Strawberry Fair, Midsummer Common, Cambridge UK 2011

General
If you like open air picnics, a place to buy loud clothes, live music, dancing, (from disco records to ska), carnival atmosphere where eccentricity reigns supreme, dressing up, dressing down, (but not nude!) people watching, open air party with friends, food al fresco, hearing kids calling each other Merlin or dressing up as May Queens, dogs and punks, sprogs and spontaneous singing - you may like Strawberry Fair. For, all in all, Strawberry Fair is a Summer's Day that the English Pagans like to come out to party.

Whether a curious bystander from established society, passing by to sample the off beat entertainment, or the die hard punk/anarchist waiting for a revolution, the Pagan Life Rhythms which define English Culture are to be found on Midsummer Common for one day in June, and everyone is welcome as this space becomes the place for freedom of expression.

2011 was no exception – the weather was warm but not hot, a little blowy but not a gale – perfect for striding along the pathways which criss cross the common, to sample the market with its wares, and the stages and tents with live music. All along the way we met and watched people – being glad that this idea, which began in the 70's, has maintained a traditional 'Fayre' atmosphere and is still alive and surviving through the generations.
For more info about Strawberry Fair - http://www.festivalsforall.com/festival/strawberry-fair-2011


I must qualify what I relate here is only what I saw on 4th June 2011 – there was probably more, but I couldn't be everywhere at once!

What was going on

live music performances, circus, historical re-enactment ( medieval), St Johns ambulance and Samaritans were on site, stalls from Cambridge - local walking and history clubs, Love Music Hate Racism, RSPB, and UK Anarchists Stall

Bands
acoustic tents, daytime reggae and guitar funk, Bijoumiyo funk band as the evening started, Punk sets including Freedom Factor - daytime, ska stuff and Tarantism – festival dance band headlining the Evening. Other stuff around the site...

Goodies to buy
Lots of clothes and jewellery, junk shop, plants, silly hats, tarot, belt buckles, painted tobacco tins some music CDs (but not many), face painting, lots of beer.

Goodies to eat
Malasian, Thai, Chinese, burgers, chips, buritos, jacket potatoes, paella, noodles, coconut water and Jamaican cuisine with fruit cocktail, sweet stalls, candy-floss, ice-cream vans, cup cakes....

The moods of the crowd
Day time – picnic with the kids, meet ups with old friends,
Night time – arguing drunks on the fringes, but mainly good party atmosphere with the mildly drunk, the stoners and the straight people who like a dance.

Recommendations – bands I enjoyed were Tarantism, Freedom Faction and Bijoumiyo
A taste of real life eccentric British personalities, commercialism kept to a minimum, safe environment – child and dog friendly. Admission : Free.


Manners – festival etiquette – plenty of space to find somewhere quiet/friendly to sit, friendliness, appreciation for bands you are seeing for free, smiling - attitude to corporate people on site, including commercial businesses, police, first aid – can seem like a pain, but good in an emergency. (Although no emergency noticed, no mugging, no attacking, perhaps stealing ????, no police brutality/no rioting while I was there – would probably do you for being a menace with drunk and disorderly, but people just having a laugh were left alone).
One undercover cop spotted – pretending to be drunk and flipping his wallet about – pathetic and best avoided.

Things I'm glad we took with us
liquorice all-sorts, jacket to sit on and later to wear, small bottle of water just in case we got really thirsty, camera, prawn crackers (!) good attitude and about 40 quid between 2 people
Things I didn't need – torch, bog roll, bad attitude, bottle of malt drink/any glass bottles, map of the site (exploring was part of the fun), whistle (rave days are now truly over)

Diary of the day

We arrived in Cambridge around mid afternoon after an easy drive, parking on a side road about a mile away. We walked towards Midsummer Common buying some liquorice all-sorts from an Indian shop on the way – these turned out to be half the price charged at Strawberry Fair. Also took some mints.

The common had a fence erected all around it, and as we arrived at the gate security men were searching people for glass bottles. We drunk from our glass bottle before we went in. The security checked our bags by squeezing the outside, they were friendly but serious although they did not look for anything else. A glass ban seemed fair enough as cattle are grazed on the common.

As we walked in we heard a band straight away. They were called Freedom Faction, playing a punk set in a nice big-ish tent. http://www.myspace.com/freedomfactionuk

I was enjoying the songs while my friend went off to find a loo! A boy sold me 2 cds of the music for 6 quid – a bargain I thought for good punk. The lead vocal was a girl singer who could hold a tune and scream as well. It was a good punky start to the day.

The loo queue was ridiculously long, people were pissed off with the queue jumpers. We spent an hour or so sitting on the grass with lots of other people. It was a good time to rest – to pace ourselves for the next few hours and do some people watching.

The eccentrics were starting to stand out from the crowd. A man painted red....a clown, wonder-woman with a hula......babies in buggys with face paint and punky mums, lots of kids out with parents enjoying the day.....students drinking beer – not too much to spoil things....the girls were wearing their summer dresses – lots of lovely designs and patterns – beautiful people rubbing shoulders with the crass fans and the travellers who were passing through....a guy on stilts, people with mad wigs....

