In a rare moment of substance use, just before we did the performance of our community ukulele lives, I sank a schooner of black, my preferred brew. It relaxed me for my angry lead vocal moment (see Common People video at the bottom). Then later, safely ensconced at Auntie Jane's in the southern Canberra suburb of Stirling, I had a glass of good red, and fell soundly asleep for the rest of an early night.
The Nash was exhausting, but it was also a weekend of opportunity, which I feel started with saying YES to help someone out of a pickle. We got a phone call from a Festival Director, asking if we could put in our contribution for the Infinite Song Competition in 50 minutes. It was a mad rush. In The Nash Ukestra/Choir group chat I put in the inexplicable message 'Everyone NOW!'. I never did finish the why or what. Maybe my brain was slowly frying, maybe there was some frantic phone calls. I do remember one phone call from Jane telling me to push back and not to cancel our scheduled street gig. I told her we were doing it, and I hung up on her. Due to wonderful organising by others, and Emily's subsequent clarification of my urgent non-message, the vast majority of us gathered swiftly, to meet the fate for our few months' work.Yet still there was more opportunity to be had, as there was a programming gap. Once we'd arrived at the Marquee stage for our heat, we were asked if we could perform an additional song. Of course I said yes, relishing the chance to do one of our recently favourited songs, in addition to our Rolling Stones cover. Two songs on a main stage!!!! What an elevation from being a 'mere' bunch of ukulele and choir street performers!
I Don't Miss You
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| Bec - lyricist/cajonist/idiot |
For months we've workshopped and practised our entry for the National Folk Festival's Infinite Song Competition. This year the allocated artist was The Rolling Stones, where scheduled artists can contribute one interpretation. Generally I'm more of a Beatles guy but I did love Miss You as a 1978 teen. I suggested this song to Jane, and then to my Thursday night ukestra mob. One of them - Bec - is a parody song lyricist par excellence for significant birthdays. Her table companions on this particular night were Jo and Cathy. In the break they workshopped some ideas, with Bec coming back some days later with a brilliant and gentle feminist reworking. It pretty much reconfigured the unreconstructed masculine Puerto Rican girls dyin' ta meet you! vibe.
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| Cathy Crowley - dude... |
But this was different, and Cathy Crowley our resident "white middle-aged suburban mother of two rapper" (self-identified) came up with something that pleased us all, and revved up the song's pace beautifully. But we also had other secret ukemyth-busting weapons.
Women and their Boxes
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| Jane and Kathy on their boxes |
We won
The competition is just for fun, but a win is a win. And whilst there is kudos, there is also, more importantly, a wonderful experience and an excuse to come together to dress up, collaborate and create as a community. With this done, we had already won before we left home for the five hour drive. But to perform twice on the Budawang stage is no small fry, and plenty of our mob were freaking out just before. But I reckon every single one of our mob would now rush back on stage in a flash. It's addictive. We won our heat, we won the final, we got asked to play the finale concert. AND we got asked to play two songs at that final concert. What a buzz, what a privilege.
But for me it was also a trip of nostalgia back to 2006 when I won the same comp with my Bendigo band voicepopfoible. Video wasn't so common back then, and we have no film footage of it, just lots of stills like this. That year the selected artist was Queen - can you tell? Kate, the current organiser, remembered me from winning back then.
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| There's Kate, working the decibel meter, 19 years ago. |
Ken - Morris Dancer/Philosopher
After my National Library session on this keyboard, Jane and I visited the Pompeii exhibition at the National Museum of Australia. Midst the pumice, dead bodies and trinkets, I ran into Ken, a man behatted in the way that only a Morris Dancer can sport. I asked 'How was your Nash?'. He said great! We talked about things Morrisy and Ukulele, and of course I boasted of our win. He then said something like "I'm an ecologist and I reckon Morris dancers and Ukulele groups can be equated to a keystone species in a healthy ecosystem - it's everywhere, and sorta under-appreciated or maligned, but it's a species that you can't do without".
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| Older, fatter, still colourful. |
In the folk environment, I equate ukulele as a 'gateway drug'. I go into the session bar and marvel and quaver at the talent. I am completely intimidated. And I soon leave. But at the Festival Ukes each morning, everyone is welcome, and the songs are accessible. 'Try this, you'll like it'. And from there you can only get better. And you are welcome. The gateway is to community, but also to musicianship. Both are really sympatico.
I'll take Ken's ecological metaphor. It's far better than the pejorative quip I hard from a hardened top notch professional muso ....
....ahhh.....the ukulele....the cockroach of the music world....
We defy your viewpoint Mr UnRemembered Professional Muso, and we raise you a community and an unbridled sense of happiness, contentment and achievement.
Thank-you National Folk Festival for a wonderful experience, yet again.
