump We will jump We will jump
You will know
So enjoy So enjoy So enjoy
The show
Imbizo.
Jim
Eldon.
Wriggling Like A Fish
I am proud to say
I’m a Bolitaneer
Are there any other
Bright and Breezly boys here
Who have lived in this sunny
Yorkshire Spa Town
Since they were a Tiddler
Yes of course
There’s the Brid fiddler
Jim Lad
And aren’t we glad.
He’s the chap who keeps his
Blues Banjo close to his chest
Renowned for his playing
Whilst aboard a fishing skip
And we are impressed
With his knack of dodging the real graft
Fiddling through the trip
But heck - He knows his craft
Anybody who covers songs by the Boss
Can’t by half daft
But how about all that about
Reeling back the loo roll - tum ti tum
I think of him every time.......
Well never mind
That’s enough
I can see you are wriggling like a fish
Don’t bother clapping this poem
Or saying well done
Ere we’ve netted your wish
It’s - Jim Eldon.
JOHN
KIRKPATRICK.
Makes them squeeze box buttons
happen by force of habit
Turning simple folk songs into classics
We’re going to feel we’re 17 this Thursday
It must be Bedlam in Shropshire
Now we’re Princess Royals right here
This is hot enough to
weld the bits of a Brass Monkey
Rocking yer house,
turning yer balloons quite blue
Even doggies with bogies
would know what to do
Herewith was built a church by St Patrick
Don’t know what you do in the day,
but tonight you’ll be dandy
Wave yer hankies, get yer Morris On - it’s
JOHN KIRKPATRICK.
Adrian
introduced LoBeams at the 'Here magazine' launch.
LoBeams.
Come to me
I’m music
Stroke me
I purr
There’s space here
To draw near
Be lost within
From the drama
of Blackheart Man
You’ll be infused
To Automatic Blues
Beautiful
Beautiful
People
So talented
Listen
We’re implicated
Attracted
Falling within
Captured in
Sublime dreams
Here’s
LoBeams.
Los
Incas.
Well it’s simple!
Isn’t it!
You don’t,
Even have to listen
It just happens
In you
Heart n soul
And it’s happy
Your Ira and Arka
Ying and Yang of Pan
It’s like the stones speaking
With the wise Armadillo
Oh sweet sweet sweet
Piercing sweet by the river
Your own first music
Echoing for ever
Siku, antara, charango, altiplano
Let the true self go
To our fullest Diapason (Range)
No reason
No need
Even to listen
Let it happen
Though the timeless magnificence
Of our presence and past
Los Incas.
Mark
Gaultier.
This next act
Has played here before
For a world premier
But as well as the world
Coming here
He has been everywhere
Yachts - Castles
Tango cafes
Stately homes
Royalty
What is amazing to me
He would just busk
And be asked
How could this be?
Well,
Someone gave him a guitar
He was an engineer
Thought he would
give it a tweak
He was playing in a week
Has never looked back
Says it was luck
Can you imagine!
He’s a natural
Picture a heart which is full
Picture this also
As we move through
Venezuelan Waltz
Braziliaro Samba
Here in the depths
of South America
To
The tango
Mark asked
If we had any dancers
We will have to imagine
The posh dance
In the tango café
And the whorehouse
Imagine this
Proud
And rugged
Striped-sweatered
strong male presence
The sleazy yet upright
Split-skirted prostitute
And so they dance
Circling
Waning
Strutting
Nearing
And so
They fight
Feel such passion tonight
Dancing into your heart
With ‘his’ passion
and natural beauty
We are there
With
Mark Gaultier.
Mark
Barns.
Talk About Yarns
(Mark Barns)
Looking per verse
You see lines
That would crack a flag
Concrete in their formation
The whole of Craven
Couldn’t beat this crack
Hanky waving for the nation
Goodbye to a mummer
Extraudinaire
It’s good to have him back
Teaching, a trick or two
As a storyteller
Talk about yarns
This is yer feller
Mark Barns.