A girl came through the picnic space with a basket full of flapjacks – many flavours but no space cake this year. (She said, 'I'd get so arrested') We settled for ginger and lemon flapjack and had a day we would probably have otherwise forgotten....Along came a Love Music Hate Racism flyer – promoting a band called Kissmet who would be playing locally in two weeks. Cambridge is good for music and politics LMHR is a good cause - www.lovemusichateracism.com


Soon afterwards a plane flew over with a large sign flying behind it - A venue in Cambridge called The Junction was open that night playing a Pendulum DJ set from 10pm to 6am. Apparently this venue always does something special after Strawberry Fair every year. Meanwhile, on the picnic space, there was no music to be heard. I suppose 4pm was a bit early, and it was a good time to pace ourselves. We chilled out with some prawn crackers and flapjack, taking in the large crowds that were mingling around us. Suddenly I caught sight on the 70's boys on the path. How photogenic, I grabbed my camera and went to meet them. 'Surely you are actors?' I asked, to which the guy in the blue sparkly shirt replied, 'actually I'm a mechanic!!!!'


We decided to walk further into the fair. The size of the crowds meant we took a slow amble, enabling us to see the sights. We glimpsed the clothes stalls and the big stage. Disappointingly the speakers were turned down too low – we realized only after going some way past that some reggae stuff was happening, but we couldn’t hear properly. We carried on walking past a bar called the Kings Head with loads of people waiting to be served – I didn't dare look to see the price of beer. Instead I took a photo of the sign – it was 'V for Vendetta' wearing his mask!!! I appreciated the subtle anarchy undertones.

On past the bar was a tent with a band performing a song with awful lyrics about a smelly girl...we moved on pretty quick and found the loos at the bottom end of the site – where there were no queues. While I waited for my weak bladdered friend, I spotted a couple of lads sitting on the grass nearby. Drawn by the sight of one of them holding a tiny guitar, I approached and boldly begged him to sing me a song. He looked like a good contender and I persuaded him to play. He broke into song in strong voice, and sung the tale of a beaten woman who must decide her future – a good subject reflected in strong lyrics, with a tune that held great timing. This was pure talent and I asked him about himself. Tom was actually from Cambridge but studying in Brighton – he told me he was going to start a band – which seemed like an excellent idea to me!


We continued our walk, turning into the wind as we rounded the common towards a cordoned off area with tents where the re-enactment people had set up a camp. While some were entertaining the crowd elsewhere with pretend fighting, we stopped to watch a lady in full medieval costume, cooking on an open fire using the implements from days before Sheffield steel. Further wanderings took us past stalls run by Cambridge groups promoting things to see and do in the area.

By now we decided it was time for a coffee and spent ages faffing at a vegetarian stall with stupid sugar packets, with only a few grains in a long sliver of paper. The prices were expensive for hummus and other right-on vedgy stuff – later I saw an identical van elsewhere on site – this was a corporate company, not your 'friendly home made reasonably priced goodness on a plate mate' stuff.

Having been wound up by the 'cant get enough sugar in my coffee' experience we walked on – there was no live music to be seen – although there was a disco going on in the 'cafe' – which still had chairs and tables but the tea, coffee and cake had run out.....Nosing into a big tent next door I spotted a girl with snakes in her dress– but again no live music – people seemed to be waiting about and by now we were getting hungry. Past another stage we witnessed one of the fair workers proposing to his girlfriend. Very sweet, but when the music finally came on it was guitar funk – which is not my scene.

Next we came across a New Zealander's stall – I wanted to look at the green-stone carvings that are worn in necklaces, and they were superb but out of my price range, however, I was bought a pair of paua shell earrings! We resumed our hunt for food and having walked around the whole site settled on spicy chicken, rice and nan bread and a chicken Berito for my mate - we were both stuffed on 11 quid between us.

I put on my black trousers behind a van – with two layers now on my legs I was now warm enough for the evening that was creeping towards us. We were not prepared to go through another coffee experience with the corporate vegetarians, so we tried the Sugar Box – a van that sold cup cakes and coffee. This coffee for 1.50 each in a polystyrene mug was as good as it could get and the people were friendly. I had to admire their display of cup cakes which were arrayed in all colours : the fifties retro thing looked good. https://www.facebook.com/SugarBoxx


We picked up our coffee and sat on the grass opposite the Samaritans. I took off my sandles and changed into my skull and cross-bone socks and my silver glittery base ball boots – I was going into evening mode.

After our delicious coffee we were ready to follow the path back to the centre of the fair. On the way I was looking at the clothes stalls - really nice party clothes – fine silk dresses and cotton tops, thick colourful jackets, all sorts of jewellery. If you hate shopping for clothes and want to find stuff which is out of the ordinary you could easily spice up your wardrobe for very reasonable prices in a friendly festival atmosphere. I replaced my lost nose stud from a Jamaican stall run by a grey-bearded Jamaican guy – he was a tough cookie - it was the hardest pound I ever spent – but he smiled at me in the end....

Passing one stall we spotted a basket that said 'bargain basement' so I went to investigate. I found a nice hippy top and a long white skirt at 2 pound each. I went to chat with the stall holder as he was packing away and while I was there a merlin figure appeared with his staff and hat....it turned out that this boy worked for the stall! He was with his brother and his brother's girlfriend. This Merlin chap was named Benjamin and we had a spontaneous chat about Tarot – I was sure he would make a good reader and the hippy girls would love him!


Walking away towards the main stage we caught a great funk band, but by then we needed another coffee. It made sense to return to The Sugar Box, where they gave us a free cup cake to go with our coffee. We watched the rest of the funky band's set gorging on the sweet icing and beautiful coffee...it was a perfect combination of taste to rally our energy for the night to come. The excellent funk band ended too soon it seemed – everyone was feeling funky now – the children and babies had disappeared from sight as the party atmosphere took over! The funk band were called Bijoumiyo( http://www.tourdates.co.uk/bijoumiyo) It turns out they are from Cambridge
http://www.myspace.com/bijoumiyo and are well worth checking out!


