A few posts ago The Hat
was musing out loud about the notion of becoming the very first Blues Pope and
having A Billion followers - only to abandon the idea pretty quickly as a
possible career move when he realised that he would not be able to deal
with the millions of shouty dissenters every time he said Anything. My
attention was riveted this week, therefore, when I read that some
bloke in a white cassock and skull cap was arrested by the Italian
police in St Mark's Square under the bizarre law of 'Usurpation of
Identity'. If that means what The Hat thinks it means, surely, it
would put pay, at one mighty stroke, to the world wide virus of
'Tribute' bands. I mean if you can get nicked for looking like the
Pope, what fate is in store for all those usurpating Freddie Ms, Jimmi Hs and
Dave Gs? I shall come back to this identity problem later....
You will all be aware
that The Hat quite enjoys mulling over the past just to see where it
has taken us. Indeed, it is not unusual for him to fire up the
Quattro, put on the flowered shirt and big lapels and cruise down a
nearby alley to remind himself and the rest of you of those powerful
influences that made and shaped our music before we learned the
chords to 'Freight Train', 'Hey Joe' and 'Peter Gunn'. However, this is
not the place for us to be looking back. Quite the contrary. Heads up and look forward. Everyone who loves the blues
knows of its great history and we are all learning all the time.
Indeed a great joy is that you are constantly discovering artists and
bands and music as you trade information with your friends, trawl the
internet and watch old videos and DVDs. What is exciting is the way
concerts - and in particular, festivals - can suddenly open a Magical
Door for you to a place that has always been there ..but... you
didn't know it existed till then... let alone walked through it..
One of the great
attractions of any good blues festival, and in particular, the Hebden
Bridge Blues Festival is that if you did turn up in your retro
hat, your cowboy hat, your snap brim, your fedora or even with flowers in your hair, it is more than likely
that you will find a comfortable home near any one of the stages.
That door that Hebden opened led to a dozen different rooms, all overflowing with amazing stuff. Last
year, raw honed-down acoustic blues was there; Babajack beat drums
and blues cigar-boxes; Son House guitar poet Tom Attah was rubbing
shoulders with Dave Arcari and his in-your-face Delta punk; next door
the Red Dirt Skinners whipped up americana and blue country
rockabilly; Rabbit Foot stomped and swamped; Lucy Zirins sang
acoustic blues songs that broke our hearts and then mended them and
just down the road Russ Tippins and Ben Poole both channelled pure
soaring electric genius that made the usually Timid and Shy punch the
air and embrace their neighbours. And that was just the tip of a
giant iceberg.
Even though the
festival is only three years old this year, such is the range of
blues available, it has become a meeting place and melting pot for
fans from all corners of the blues spectrum. Yes, you could certainly
take your mother - and yes, rebellious youth would fit in nicely....and as for you my friends....? Well, you
can be intense, knowledgable, passingly-interested,
boringly-opinionated, star-struck, world-weary, genuinely excited and
excitable...and yet you will still meet someone you like who
will share your view; hear some music you've never heard
before and probably spend the small hours debating the number of
guitars you can get on the head of a pin. The term Hebden 'family'
has long been used for this motley crew. In the Hat's view, one of
the reasons that give Hebden what I might call an Edge of Difference and make it
pretty special is that because of its comparatively small size, the
family embraces the musicians as well as the audiences. They become
accessible and there is a level of exchange and rapport achieved that
is not often seen at bigger gigs. It is not unusual to see artists in
the audience with their own fans cheering on other artists with the
same level of enthusiasm that infuses every venue.....and especially
that daft hysterical Stramash that is Paddy's Midnight Jam.
Last year, the festival
also became a Giant Reunion for many of those who came to the first
one. This year, from what The Hat hears, it will be no different. If
the Hebfest was an American High School it would have one of those
Alumni Books filled with rows of embarrassing photographs of
attendees, but it would also include those musicians who
joined The Family and now like to have it on their CV. Time and again
musicians who have played the festival tell us how much they enjoyed
themselves, not just because it was a successful gig but because they
liked being part of what is an organic and warm event. If we had that Alumni Book, one day we will look back, point to a fading picture with a
trembling bony finger and say to our grand-children “I knew her,
she's really famous now”.
But hang on minute!
Was it really her, I ask? Are you sure? Let me Tell You A Story. Years ago, together with
a proper grown-up musician, The Hat used to play for his lunch in a
restaurant in Chelsea's King's Road (amazingly, it's still there
under a different name). One day a young feller with long hair
sauntered up, pulled a harmonica from his pocket, asked if he could
sit in and did we know Cocaine Blues? He then played and sang quite
brilliantly for a few numbers - but had to leave as he was gigging
elsewhere that evening. He signed my set list with the name 'Paul
Butterfield'.... After this Pope Arrest Thing, I'm now
wondering if it really was him or whether he was just plain John Doe and was Usurpating
an Identity.
Anyway, stand by for the Return of The Family and Take My Word, dear
readers, there'll be none of that Identity mullarkey at the next
Reunion...
Pip Pip!
The Man in The Hat
pic thanks to Cartier Bresson, David Bailey and Norman Parkinson - possibly.
pic thanks to Cartier Bresson, David Bailey and Norman Parkinson - possibly.