Martin
Simpson.
A sage and a seer who steers
through a myriad of styles
Has instruments he articulates into
being the song
Song has its grasp on him
flowing through using
Every aspect of this incredible being
Every pause and nuance
Every sonorous tone,
resonating phrase,
Shimmering sound shape,
each distinctiveness
All timbred aspects
Every rise and fall
All aspects refreshing
From deep melancholy through joy
Song - Has this gifted visionary
There will be moments
Continuous moments in sequence
When he is not even there
You are
Knowing
This is all here for you
Feeling
The moment
The truth
Hearing
Self in the endless that
always rings true
This is the essence of song
Gifted to you - through
The sheer experience who is
Martin Simpson.
Maseko
And the Congo Beats.
From the roots of Lekembe
And the language Lingalla
From the music of Africa
And a fundamental rumba
Cross the
Congolese traditional music
With an influence that’s Cuban
It’s the Soukous
And now choose
Excellent interplay
Sophisticated rhythms
Sweet Sweet
Acrobatic singing
And the ever active
Animateer
Keep the
Spiritual
Ancestral
Celebrations
Trance
And the hot steamy dance
But
You’ll not get away with
Sitting ensconced
We’re gonna warm up with some
Call and response
Here we go
Africa Africa Africa
Let me hear you
Maseko Maseko Maseko
No we can’t rob robert
Of your chants and hoots
And the Chaka Chaka Zouks
Chaka Chaka Zouk
Now give a welcome
With your heart and your feet
Maseko Kiz Amina
And the Congo Beats
I
introduced an act from Under Milkwood for the Stage Coach Theatre at their
fundraising event at the Theatre Royal, York with this specially commissioned
poem.
Under Milkwood.
Ey - WeAll - Sithee
(Y th’ words o t’maister)
Ar reckon
Ti start off
At th’ start off
But this lottle
Niver finish
Nay dark time
Yar lang spring day
N sithee oo thes
Gan on up theer
Nobbut yan bumless seat
IvRy yan o’ them theer
Heelan’ Festivall goers
Wo fair tumlin ower th’ sells
Forra plAas onna pew
Norra crack tween cheAks
N stannin ovAashons anal
Edinburroh!
Ooos bowt that
Forra birra
YorkShire
Stage CoAch
N thas voices tiv ear nall
Voices! - Hark,
'Tell all actors - I give my life in your service'
Skell yer lugs noo
Nuther voice speAks,
'Ar am A Louisiana Lady'
Hear me gift these Steel Magnolias”
Cors thers ‘Voice’ afor,
'I am the Voice as the Voice before
As the Voice before as the Voice
And all Voices echoing back
To the Voice that allowed'
Divolvin - Dirivin - Observin
John Cooper
Francis Cleather
Et all
Et all
Ah
Back Theer
Thes Thomas
Noo then!
Trumpet Cantrell,
'For you my muse
I would lie under Clitheroe stones'
Ey - Wiskin willy nilly
Throwt mi pshychi
SweAt Felicity - Goodness!,
'I am diversity - But now Lancastrian!'
NogudBo
WeAl cast!
“Relishing roles – Galloping Gods – Smile”
As wishin ar wus as riverenshall
Y this role
As
Captain Fackrell
“See this dim eye – Rocking – Hearing – Being”
Ta n tarra
Tarra Oberon.
Eeyup – Heildred
“He loves me – He loves me not”
Tha wunders – WeAl – Daint.
Thist – Th Poystman
“Sleeping in for Death
A life of raw fish reeled before me”
H’ - Tossed the role off!
Noo then
Thes a lille gurl growin
Y th’ wing – Hey up
Adrenilin Annie
“Think of the intricacies”
Eee n thal niver av sich lovin agaAn as
Themostry Taylor,
“This cherry in my chocolate cake”
Thes non as love it sike sa much as,
“Thank you Claregub – for the hope”
No ope less us as derecta evso special
N a wIeld collaberata as ‘wishes’ music –
Waite….