Avoiding a handful of over the top drunk people we headed towards the 'punk' tent at the far end of the common. On the way we stopped at a small patch along the path to buy some colourful wristbands, the lady was lovely and tied them to our wrists for us. Four wristbands for a pound!!!! We carried on past a real pub, only to find an anarchists stall on the way. 'where's your Michael Jackson stuff?' I ribbed them....they were good humoured anarchists who showed us their books and CDs. We brought a punk cd for 3.50 with 26 tracks – absolute bargain – and a magazine called 'Now or Never' at just 2.50. – they said they would review our drum and bass album, so we are going to send them Nostramus' latest release 'Doomsday Dot Com'.


We reached the punky tent and I used the last half hour of daylight to take pictures of the crazy art work along the fence. Next to this was an area where there were the pagan trees of the year set out in a circle, a living calendar! After a rest and a fag – we noticed excitement growing in the crowd for the last band to come on – Tarantism!

Tarantism's style is difficult to put in a genre - strong lyrics, great tunes and lots of crowd communication – 'get in touch on facefuck' said the singer – and you bet I will! It was a very varied crowd - there was the girl who sold us the wrist bands, groovin away and smiling at us! Punks, hippies, crusties, students, drunk, stoned, trippin, straight – all dancing - all gathered for the experience, and no disappointment!!! The music included strands of Irish penny whistle, but moulded to folk, moulded to heavy bass and guitar, dancy, lyrical stories – 'what's the song about?' asked one of the May Queens dancing beside me, bedecked in daisy chains around her head, 'Its about musicians getting too stoned to make music' her mate said, – 'cool', they all replied, and jumped around some more! Well that's what I call communicating with the youth – on their terms!!!
I admit to getting excited about this band. 'That woman' who I have yet to find a name, could really sing – she has developed a punk edge to a folky style and is able to transcend the genres. She delivered in a strong vocal style reminiscent of Grace Slick but with the sentiment of Chrissy Hynde – she really couldn't give a fuck and the audience loved it!

But as I say this I remember how she played both her pennywhistles in harmony simultaneously and rocked the soul out of the place – which makes here pretty unique in my book. 'Turn It Up' is an old favourite and they did a song about how couples row about putting up a tent...'Do Some Music' is a new song – powerfully delivered and coming from a new double album the band has recently been working on. The encore ended with a full on drum and bass rave which would probably result in a lot of people on their knees the next day. Mine had already gone and I was back to dancing mainly with the arms, reminiscent of my fortieth birthday when, on finding myself dancing on the bar in Santorini, I realized that should I fall off and break an ankle or something I would be in big doo doo.

A dread-locked crustie caught my eye, for no other reason than that he had two beautiful dogs with him and his friends, and hearing my friend rustle the plastic wrapper to open his tobacco, the dogs tuned straight into the sound and thought there may be a chance of a treat. This entertained me greatly and with the last thumps of Tarantism and their call to take our litter home and be safe, it was time to leave. We only had to limp up the road, discussing what a fun time we had and it wasn't long before we were coasting off out of Cambridge, back into the black night of the English summer.

Radical Goddess Thealogy: GODDESS ERA: Time Before WAR

Radical Goddess Thealogy: GODDESS ERA: Time Before WAR

A Day out to Stotfold Church and Arbury Banks

Ashwell Day Out, Summer 2008

This story is an account, pure and simple, but it is also a sinking into history, a comment on erosion and survival. I savor this day and reflect upon it. We did what we always do, we turned our day into a mission of discovery.

On a spur of the moment decision, we headed for a place we barley knew – despite a smattering of rain. We drove past a village church with a bumpy field to its sides, and found cherry trees in blossom at Stotfold Church, a little jewel on a council estate. We clicked our cameras through the transparent windows and lounged around in the daisies, amongst our neighbours who were pushing them up.




Onward past a field of miniature ponies, Spon visited the shop. I sat waiting in the car and listened to his music on the stereo.

We stopped at Stofold Mill and I felt its ghosts and heard the mill stream’s music, dreaming away across the fields. And we saw the fair, setting up for the next week end, it’s orange barriers sat lonely in the distant field.


Passing Stotfold cemetery, we were then thwarted by the main road and had to drive towards Langford, taking the roundabout beside the huge water tower. My grandfather told me that he was born in Langford and I remembered his laughing dark brown eyes and quiet smile. We drove past the wealthy homes of rural retreat and up an unmarked track.



From there we walked an ancient way to the site of a fort, surviving now as an earth platform surrounded by a wire fence. Finding our bearings, we looked towards Ashwell church, past little white caravans at the bottom of the field. The skylarks were euphoric, Spon sampled their singing, and we met a man walking his four adorable Labradors, still puppies.



When we explored the banks of the earth work we saw bunnies everywhere. They had burrowed a great network of warrens into the ancient monument – which seemed about to collapse. I sung ‘Run Rabbit Run’ as we walked around the site fence.




In prehistory a family group had built the settlement and we pieced together the geography of the huts among the chalky ruins of their foundations. We tried to circumnavigate but were stopped by fences to old, old fields.

Before we left I found an abandoned house. I explored the overgrown garden and peeked into the neglected kitchen. I wished it was mine.

We went home to dinner; Spon forgot to turn on the oven so it was an hour late. On TV Melvin Bragg interviewed Liza Minnelli, and we listened to the first electric guitar by Les Paul on You Tube and the Andrew Sisters sung about a Bugle Boy of Company B (which I love). And the whole evening ended with Jimi Hendrix on the Lulu show…..

That night I dreamt a story which came from somewhere in that day but now I cannot reach it. And so I think the day itself must be the story because it ended with a feeling of fulfillment and happiness.

