One Lovin'

It’s been really busy here at Raby Towers, me and the minty-fresh Jonny Gill and the slinky-stealthy Ben Winterton have been making a BRAND NEW SHOW. It’s a fusion of theatre, poetry, music and comedy all about the perils, pitfalls and portrayals of LOVE. It’s called ONE LOVE. It will make you laugh a lot. It might make you a little sad. Stay tuned.

 

My solo show, Letter To The Man (from the boy) has also been confirmed for the International Youth Arts Festival in Kingston! It’ll be exciting taking the show somewhere entirely new, more details to follow!

I wanted to take this opportunity to reflect on three moments somebody said something, almost off hand, but it’s really stuck with me in my practise and art. Let’s review:

‘If you ask an audience member to help look for your dog, they go, “yeah, alright”’- Alan Lane, Slung Low.

Alan came and spoke in my 3rd year at the Workshop Theatre (BA English Literature & Theatre Studies, 2:1), and he also spoke at a NSDF training weekend I went to.  I really admire Slung Low, they make immersive but political work, and I’m looking forward to their collaboration with Pilot on Blood & Chocolate. But what Alan said is if you give someone a frame or a task, they’ll go along with it. They’ll play along. Audiences aren’t stupid, but they have been made passive and need direction and that’s why in LTTM we tried to really outline XYZ with neat instructions. Theatre is a game, and all the best games have a rule system. It’s about knowing the rules in the performance means the audience can relax and go along with the fun!  Below image from Slung Low's show Beyond The Frontline

 

‘The best writing workshops I’ve been in are ones where I’ve not realised I’ve written something good until it’s finished’- Tom Bellerby

Tom is an old friend and directed LTTM. He’s a director, not a writer by career, but anyone can write and anyone can write good stuff too. Whenever I plan a workshop, I try and use lots of games, techniques and playful formats to almost ‘trick’ people into writing good work. If they are really perturbed by writing, all they have to do is follow the instructions and it falls into place. It takes away the pressure, rather than saying “so now write a poem”.

 

‘The bigger the stage, the more work the eyes do’- Robin Lietch, Random Hand

I’m really paraphrasing, because this is something Robin from Random Hand said years ago before I really knew him as a friend. He was describing their first show at Leeds Festival, and the enormity of the stage. Robin has an amazing stage presence, he can dash around like a ska spider, but then he fixes the crowd with a GLARE. I think I’ve tried to explore my own style of performing, and with help from Tom, to have that fixed spot at the climax or important moment in a poem, to find that pinnacle where, after movement and energy, it gets brought down to the face and the eyes. It’s the difference between a reading and a performance.

 

That’s all for now!

Tiny Touring

It’s been a while since I blogged, but there’s plenty been going on!

I’ve been on something of a mini-tour, with SLAMalgamate in Newcastle, Outspoken Slam at Manchester’s Contact and Forget What You heard About Spoken Word in London.  I’ve also done a handful of York dates, an event for One Billion Rising and a local acoustic gig alongside Robin from Random Hand at the Black Swan.

Though I didn’t win either slams, it just goes to show the wealth of talent in the spoken word network, with artists in both Newcastle and Manchester proving their skills at dynamic performance.  Hat’s off to Zach Roddis with his fantastic celebration of LGBT rights activists.  I also got to see Dominic Berry and Dean Atta, two great professional poets.

Every so often, I am reminded I must raise my game.  This night at London proved just that, a wealth of talents at the open mic hosted by Steph Dogfoot and Matt Cummins.

 

But the event in York organised by VENT rally excited me.  In the small basement of Sontanos, I saw something I’ve been searching for a long time in York, energetic performance poetry delivered to an audience eager for energetic performance poetry.  It really makes me think we can build a strong scene of performance poetry in York.  My DIY sense is tingling.

So, coming up I’m just doing more writing, more little gigs and planning for the summer.  I’m looking for any chance to perform, so let me know if there are any slots of festival opportunities coming up.  We filmed the set at the Black Swan, with special collaboration with Travels By Telephone, so watch out for that soon!

Finally, here’s a poem I’ve submitted to Fit To Work:  Poets Against ATOS

I see my Grandson look drained and hard
Dragging weighted school books like worlds.
I ask him about lessons, he wearily replies
“We have been learning about modern history.”
I see shame in my Grandson's eyes
Despite him being registered blind
And I wish I had seen back then
Weary anger rising.

IF YOU TOLERATE THIS…

This poem was written for a VENT event in York raising awareness of women’s rights and rape across the world.  I wrote it when I was angry, and inspired by female activists over the past 100 years.

