I thought if I’d taken one of my Mother’s old school poetry books and put some of them to music I would have the ambience of Ian Bartlett’s guest spot at Rafters last Friday. He had done exactly this himself with one of Oliver Goldsmith’s poems. With perfect pitch whistle and Northumbrian pipe playing we heard jigs, hornpipes and sombre accompaniment to songs about protection, rogues, gallant poaching, hanging, robbing the rich and ships, not floosies. He unveiled our true British heritage full of images of blood, graves, stinging consciences, North Hampton gangs and torture.
He then brought us into contemporary 1987 with a song of the last public hanging where 5,000 turned up and 50 children had their fathers taken away for sailing ‘too close to the wind’.
Despite the content the collection of songs and tunes was tasteful, thoughtful and really worth listening to, especially when accompanied by Jean Reid on guitar and Andrea Reid on dulcimer. For the first time I heard the beauty of the verses while listening to ‘Fathom the Bowl’ for the umpteenth time. These were traditional songs occasionally ending on a blue note. Hey down. Hey down downy. Complemented by Ian’s inimitable sense of humour with a tasteful joke about farting, then piped out with the Highland bagpipe-like Northumbrian half longs.
He encored with Bob Bickerton’s goldfields, Otago, blonde, bombshell, cross-dressing robber.