As I drifted off to sleep, I became aware that I was surrounded by Labrador puppies. The day had been fixed in time. I had seen two places where my ancestors had lived. Sitting empty, now bare ground where the round houses of the fort used to be, and the church at Stotfold, locked and vacant. Once there was once a wedding at Stotfold Church whose families had passed down generations to make me.

So these places contribute to my identity. Today we live unaware that we are the descendents from the old tribes who lived in these forgotten places and once worshipped the Earth Goddess Sennuna. I am aware of my roots, which makes me feel like the luckiest person alive.

Even though awareness of ones ancestral history does not bring material security, I have gained a sense of purpose, of confidence from this day.

Stage Performance Part 2

Stage Performance Part 2

I booked in to do Luton Head Jam on 5/11/2008. I practiced the same songs as for
Bedford and didn't have a problem with them, so I thought I would try
again. I reached the venue at half nine, thinking I had 10 minutes before going
on. However, Phil's guitar batteries had run out and he hadn't brought
it. I decided to fetch my guitar, but on the way back remembered that my pick
up was on Spon's acoustic. So I went straight to him and explained the
situation. He lent me his guitar so we did not need to fiddle about removing
the pick up and fifteen minutes later I was on my way again!

I reached the venue five minutes before my turn, but on opening the case found
no strap on the guitar. Undeterred, I got on the stage, and decided to chat
to the audience, explaining that I would be sitting down! Phil set everything
up for me and I played Dancing in the Shade without a hitch. I warned the audience
before going into Cut Me Down, I didn't take it so seriously which took
the pressure off. I told how Terry had written this song and I would try to
do it justice. I played it, and there wasn't a mistake in it - so different
from the week before! I think it may be down to the angle I hold the guitar
' sitting down for that song is definitely easier!!! The third song was
Fearless and Wild, which is an old band song. I explained to the audience that,
as with so many of our songs, Terry had half written the song and I had finished
it.

The audience really seemed to appreciate knowing a little about the songs '
I didn't think they would be listening that much, but it seems this added
to the performance. It was unplanned, but it made me feel more comfortable and
in turn warmed up the audience.

Later,I joined Acoustic Stage on My Space and booked a space at open mike night in
Cambridge. I was a little worried as my voice had all but disappeared earlier
on in the week. My boss had brought in a bunch of lilies, and although they
were beautiful flowers I suffered a pretty severe reaction as they opened up
and their pollen filled the office. My throat was painful and closing up. But
that had been Tuesday and the music was on Sunday. I rested my voice up until
Saturday, and then tried it out. It was strange; I could get the low notes and
the high ones, but mid range was out! On Saturday night I spent an hour playing
every song, talking through the lyrics in the Lou Reed way that I use when I
have a cold.

Sunday 16th November was a rainy day. I spent the day listening to Transylvanian Folk Music. I knew my throat was still not really up to scratch, but we set off anyway to the Corner House Pub in Cambridge and arrived to a very pleasant welcome.
The crew from the pub and Acoustic Stage were very friendly and told us that
they had hosted open mike night for only the last three weeks, so everyone was
new to it.

Corner House Nov16 08

It was perfect for practicing at playing live, and I had already talked with most
of the audience. I tried explaining about my throat and my allergic reaction
to pollen. Spon told me later that this had been mis-understood as apparently
'pollen' is another word for hash, so someone asked Spon if I smoked
a lot. That's the funniest thing ever!!!!

I thought I would try out a song to test the levels, but the audience was really
listening, so I had to do a proper performance. I had actually begun my set
without realizing, and did my second song first! Cupboardful of Friends is an
old busking song that people keep reminding me about. I wouldn't record
it, but its fun to do live.

I had to carry on, so I sung 'Anytime' and completely surprised myself, because
when the moment came I sung it when I had intended to do a more talky version
to save my throat! (still a bum note or two!) I finished my three songs with
Can't Happen ' explaining to the audience that Terry had written this about
Chenobyl. I had worried about the end as I leap up the guitar neck at the end
and Spon had put a chalk mark on the side of the guitar so that I could gauge
my way. That bit went fine and I was so surprised I lost concentration and lost
the chord sequence. All I could do was laugh. I am learning not to take it so
seriously! The audience seemed to enjoy my spot and as there were only a couple
of other acts I said I would go on again as it was great experience.

Droome

The guys on after me were called 'Droome' which is kind of Dutch for 'Dream'. We
really liked their stuff. The bass player was excellent and the singer had written
the songs and performed them enigmatically. They entertained us with lyrically
rich Gothic style songs. It is so good to hear songs that tell stories. They
were delivered in a very original style; the singer put his quirky personality
into the material, while the bass kept the tunes interesting. These guys had
a lot of fun and were tight. They passed on the open mike phone number for Hitchin
to me while another guy sung with a drummer on bongos, didn't catch their names,
but enjoyed their material as well.

swinging beats

When it was my turn again I scanned through my songs. I chose Diamonds Don't
Go and by some sort of miracle got to the end without a hitch. Then I played
Crossing over and realized my voice was going! I decided not to worry about
it; I was already on the ride! I was doing this second set sitting down as the
previous guitarist had, and finished up with She's Gone, deciding to really
open my throat and see how far I could get. I survived and realized not be afraid
about my throat. My singing lessons with Char are teaching me that breath control
is what makes the voice flow, not stressing the throat.

Droome gave another performance after this, and seemed even better. They used poetry from Edward Lear's Owl and the Pussycat and gave a unique performance
of their only cover, Born Free. Spon filmed it on his camera, covertly of course,
so as not to put them off. I hadn't heard the song since I last saw the
film on a British Airways flight from Bangladesh. It was somewhat of an epiphany
for me as I had been stuck in Dakkar airport for two days after becoming stranded
on the way back from India. I was too tired at the time to see the irony of
the situation.