 

IF YOU TOLERATE THIS…

In York, 100 years ago in 1913

The suffragettes committed what some might call terrorism

They used explosive chemicals to blow up post boxes

In envelopes labelled to the PM, Lord Asquith

Based in their HQ, now Blue Fly bar

They made women’s right their hometurf war

They were radicals, the militant faction

Not making petitions but taking direct action

Here’s another blast from the past

When Dr King said:  “One day, free at last”

Some Black Americans screamed back loud

“Fuck one day, freedom NOW”

Rosa Parks, who would be 100 this year

Sat on a bus and refused to stir

Not because she just felt like it out of the blue

But because we was part of an existing activist doing what they had to do

Female Anarchist Assata Shakur said:  “Nobody in history has ever gotten their freedom by appealing to the moral sense of the people who oppress them”

Here’s the Emma Goldman, who tied dancing to revolution

No Gods, No Masters, No Borders, No Nations

Here’s to Florence Reece, who in 1931

Penned the great picketline song ‘Which Side Are You On?’

There’s the bosses in their towers, we’re picking at the crumbs

When they chip away our rights, join or build a Union

Here’s to Pussy Riot, could it ever happen here?

Where music and activism get you locked up for 6 years

Here’s to Kate Tempest, Poly Styrene and Eve Libertine

Here’s to Patti Smith, Bikini Kill and Huggy Bear

In 2010 in York streets we cried with schoolchildren “march strike occupy”

Now those kids are off to Uni, or not, so is activism about compromise?

I’ve stood before riot police but their visors masked their eyes

I get annoyed with partisan politics and Trade Union hierarchies

And the reason I’m so angry is I probably listen to too much punk music

All my Facebook friends and twitter follows are socialists and anarchists

Is this hot air and youthful romanticising

Have I watched too many Ken Loach films or read too many Guardian articles?

Check my privilege, white, male, heterosexual and cisgender

The only thing I cling to is at least I’m still bloody northern

And even then, it’s York!

Let’s cut beyond the rhetoric and revolutionary talk

The cuts they made to the arts are tokenistic and sadistic

Education is a right not a fucking privilege

ATOS declares disabled people fit for work

As a result, 73 people die every single week

The NHS is getting privatised, where’s parliament democracy?

Maybe we forgot about it when we waved our flags for the monarchy

They get tax breaks on second homes

Whilst the bedroom tax traps people with nowhere else to go

This isn’t just Tory-bashing, they may vote against equal marriage, refuse the existence of poverty

But under a Labour council, we still have food banks and a reliance on charity in the city

What’s on the rise in the UK:  here’s a quick list of troubles

Deportations, evicts, house repossessions, homelessness, the far right and the suicide levels

So why do Tory and Labour cuts only affect young people, disabled people, ethnic minorities and, well, essentially the poor?

So, is it time to believe they’re waging a class war?

If you don’t agree with this, fine, I’m venting, getting stuff off my chest

But I promise you one thing, never mind your privilege

If you tolerate this, then you’ll be next

FOLKÉMON COMPILATION.

FOLKÉMON

With the latest announcement of Generation X & Y earlier this week, now seems a good a time as any to launch this exciting new project.

Over the course of the next few months I am inviting artists to submit songs and poems based on a very specific theme.  This theme is, of course, the greatest creation of the 20^th century…POKÉMON.

 

This is a call out to musicians and poets across the world.  If you want to write, or indeed already have, a song or poem about the massive life-affirming franchise, please get in touch.

They can be autobiographical, about your experiences in the real world with Pokémon, or fictional based solely in the Pokémon world of the games, cartoon, cards or comics.  About any generation, from any perspective, about specific Pokémon, an event, a place or even an ode to hyper beam.  Or just about being the very best.

 

The intention is probably to create a free bandcamp album of songs and recorded poetry that anyone in the world can download, share and enjoy.

The FOLKÉMON COMPILATION.

E-mail me at henrythepoet@btinternet.com for more information or to sign up to be a part of project.

Once A Year

Once A Year – Henry Raby

Only the elderly moaned to themselves, as the elderly are wont to do

About the fact donkeys, now rare, were chained and locked away in zoos

And beaches were populated by reindeer, much more sturdy and trustworthy

Who gave rides to small children wearing goggles for health and safety purposes.

When the sun was shining, middle-class Dads would invite round neighbours

And proudly BBQ turkeys on their fancy 4 grill-setting charcoal-packed fires.

Snotty teens played music loudly on buses, but were never asked to listen quietly

For they played (through tinny phone speakers) Wizzard, Slade and Maria Carey.

When men were made redundant and unable to put crackers on the table

They’d take their frustration out on their wives without anyone to save them.

And those without trees, whether real or plastic, in their houses

Were inevitably hounded down by cold cults and hung noiselessly

And the wanted man known only to the public as ‘The Christmas Strangler’

Never had it so good.

This week in The Spoken Word Scene

This past week I have had the pleasure, nay, the privilege to catch five of the finest spoken word artists in the UK.

