The Blues Is A Broad
Church.
Many blogs back, The
Hat pondered the notion of becoming The Pope of British Bluesdom. I
have some of the qualifications - neat headware, an inclination for
trendy single colour outfits, an excellent grasp of Latin Cliches, a
firm belief in serendipity and karma and a life-long penchant for
mass spellbound and adoring audiences.
However, on reflection,
I quickly realised the basic shortcoming of the post. I knew that when, as
Blues Pope, I would say anything vaguely controversial - like “I
quite like Paul McCartney” or “I think Eric gets a bad press” - at least two million of my followers would immediately Troll the Daylights out
of everything I wrote, and whenever I attended a festival in my
See-Through Bluesmobile, I would be cornered by Mr and Mrs SRV
Gallagher and their separatists movement demanding my head on a
platter. Prejudice is out there but often wrapped up in the blind
excuse of passion. So, in the interests of Peace and Harmony, I have, for the moment, abandoned the idea and will continue to hang around in the corners of
blues bars with hat down low and my collar turned up...
Prejudice or not, the
Broad Church idea sticks. That is what it is. Heavy Les, Cool Keys, Bravissimo Bass. Drum Mania, Softly Softly, Break Your Eardrums, One Piece, Two Piece, Any Piece. Terrifying Yoof. Familiar Friend. Everybody In, Party On.
So.. Let's talk about
sex - and I don't mean the kind that Just Wants You To Make Love To
Me, Jelly Roll or Money Makers. I mean gender....and prejudice.
Anyone who thinks
British Blues or Blues Rock are for old blokes with generous stomachs
is sadly out of touch and has been for some time. Right now, not only
is the blues world overflowing with female talent of a show-stopping,
jaw-dropping, gob-smacking standard, many would say women are leading
the way with every possible take on the genre. From wild hillbilly
punch-you-in-the-mouth to hold-back-the-tears via shatter-the-windows
rock, women are prominent wherever you go. They are writing some of
the best songs, playing some of the best guitar, bass, drums, harp,
keyboards, flute and saxophone and are out there fronting up with
some of the most Exciting and Beautiful Voices on the planet.
Why Not? This is No Big
Deal. What is The Big Deal is that it is no big deal....anymore.
The blues and jazz
worlds have a terrible track record for the way they have treated
women in the past. A glance at the history of many of our most famous
female singers reveals a horrendous story of abuse, discrimination,
exploitation and mis-management – mainly by men. The fact that this
has been consigned to history is something of which the blues
community, in particular, can be proud. It was not easy and it is a
tribute not only to the raw talent of the women involved but also to
their determination to break from those absurd shackles. The
situation is now so different. It is a level playing field governed
by the input of talent and you only have to browse the festival
line-ups over the last few years to see the powerful representation
from the sistas.
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| Lorna Fothergill sings the Final Song... |
The Hat has always had
a huge place in his heart for female musicians and particularly
female singers and songwriters who seem able, like none other, to
touch nerve-endings and tear ducts in even the hardest of hearts –
and then of course they can, (and often do!) grab the mic and take the
paint off the walls. I have quite liked the idea that the Hebden
Bridge Blues Festival, over its four years, has consistently offered
a major platform to much of the finest female blues and soul talent in the country –
and fittingly closed its final evening with a superb band fronted by
a superb, female singer.
It's probably just as
well I am not The Blues Pope. My church, rather like that terrific
chapel in Hebden would be bursting with women raising the roof,
jumping on the pews and praising the blues lord. Bessie, Billie and Ella would be in the front row with Sister Rosetta.
Also, it occurs to
me that it is a good job that men never picked up that disturbing
habit of throwing their knickers on to the stage....
Pip Pip!
The Man in The Hat