We watched Droome do Born Free on Spon's phone afterwards, but Spon hadn't
pressed the stop button so he was unsure if it would be ok for U Tube which
is a damn shame as these guys have a strong theatrical presence.

I really enjoyed meeting all the people that night and hope to return to the Corner House again soon. I found performing easier, probably because experience is
building up and I was using my own guitar. I also made it clear from the start
that I was there to practice. Most of all I got over my shyness about playing
in front of Spon.

'Li'll ole me!

Ancestral Sunday

Ancestral Sunday
Biggleswade is one of many places that attract me in Bedfordshire.
The reason is that this place is associated with my ancestors. Those I knew
when they were alive, walked its streets with me and talked to me about the
people they remembered from their family, which has become my family history...

Apologies - all pictures have been removed due to a pirate site taking these pictures.

Emma with Nelson Street



Emma Bilcock, married name Street


Ada Constance from Biggleswade

Emma Bilcock , born in Biggleswade, the eldest daughter to Sam
Bilcock and Mary Ann (Maiden name Boness) married Levi James William Street
in the 1870s. They lived and had their first children in Clifton, just outside
the town, then moved to Langford when my grandfather, Nelson was a child, then
later to Biggleswade. The family home was in Benson Terrace on Shortmead Street,
Biggleswade. (No longer there). Sam and Mary Ann Bilcock were known well to
my grandfather and great uncle, as they were their grandparents.


Look out for their slippers

Halloween 2008 had just passed and Obama had just been voted
in. It seemed to me that this was the time to visit the grave of Sam and Mary
Ann Bilcock, my Great, Great Grandparents. My Great Uncle Bill had shown me
the grave years ago at the cemetery on Drove Road, Biggleswade. Spon agreed
to go with me, we had already visited Streatley, as this is where I believe
my surname 'Street' originates from.

The Bilcocks of Biggleswade are another strand. Their surname
may have an interesting origin being a coarse name for 'Isabella's Cock' ' which
crudely relates to a liaison between a man and a queen called Isabella. Apparently
such a queen did visit Bedfordshire to watch the jousting at Dunstable and this
area appears to be where the name Bilcock actually originates from. I believe
there were Bilcocks around Silsoe, but have no evidence that they are linked
to my ancestors at Biggleswade.

I didn't mention this to Spon, but told him about my ancestors,
buried in the grave we were about to visit.

Sam Bilcock was well known in Biggleswade, he was one of the
earliest members of the Transport and General Workers Union. There was a family
story (which may have been a joke) that he preached his politics to the folk
of Biggleswade on market day, standing on a stall in the market square.

He had many children with Mary Ann, although he does not seem
to have had any brothers and sisters himself. Great Uncle Bill told me that
Sam Bilcock's father was called Fred Wade. But when I consulted the records,
I found Elizabeth Bilcock, Sam's mother, married James Milton, and this was
after Sam was born. The records show that Mary Ann Boness, Sam's wife, was documented
as having 'Henry Wade' as her father on their marriage certificate! It is possible
that this could have been recorded incorectly, or that Sam Bilcock had decided
to tell his grandchildren that Fred Wade was his father rather than his wife's!
Uncle Bill looked puzzled when I mentioned this to him, but ironically, when
Uncle Bill died it turned out that his real name was Arthur!

My grandfather always told us that Fred Wade was Sam's father
but Sam took his mother's surname. Probably born out of wedlock, this could
have been why Sam was open to new ideas of social change and was willing to
put himself at the forefront of protest and awkward politics. In those times
the working classes were supposed to be subservient, uneducated and unquestioning
of their lot and being the child of an unmarried woman would have had some social
stigma. Sam was a brave man of principles. When the Jarrow Marchers passed through
Bedfordshire, he joined them.

I was anxious to get to Biggleswade as the sky was threatening
rain and it always rains when I go to Biggleswade. Passing through the cemetery
gates and into the area on the left hand side of the entrance, it took me seconds
to find the grave. As I leant down to photograph the headstone as the first
huge drops of rain plopped around me.


Sam and Mary Ann Bilcock's Grave

I recognize the significance of this grave and feel glad that
my Great Uncle had shown me where to find it. Great Uncle Bill did not have
children of his own, and at one time played the violin. He was an engineer and
would set up a little steam engine to amuse my sister and myself when we were
children. My grandfather, Nelson, Bill's younger brother, could fix clocks and
watches and spent a whole Sunday once when I was a child explaining to me how
a steam threshing machine worked - with diagrams!

Even though my grandfather was not religious, he passed books
on to me that were awarded to him from the Sunday school at St Andrews Church.
My grandfather attended St Andrews School, the original building was destroyed,
although I think the school itself is still in Biggleswade.

We retreated as the downpour turned heavier. At The Red Lion
Pub we met the publican and his customers. One had been looking for Sloes around
the allotments to make gin in time for Christmas. The evening staff turned up
late having overslept and the landlord gave us a coffee on the house as his
machine had broken.

We drove back to Luton on dark roads through the flat landscape
of sodden muddy fields. We passed through Langford, seeing very little in the
rain. I was perplexed because I had written a letter to my Great, Great Grandparents
and felt silly leaving it on the grave where it would go soggy. There was no
where to leave it, so I decided to blog this day and include excerpts of the
letter.

To my Great, Great, Grandparents, Sam and Mary Ann Bilcock,

I visit you here today on November 9th 2008 to respect your
memory and commune with your spirits, I pray you are at peace in your final
resting place.