Ey – noothen – sithee
WeAl A weeish ar wor theer
Edin-arty-burro
Thes mony on yon Heeland folk
As weeish theh wer ear
Nubbut matter
We are
Appen
It’s strAngge
But noest it noo
Thars onlee thoo’ll know it
Laiyd alive afor ya
LARDIDAR LADYFOLK N
ARLL YOO FAIR GENELMEN
Over neAth tMilkwood.
New
Jazz Quintet.
Who! Stop!
How can you dance
When your heart is beating so
Hang! Wait!
There’s something pulsating
Inside of me
Something impulsive is
Axing me spinal
There’s a danger
This music
Is terminal
Just as you think
You’ve got it together
Just as you think
Life’s steady forever
Something exceptional
Heady, conceptual
Unlooses the tether
Forget everything
Everything but the moment
Relent – Pulse – Forget
Live it
New Jazz Quintet.
Ola.
Full of life and youthfulness
Yes this
Is the act of tomorrow
Simplicity Beauty Energy
National enthusiasm
Near orgasms of journalistic prose
World tours
Ola
Oh those
Nah they’re just ours
Local
Lovely and ‘beauty’
Admittedly, but
Well they’re just ours see
So they’re good
Well they play here
So they’re bound to be
But not hype
No national stardom
Us beckoning to them
From down in the dark
“Remember when the Black Swan
Was your only ballpark?!”
Nah
Nothing so grand
Hang on
All of you acts tonight hear
THIS IS AN ACT THAT WAS BOOKED BY
……ROLAND
The potency of a moment of playing for this man
Is omni
Lets see
In the east corner
Are acts considered the best
Ladies and gentlemen
The animals are in the west
(That’s the CD)
Opposition
Will be screaming
Blue murder
Down at broadcasting house
Radio 2
We are there just before
Young Folk Awards finalists
And we are here
“We were there”
So come on
All ye bold fishermen
Squirm back to your corner
Time in the ring over
Scream……
(Young Folk Award finalists)
Ola Ola Ola Ola.
Written
to introduce The Lady Mayoress at The Otley Black Sheep Folk Festival 1997
“Were you at Otley?”
“Yes you were at Otley”
“So see you next year
When we go to Otley”
That’s just the sort of thing
The Lady Mayoress
Likes to hear
And so far to date
All you can hear
Is, “Otley’s great!”
And our very own
Civic representative is
Actually here
We are used to regalia
We get the Morris in here
Tiptoeing through concerts
Their bells make a real racket
Despite their pains
But now we are honoured
To hear a few fine words from
A dignitary in chains
Next year’s a definite
We’ve got the date
But lets just remind her
“Otley’s great!”
Paul
Scott Masse.
Thank you - Thank you - Thank you’s
Thank you to Don’t Think
Not just for Paul being in the band
But for ‘one of them’ being his Dad
And bringing him into the world
Exactly
18 years ago
Today
Happy Birthday
Thanks to Sam
(Sam Stockdale)
For singing with him
Thanks to the girlfriend
Who inspired a song
That won a competition
And had him proclaimed
As a star, so to speak,
She dumped him the next week!
He says he’s thankful……
For never having
Things thrown at him
We’re throwing them now!
Praise – Acclaim - Offers of fame
(Are EMI still here?)
To recap
He’s happy - He’s brilliant - He’s 18
(and looking for a lassie)
Welcome
Paul Scott Masse.
Robb
Johnson.
Always been moved
By the magic of Robb
He’s tragic of course
And he changes you
“Sing us a happy song!”
Two years
Since I last introduced him
(I was on a bad downer then)
Things got better after
I’m ready again
But today as I wrote this
My day was all bad news
I’m back on a downer
What’s going on?
Is it Robb!?
