You can check out any time you want

Normal Wednesday night wargaming is suspended due to all the others having better things to do. I therefore repaired to the Otley Folk Club. Interestingly, given the previous post on this blog, one of the floor singers sang a song in praise of Nye Bevan. If I might be allowed a quick rhetorical question ["Permission granted" - RP], will singers at folk clubs in seventy years time be singing songs about Yvette Cooper, Theresa May or whoever the bloke is who's in charge of the other lot? I said it was a rhetorical question. Of course if Scotland becomes independent then Alex Salmond is a stone cold certainty to appear in a celebratory ballad. And Thatcher will no doubt be used to scare children for all eternity.

"This is my truth, tell me yours"

The main act last night were the Gerry McNeice Band, who not only seem to have a constantly rotating line-up between gigs, but also between songs. In any event, they were rather good. Highlight of their set for me was a most enjoyable version of 'Hotel California' with the iconic guitar figure being played on the flute. Special mention must also be made of one of the other floor singers who gave us an amusing and bawdy song about the louche behaviour of a girl from Cleckheaton, ironically lauded in the lyrics for her class and style. Now, while I may possibly have laughed along with the rest of the audience at the time, I wish to make it clear that I have the highest regard for women from the part of West Yorkshire which lies just south of the M62; the absolute highest regard.

How long must I keep my eyes glued to the door?

I went to see the Gerry McNeice band last night, but it turned out that those playing were actually Nick Hall and the Resurrection Men. Nick Hall is half of Plumhall and the Resurrection Men were basically McNeice on bass and his band's drummer. Rehearsals seemed to have been few, but nonetheless they were terrific. They did a lovely run through "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding" with Jon Palmer on guest backing vocals, but the standout was the best version of "Senor (Tales of Yankee Power)" that I have heard in a long time.


For all the song's obvious connotations of anti-imperialism I prefer to read it as a straight (albeit metaphorically described) explanation of a man's search for salvation through the love of a woman; a woman dark haired like a gypsy who having told him "this ain't a dream no more, this is the real thing",  and urged him to "forget me not" then disappears. Surely even wargamers can relate to that? Here's Willie Nelson and Calexico covering Dylan's classic.

We ought to have a different kind of justice

I have been to another gig in aid of the local food bank. This time Little Rach and the Gerry McNeice Band were the entertainment. The latter is well known in Otley, but it was the first time that I had seen the former, who had come across from Manchester to support the cause. She was excellent - albeit tiny - and you should see her if you get the chance.

And if you wondered why no US political leaders bothered to attend last Sunday's march in Paris, well Robb Johnson's song from 2001 has a suggestion.