The years have flown and your children have begotten children, but I am the
last of a twig on your tree. All my life I have carried the words of my grandfather,
Nelson Samuel Street, who was your grandson. He spoke of you with the greatest
respect as did his brother, Great Uncle Bill. They are dead now, but our link
is not broken.

Mary Ann, I was told your maiden name was Boness. I know nothing
else about you, only that you were a strong and loving partner. Sam, my family
was proud that you were a Union man. Your sense of fairness and politics broadened
horizons, not only for yourself, but ultimately for me ' in future times. I
want to tell you that the beliefs and wisdom that you planted in your children
have endured through the generations.

I guess it would be beyond your wildest imagination that your
future family could splinter and disperse the way it has. Now a fourth generation
away from you I can see how it happened. It was and still is normal to move
to find work. So it made sense for my grandparents to move to Luton with its
car factory. My grandparents, Nelson and Lillian Street were the last of my
family line to you who knew how to plant seeds and live from the soil. This
knowledge is lost to me.

Sam and Mary Ann, even if I do not carry the Bilcock name, you
are an important part of my history and I wish you blessings where ever you
are.

When I had finished my letter I googled Sam Bilcock ' he appears
in Kelly's Trade Directory for Biggleswade in 1898, listed in the commercial
list as a Market Gardener located on Potton Road.

There is a mention in the Bedfordshire Quarter Sessions some
time between 1825 and 1826 of another Sam Bilcock. The note was about John Medlock,
a carrier from Biggleswade, who had grown a 'very peculiar potato, brought by
me from Broadwater three years ago'.

The year of his complaint he had grown about 40 bushels. He
had not put these potatoes on the market, selling only 2 bushels to Sam Bilcock
of Biggleswade the spring before. John Medlock added, 'the produce he told me
he still had, not having sold to anybody'. Well, John Medlock buried his potatoes
in a pit in a field that he rented in Biggleswade, only to be told by his boy
that some were stolen by Jason Dilly and William Arnold. The unusual shaped
potatoes were later found at Jason Dilly's father's house.

This Sam may have been my Samuel Bilcock's great uncle. The
archive gives a view of the issues that affected rural life and business, even
providing insight into diet and how even a potato could become exclusive!

It is possible that Sam may have been named after this uncle
and records show the Bilcock family, from whom I am descended, was very much
in evidence in Biggleswade during the early 1800's. Also, the Boness surname
appears in Biggleswade during this time.

Learning About Stage Performance Part 1

Learning About Stage Performance Part 1

I performed in public only a handful of times before 2008.

When I was 18 I did about 5 gigs with Stranger Station, from
Luton, before the drummer and I split from that band. Simon Driscoll the founder
member of Stranger Station took me on as the singer, even though I had no experience,
and had me gigging after 6 weeks.

It was a crash course in how to work in a band. Our first gig
was at the Wheatsheaf pub in Dunstable and I was made to go on even though I
was throwing up with nerves in the loo! I remember when the time came to sing,
I opened my mouth and hoped the vocals would work! I was disturbed to learn
that I was not automatically in tune and had an audience while I was trying
to work it all out.!!!!

Our second gig was probably just as awful - we played the Horn
of Plenty in St Albans. I had terrible nerves, especially after my previous
horrific experience. I remember just going for it even though I was aware that
I was out of tune and the band was not really working together. It was a musical
version of a rugby scrum. These first two gigs brought home to me the concept
of audience appreciation. I realized that there is an expectation from the audience
to be entertained and a personal expectation to give ones best, a very difficult
thing to grasp and get right, coming from nowhere. Richard Eames was the drummer
and jammed with Terry and I some years later in Radlett, and Stranger Station
survives today in a different form, still gigging! I am indebted to Simon Driscoll
for starting me off and throwing me in as he did!

Although we were songwriting for many years, Terry and I only
did two gigs, near the end of our musical association, around 1992. We had a
good band being joined by Richard Squires on the drums and Andy Foulds on guitar,
Andy Jolly played the bass. The first gig was at the Hop Pole in Aylesbury and
I learned from that not to drink any alcohol before performing. The last gig
we did was at Bumbles in Luton. I felt it was time to move on after that, and
left Luton.

With no band I decided to learn the guitar and have struggled
with it ever since. I learned enough to go busking and played around Exeter
and Nottingham, building the repertoire I have today and feeling confident playing
on the street or in the subway where few people actually stopped to listen.

In 2000, I performed a few songs on the Band Stand in the park
at Belper, Derbyshire, with songwriter Dan Lowe as part of National Music Day.
I enjoyed playing outdoors, but again had nerves as I had never got used to
singing to an audience.

So when I met Spon in 2005 I had many songs and was delighted
to start a recording project, which has produced two albums a few years later.
However, gaining experience at playing live has been neglected and I realized
at this point I would have to have another try at it, if only to promote the
albums, which have taken a lot of work from both of us.

So I have headed back to the stage again in 2008 to try to learn
again how to make it all work. My first attempt was at the Head Jam night at
the Hat Factory in Luton on 16th July. I was petrified, but was reassured that
I would receive support from Nemo, the guys running the night. Also the audience
was full of people just like me, there to get up and have a go. Participants
are allowed to perform three songs.

Headstart project

I have always been aware that my guitar playing is rough to
say the least, but I suppose that is my style ' pretty much self taught.
My first song was 'Himalaya', and I thought I did ok, it's
got a great vocal line and this is really my area. I knew I stumbled on guitar
a little, but this didn't matter while the vocal was working. I think
it was a good start. The second song was 'She's Gone', its
fast and lively, and a new way of performing it actually came from that night.
It seemed to go down well and I couldn't believe it!