But it’s a good job,
What he says
It’s with style,
That he plays
Always inspiring
Inspiring what?
Change
Changing the world’s ways
It’s my Hearts Desire
That
Tomorrow will Be Better
In
The End of The Day
Show
Pity And Mercy
We Rise Up
We’ll be dancing on a Thursday
As I said
I go way back
You can tell by this intro
But tell me anyhow
Can we still chant
“Get those Tories out now”?
(Sorry if this wasn’t what you wanted)
This champion whistler
Champions the poor
In a champion way
Robb Johnson
What do you say….
Roger
Sutcliffe.
Well I bin to Hamburg
I bin to Tennessee
I travelled all this world but
This man’s bin there before me
I stood under the Rubber Eagle (KFC)
On a stormy Monday
I stood by a German poster
Comparing this man to
J Hammond Jnr
Highway 61
St James’ infirmary
Paris, Georgia
The Aucklands - Falklands
The US of A
All over this globe
I missed this man
He’d just played and moved away
A world full of strangers to me
Living with his blues
I give up I’ll never see him
What’s the use!
This is a genius I never will see
What’s that?
He’s here in Otley
Oh I wish!
If only I could see
The real experience
That is
Roger Sutcliffe.
SAAZ.
Help
I’m going backwards
Into something timeless
Something ancient
Something sentient
Life times
And lifetimes
Are dedicated
Authenticated
Take us back
And forward
Into and out of
Away from here
Out of body experience
Transcendental
And spiritual
We are one
Feel joy, pride
Be creative
Be accepting
Let this be the focus
The equilibrium
The epicentre
Feel equanimity
Be
“Shant Rasa”
This is the
Tabla, santoor
And sitar arrival
These avatars
Of something
So much greater
They will captivate
Instigate
Weave ways
Amaze
Be honoured
Be truly free
In the company
of
SAAZ.
Sam
Smith.
God!
Gives us gifts
Talents
To share
This next act
Must go far
Something this special
Is rare
This is for you
It doesn’t matter
Who or what status
This will join us
Fly us away, through
Heaven’s window
Whether you’re lazy
Or pressured
Or crazy
Love life
Laugh
Love love
Live
Here
Sam Smith.
Sansaar.
Help me
Help me
I’m looking for something
Something punky
Rootsy
High energy
Spirited
Enthusiastic
Lively
Help me
Help me
Can’t you see
Let me lay my cards
In the Tabla
I want Bhangra
Gimme Gimme
On the double Dhol
Harvest my soul
Dance me down to Punjab
What do we want?
(I’ll give it a stab)
Foolin n frenzy
Dancing that’s addictive
Nothing simpler
I want something
Beauty
Fundamentally gutsy
Help me
Help me
Hang on
Here’s the answer
I know what we want
We want
Sansaar!
Sara
Grey.
I lived lonely
I’ve walked wild mountains
Heard many sad tales
Been with
My Mother/My Daughter
Been home
And to Babylon
Found myself
Within
My swaying spine
Sworn to roam no more
And left lovers on the strength
Of something beautiful as this.
Schalom
Bakhshayesh.
Was there ever such humour or movement
Emotion or memories
As Klezmer
The dancer
The storyteller
The actor
The recollector
The ageless
The sageful
The celebrator
Klezmer
Dance with her
Be with her here
As she dances the bride
To the arms of the groom
In the circle of the room
Of the happy
The loved ones: The family
The melancholy
Who circle tearfully
The couple
Who mingle
Then lingering
Head away to be free
Come with me
To the hauntingly
Captivating Niggunim
To entrancing Yiddish theatre
With the rhythm
Of the Mediterranean
Are we ready for a phenomenon?
Yes
Schalom Bakhshayesh.
Sid
Kipper.
