Big Gigs

On Thursday, Say Owt put on the biggest gig of our 4.75 years of existence.  The previous 120 capacity record has been defeated by 200 people at The Crescent to see Hollie McNish.

Weirdly, in the weeks run up to this gig, I did the least amount of work I’d ever done for a gig.  The event had sold out, so no need to promote.  The venue got everything sorted and just needed to provide a mic. Compared to previous events where we fought for every ticket sale, needed to source chairs, equipment, organise the venue, this was all a straight-forward.  We did record a podcast with Hollie, which you can hear here!

I don’t mean to say this was an easy gig, but it did feel all the previous harder work and harder input was paying off with a comparatively easier event.

But what really struck me about the gig was how Hollie, with such a large fanbase, brought so many new people to a Say Owt gig.  I always ask for a cheer if the crowd have been to a Say Owt gig before, a cheer if new and the response is nothing short of edge-of-your-seat keen!  Certainly got a good block noise from newcomers!

With my business hat on, it’s a great opportunity to promote to new audiences to come to our smaller gigs (like this one plug plug!). But it’s also so valuable to feel part of a growing scene, where a night out watching poetry and spoken word is the same as a music gig, comedian or piece of theatre.  Maybe even one day we’ll have the same tribal bulk as football?

But what matters to me most is that we are bringing new people to the genre, and providing a platform not just for performers, for audiences to feel part of a scene and an inclusive artform.  Whether a gig has 20 people in a pub backroom, or 200 people at a big gig venue, as long as the gig is inclusive, passionate, honest and quality than we (as promoters & hosts) are doing a good job.

One person on Instagram said “First poetry gig I’ve been to, and absolutely loved it!  Thank you.  You were all amazing!”

Thank you everyone for coming, and Hollie for being rad!!!

Fight For Your Right To Youth Strike

I wasn’t always this angry, you know.

When I was a teenager, I was mainly interested in the latest Games Workshop release.  This rock n’ roll lifestyle didn’t kick in until later.

In 2003 Tony Blair’s New Labour Government began talk of war, and I was 14, a few months shy of my 15^th birthday.  The Conservatives, ever the Party of Flag & Country, back the war.  My general mood was:  If we have to do it, we’ve got to do it.  I saw rule-following as inherently a ‘good’ thing, and I wanted to be a good person.  It was an era of early Harry Potter books and Lord of The Rings with the ‘good’ pure protagonist.  The angsty Potters and Katniss Everdeens would come later.

2 million people marched in London against the war, and in York school students marched out and sat on York bridges for hours.  Not my school, though I don’t think I would have joined them even if I’d known about it or the person sat next to me had stood up in defiance.

From 2004-2009, a mixture of Youth Theatre, Nietzsche, Communist History tutors, punk music and University lefties helped shape my worldview in later years, just in time for the 2010 coalition to feel my ire.  But it’s not just about politics, it’s also about confidence and courage.  I would have been too nervous, too introverted to break such a cornerstone rule of classes and walk out, even if it was a cause I was committed to.

This is my biggest regret in life.

Across 2019 in the UK, school students have been walking out of classes once a month inspired by Greta Thunberg and the European movements.  I’ve had the pleasure to attend the first Leeds walk-out, followed by two in York.  They have been colourful, passionate and, of course angry.  But mainly hopeful and good-spirited.  I’ve been proud to donate my megaphone.

I suppose I wanted to say to any introverted young person, to the nerdy studious kids who are mainly indoor gamers and readers: 

You are so much braver than you realise, and if you want to protest please know you are powerful.

When The Dust Settles

“When this is all over” Hope declares

“We will have the biggest party the world has ever seen.”

What she means is

“When we win.”

Hope is breathing in a lungful.

Does she mean “we” as in everyone in this square

The ‘we’ who painted placards bright in the sunlight

Drew a tearful polar bear, pathetic ice caps

Black seas, dying trees

Slogans standing beside memes

Save, planet and burn being the main themes.

Rallied together despite the disapproval and threats

“What do we want?!” she roars

“Climate justice!” comes the reply

“When do we want it?!”

Or does she mean “we” as in everyone on Earth

The ‘we’ who feel the increase of heat

Temperatures rise, failing of crops

Or flooded populations, poisoned seas

Butchering of trees.

“When the dust settles” she explains

“We will celebrate”

School students walked out, risked detention or worse

When they march, they clamber onto shoulders and street signs

Seek applause from passer-bys

But seek no permission.

There are 9-year olds here, wide-eyed gripping parent’s hands

Born in 2010, making the same demands.

Used blue and green chalk to make the street beautiful

With a great full planet Earth.

Now, they congregate and the square has been claimed.

Hope tells me she spent years soaking up angry truths

Tapping Twitter hashtags, joining Facebook Groups

Now she wants to make the News.

She takes over the soundsystem and the square erupts

Music plays from the speakers, dancing is a relief.

Across the world, streets are shut

Tents pitched, lock-ons clicked

Glue is used, Police are tricked.

There is no possibility of failure, a final full stop

No possibility for compromise, as time flies.

But emergencies can still be fun

And I can’t wait until we’ve won.

When do we want it?

Now now now