I galloped into my third song, 'Amarylis', and that
was the one that let me down! I hadn't had time to practice and it seemed
that every time I hit a certain chord, my little finger would not obey! It really
put me off and I shortened it, limping to the end like a wounded animal. I was
so eager to get off the stage that I forgot to unplug the guitar and was stopped
dead by Char from Nemo, who jumped in front of me and said 'Stop'
before I damaged anything. So I learned my lesson, to practice like mad '
and maybe that could have been avoided. However, I thought I would go back and
try again.

The 24th September was a cold night, I arrived at the Head Jam
dressed against the chill, straight from work. I knew Spon was engineering the
sound that night and had his camera phone on him. The crowd was more lairy that
night too, but that didn't bother me as I practice with the radio talking
in the background to get used to distractions.

I was up on the stage almost straight away; I had been standing
around trying to gauge how hot it was in the club, I got on the stage wearing
my jumper. As I went into the first song, 'Sub Plane High Way',
I knew the jumper was a mistake ' it was HOT. I was feeling uncomfortable,
but got through the song ok. I went straight into 'Lately' and during
this song I felt my right leg quiver, this had happened before ' (years
before in Belper and during gigs with Stranger Station in London), so I shifted
my weight to the other leg, but to my dismay, this leg began to shake too. I
was trying to keep it all together, absolutely boiling, watching Spon out of
the corner of my eye gliding into view with his camera.

With hardly a pause I plunged into the last song, 'The
Awakening' and belted it out to its conclusion wondering if I was going
to collapse. I was really conscious of how big those thigh muscles are as they
shivered and shook and I shifted from one foot to the other! I left the stage
as quickly as possible, everything had been note and chord perfect, but I was
extremely unhappy, my confidence had really taken a knock.

Later we discussed the causes for the shaking and Spon gave
me the following advice-

Never get on stage in a jumper (unless it's obviously freezing)

Eat a light meal about an hour or so before (I hadn't eaten for the last
8 hours)

And sit down for fifteen minutes before going on (I ran over to the venue and
dashed on to the stage).

I took his advice and practiced hard, to return to the Head
Jam for my third attempt on 8th October. I had taken a singing lesson with Char
a couple of days before and my throat felt stretched, but not sore. I didn't
know how it was going to go. Spon had advised me to talk to the audience more,
so I introduced the songs and started with 'Plans that slip' attributing
the song to Terry Bartlett who had written it. It went fine, after a false start
to get the levels right, there was no shaking and I began to relax into it.
I followed this with 'Crossing over' a very personal passionate
song! Finally I warned the audience that I rarely get to the end of 'Diamonds
Don't Go' without a mistake, and sure enough there was a bum note
(where there had never been one before!) but it was quickly remedied. I reached
the end of the set really pleased that this experience had been so much better
than the last!

I was surprised when afterwards a fella stepped from the shadows
and I was re-acquainted with Richard Squires, the drummer from the band Terry
had put together nearly 20 years before. Now living in Bedford, he was there
with his band 'The Nimble Wits' to perform that night. We had lost
touch 16 years before. I watched his band play and was really impressed with
them. Craig is the singer songwriter and Genevieve is the bass player, and plays
violin also.

Over the next couple of weeks Richard invited me to play at
the Bedford pub, The Paddington at their open mike night. I took the train on
29th October, a night after it had snowed, and arrived at the station after
9pm. I swallowed back the emotion as I stepped from the train, as a painful
memory caught up with me associated with that place. I made a silent prayer
for a departed soul and walked down to the pub.

The Nimble Wits were practicing in a back room, so I sat up
at the bar to watch the night's entertainment unfold. I was struck by
the friendliness of the people, the energy of musicians who are full of joy
and life. I began to enjoy myself, losing my nervousness, as everyone was there
to have fun.

The open mike night at Bedford's Paddington Pub is more
informal that the Hat Factory in Luton. Because it is looser, there is more
opportunity for individuals to get up and jam, should the mood take them. I
particularly enjoyed the Jo Jackson cover, 'Is she really going out with
him?' played by Ray and Craig on bass - they whipped the song into a place
I have never heard it before. It was a spontaneous, dynamic explosion and I
realized that I really missed these fantastic outbursts from competent musicians
who are clearly enjoying themselves. There was room for everyone that night,
the Jimi Hendrix boy, the band called Inspiration, people doing covers, or home
penned pieces (even covers of others home penned pieces!) ' They even
had room for me.

Craig and Ray

Mr Martinni and Matt Roberts

Craig From Nimblewits

Nimblewits at Myspace

By then I was in the spirit and wanted to give my best. It was
time to start and Craig leant me a guitar and put it through the desk. I was
introduced, and stepped up to the mike to start, just as I was hit by shyness
again! I broke into the first song and wondered at how quiet the vocals sounded.
I thought it strange, but carried on, right up on the mike. I performed 'Dancing
in the Shade' ' and thought it went ok, although I could hear the
guitar more than the vocals. I paused then went into 'Cut me down'.
A little into the song I realized that the bar chords were sliding out of place
and I was concentrating too hard on everything else to get them to sound right.
' I apologized to the audience then went on to hit a bum note, right in
the middle of the song ' it threw me so much, so I sat on it for another
bar and picked it up from there. After the song I did say to the audience that
they had probably worked out that I was not a guitarist, but a singer. So I
finished the set off with 'Fearless and Wild', which went well.