Gobbling
We’ve gobbled up acts a plenty
Some of their roots are a bit quirky
If it’s genuine folk you are after
This next act - a real Turkey
Norfolk - N good
It’s in the blood
OOO eye
And gerra look at that tie
I’m not sure I’d back a horse
this guy picked
But I’m still laughing from last year
About the parsnip
this chap has a definitive past
Family tradition and everything
There is nothing like music - from Norfolk
And you’ll believe it when you hear him sing
But he’s got a grasp of what you know
And one hell of a handle on humour
What a story, morning glory
From a total cultural Oasis
Eye an thow northern folk
Don’t even know where the place is
If you never seen his parts
And you fancy being a day tripper
Step into the genuine world
Of a total artist
Sid Kipper.
Sistermadly.
This is an important announcement
A huge explosion
With wide reaching effects
Will go off at precisely
8.30pm
23rd June………
1991
When Em met Bee
The effect has been spreading
Nationwide
Startlingly
In harmony
“Dat was oor resident poet
Now shut the f up
For an excellent act”
Ah! Take me back
To the Acorn
That started it all
Now
There are voices
And choirs and bands
All over this land
That grew from,
Inspired by,
In reverence of
This uncurled hand
We fall to our knees
In admiration of
EM and Bee
Sistermadly.
Siyaya.
Have we got Africa in our hearts!
Let it be Zwelethu (Our Land)
Feel
Elokitshini
Her discomfort – Fears
Africa’s children;
You have no more tears
We share on love
We all hear Umhlolo:-
The cry
We are on the move!
We tell something true
Why don’t we look
See what we can do
With a raw collective energy
Let there be a lokitshi:-
Township
Of the global spirit
Celebrate
Celebrate life
Yebo! Yes! Yebo!
Feel the umculo – in Ndebele:-
The music
The greatest African instrument,
The human voice
Rabi – Tsabotsaba – PanTsula
The dance
Share your heart
With the heart
Of Makokoba
Be
Here in Bulawayo
A touch of the Shakespeare
Of the Savannah
Collaborate
Exchange
Amajikela
Where words fail me
Their
Music/Dance/Theatre
Takes over
We’re on the move
With
Siyaya.
Stanley
Accrington.
The Rochdale Station Master
With a degree in Archaeology
And a plastic bag
Three kids (Only two of them are twins)
And a taste for very bright jumpers
……………..
I rang Les and asked him for info
The Les I rang was the one
That Stan described once
As that famous French Poodle
Les Barker
“I’ve rang you Les
To ask about Stanley Accrington
Do you work with him?”
“No” he said,
“Not since – Oh
Last night
And you’ll have to shout
When you tell them about
His very bright jumper”
“Why’s that?”
“So they can hear you
Over his loud pullover”
“But he gigs a lot right?”
“not any more
He’s too busy parading
With his
Manchester Olympic Bid Banner”
“What about songs?” I said
“He’s extremely funny
Can be quite moving
Sometimes serious and
He’s the King of the Parody”
Les mentioned the Masons,,,,
So as an aside
I thought Stan would like
To hear
About my mate Willow
But back to the intro
“How Les,” I said,
“Would you
describe his style?”
“Chaotic”
“Chaotic?”
“Yeh, that’s like eclectic
But more so
And you must buy
One of his
wobbly head Stanleys
Before they’re all gone
Or the heads all fall off”
Right
I’d better get off
No hang on
Les said
If I was writing a poem
To get Stanley on
I would have to have a go at
Anagram !
Anagrams of
Stanley Accrington !
Not stale ccin – a grin
Snortleing naty crac
Rong nit – lac StanC ey
Cant write – Sanley gec on
L! – C Y cis tint Anagron
A! I (Rancy) [RNcC] –
Gt Stanley on
Stanley Accrington.
Sweetgrass.
Wiping tears from our eyes
Rhythm
Global harmony
Flow – Sweet
Waters wield their power flow
Earthly spirit
Travel
Where-ever, ever
Now we know
Entrancing elements
Unsurpassed:
Sweetgrass.
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