As I left the performance area, Matt Roberts, who puts these
nights on, asked me if I had written the songs. This question was really unexpected
and I didn't know how to answer in brief! I think I gave a really vague
reply! It would have been really long winded to explain that I had written the
first one, Terry the second one and we had co-written the third one as he had
started it and I had finished it! Spon later said I needed to be prepared for
questions such as this!!!!!

I was personally very disappointed with the performance, although
it was just the middle song, it spoilt the whole thing for me. I was really
upset because Richard had not heard 'Cut me Down' for so many years
' and I had spoilt it.

It also turned out that the mike was turned down so the vocals
really had been quiet, and the guitar was up, so it had been the worse possible
combination for me as usually the vocals take the audience's attention
off of my horrific guitar playing. When I was told about the sound balance I
realized that I must have sounded pretty terrible.

I reflected upon what I could learn from all this.

Firstly, for 'Cut me Down', I had not learned the
bar chords properly ' I had missed the problem on my acoustic. So now
I had a challenge to get this song into shape.

Secondly, I realized that Nemo, who run the Head Jam in Luton, are actually
the 'Guardians of the Sound Check'. They will not hesitate to turn
a knob up or down on an amp, or summon a sound technician if the levels are
wrong. At the Paddington it is the law of the jungle! I don't know what
the levels are or how the desk works. I realized that when I go there again
I will have to ask the audience for feedback on the levels and hope that someone
will adjust the desk for me! I really think the best way round it is to ask
' it wouldn't have saved me from making the bum note, but I may
have got off lighter with the crappy bar chords!

Nemo at Myspace

So I felt that the bum guitar chords made my set a disaster,
and not asking for a sound check was a mistake ' This was my worst try
yet, but oh boy, did I learn a lot!

Putting the disappointment aside, I really enjoyed the hospitality
of my new found friends. Everyone who played there or was around the bar seemed
like great people and it gladdens my heart to see a thriving community of musicians.
I feel I can return to the Paddington and practice at playing to an audience
again. I have a taste for it now, even when I feel humiliated at my weaknesses,
I want to go back. I think it is because I love singing, that's the bottom
line and I will plod away on the guitar to keep my love alive, and I am learning
all the time.

ELLA JO October 2008

Taking A Break

Taking
a Break 2008



Me on the Moors

The summer had been really wet but finally we chose to go to
Devon and explore the mighty moors. Our little band was made of myself, Spon
and Hughie. We decided to try the 'Camping Barn' experience, due to the magnitude
of moisture underfoot.

Our first night was spent in Oxfordshire, near Wantage. The
barn had an airy dining hall, with exposed beams and little cosy niches. We
were surprised the next morning when we were expected to leave by 10am and they
were waiting for us to go! We hoped we would meet nicer people in the days ahead.

We climbed White Horse Hill and theorized about the ancient
monument. Picturing a world from long ago, I thought that the outline figure
would look amazing up on the hill from below in the moonlight. I felt that the
landscape at the hills foot would have been perfect for racing horses, which
would have represented a king's wealth and power in those days. But then again,
is the figure on the hill really a horse? Close up it could be a dragon! We
know that Celtic art included many mythological figures….

From there it was a long ride down to Dartmoor, but we reached
Postbridge and found the farm. This place had friendly sheep dogs and feisty
sheep!

A couple of miles away we found a stone circle which seemed
untouched and serene in the morning dew. This day we explored Dartmoor's ancient
history and decided to go to Merrivale. We got soaked, but the walk was very
rewarding.

Merrivale Stone Row

Firstly we found the long stone rows, which seemed connected
to long forgotten rituals. We passed other stone circles, jumped a swollen stream,
as the ford was impassable, then climbed up to Kings Tor, a pile of huge boulders.
We sheltered from the rain under the rocks, and then went for a walk over the
moor, following a poorly written, outdated guide book.

The boys on the rock

We reached a bridge, a remnant of a long gone railway line,
and realized we were lost. The water distorts the landscape, making paths into
streams. We realized later that this is how we lost our way, but also that the
book would have taken us so far out it would have taken hours to get back.

An aerial mast on the hill enabled us to orientate ourselves.
This involved walking across a field, although fields are not what they appear
to be on Dartmoor. Foliage fools you into thinking there is solid ground and
our boots sank through mud and surface water. Verily it was a bog.

Back at the car we noticed that a mist had descended and inhibited
any view of the mast, the key to our safe return. I think they should put up
sign posts!

We stopped at Okehampton for fish and chips, then carried on
into the night, over the winding roads to Exmoor. Finding the camping barn was
a challenge but worth the effort. It became our base to visit Exmoor.

Spon and Chicken

We were curious to visit the Tarr Stepps. This turned out to
be a bridge that had been constructed in prehistory and survives today. It was
an impressive structure, sitting low over the water, but cleverly built to handle
the flow of the river. It gave a clue to the ingenuity of past peoples, evidence
of the world as it once was.

Tarr Steps Exmoor

A man asked if one of us could take a photo – we volunteered
Hughie who then shot of a group waving their hands in the air along the prehistoric
bridge.

On our last day we drove to the coast to explore the coastal
paths around Lynmouth. I struggled to deal with the height, but kept up with
my friends. The wild goats there seemed not to notice the danger at all!

Spon and Hughie summoning Neptune

We learned that water shapes this landscape, not only on the
moors, but in the towns. Dulverton and Lynmouth had experienced drastic flooding
in recent history and memories survive today of the suffering this caused. Even
the Tarr steps had been washed away during a flood and had to be rebuilt afterwards.

We returned home after exploring this beautiful countryside,
wiser for our journey. I promised myself that I would put Lorna Doon on my Christmas
reading list.

Spon and Hughie rap on torr

EJ 2008