Scroobius Pip is zig-zagging across the country as we speak.  He brought to York the wordsmith PolarBear and speaking siren Kate Tempest.  I’ve seen PolarBear a few times, but he performed a collection of new work which genuinely overshadowed his older material.  His older stuff is generally story-based, but his new stuff had this charm of being about stories.  I’ve seen Kate doing a scratch of Brand New Ancients, so it was a treat to see her poems and Sound of Rum raps in a gig context.  Then of course, the man himself, Mr Pip, doing his gloomy-yet-honed spoken word.  Then last night I was invited to compere Sticks & Stones.  The weather dented the crowd somewhat but everyone there was up for a good night.  Sally Jenkinson, a poet I’ve not heard before, have a lovely intimate style.  But, for me personally, all four of these names are eclipsed by Inua Ellams.  Not necessarily because of any specific poem or writing style or deliver, but Inua has trailblazed this fusion of spoken word, poetry and theatre with his shows The 14^th Tale, Untitled and Knightwatch.  I haven’t been able to see any of them sadly, but his craftsmanship is undeniable in whatever genre he works within.

So 2013 is coming close.  I fully intend to Raise My Game.  To take on all quarters.  To get more gigs, do more events and perform at more festivals.  So…book me please?

 

 

Hip-hop is folk music grown from the struggle

We were having a conversation the other night about music, as people in pubs are wont to do.  The basic thread of the discussion was that music never sounds as good as when you first hear it.  Bands flagged up for our generation were general alternative sounds, Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Offspring and various nu-metal bands, and ages referenced about 13-14.

I’ve been thinking about the conversation last day or so, and thought about my Love Affair With blogs where I analyse my affection and history for bands which made me (click here for The Ramones, The Who and Sonic Boom Six).

I am a very nostalgic person, and I do cling to music passionately I discovered when I was 16.  The Clash, The Ramones, Sex Pistols…  But I guess the thing about those bands was I played them over and over again, learnt every single word to every song and read all the biographies, autobiographies and watched the documentaries.  And they came thick and fast all at once.  And within a very short space of time, pretty much 2005-2007.

However there is a song which for me, totally proves that I can still get excited my new music.  I had never heard of B.Dolan before I saw him support Scroobius Pip at Fibbers last year, and my only interaction with the name has been tweeting on Twitter and asking how much his CDs were.

B.Dolan comes from a spoken word/poetry background, but it essentially a rap artist.  My rap knowledge isn’t bad, but I’d never claim to be a hip-hop fan lest I put my foot in it.  I like NWA, Grandmaster Flash, Sage Francis, Lowkey, Jurassic 5, Flobots and, of course, Public Enemy, but I’m afraid I don’t know much beyond the artists I like into the genre as a whole.

But B.Dolan released House of Bees vol. 2, on which is a track called Which Sid Are You On.  This is an old, old Union song.  Probably to the punk scene, DKM have the most famous version, but I have a track recorded by Natalie Merchant and the Almanac Singers.  The song dates back to Florence Reece in 1931, and a perfect example of an America pro-Union pro-pikcetline folk tune.

B.Dolan’s version is about homophobia in the hip-hop scene, lambasting homophobic and sexist rappers and declaring unity and pride within the gay community.  It’s a powerful statement to make in America alone, never mind the rap circuit.  But B.Dolan has the conviction to pull it off, the lyrics are ferocious and direct, but also wrapped within his staunch delivery.  What I love, with the almost-eerie backdrop of the folk music, and I adore his lyric:  “Hip-hop is folk music grown from the struggle” and that understanding everything is connected linked and is a continual growth is so very exciting.

Tomorrow night I see the ace Al Baker, the man who without doubt cemented my love for radical folk music and opened my eyes to the folk-punk scene.  Al covers a song by Evan Greer called Go Call FEMA, but rewrote the lyrics for the UK.  Around 1930, poet Alfred Hayes wrote a tribute to mighty US socialist and Unionist Joe Hill called ‘I Dreamed I Saw Joe Hill Last Night’.  Earl Robinson turned the poem into a song in 1936 has been covered and adapted by Pete Seeger, The Dubliners, Billy Bragg and Tom Morello.  Al’s version is a dedication to 1960s folk icon Phil Ochs.  That is the tradition of folk music, to hand down a song and for each generation to tweak, change and adapt.

Listen to the track here:  http://albaker.bandcamp.com/track/all-the-news-thats-fit-to-sing-song-for-phil-ochs

This probably comes down to me being a fairly obsessive person, I get fixated easily on one genre/thing.  However I think for hip-hop and folk, there are still new areas to explore.  Folk and hip-hop has deep roots but constantly evolve.  Punk does too, but in a more dawdling fashion.  Theatre evolves too, the second we say “everything has been done that can be done” we have failed ourselves as artists and our audiences.

So please watch B.Dolan’s Which Side Are You On, come see Al Baker on Saturday night at the Black Swan and keep music fresh, and still get excited by the evolution.

Some bands I recently discovered that have blown my mind:

I would LOVE to catch Apologies, I Have None and Crazy Arm live. Last year I discovered Louise Distras, Grace Petrie and Richie Blitz as fantastic political folk musicians.  I will go and skank to Faintest Idea at Pie Race 4 next week.  And Jake & The Jellyfish are still to release a proper album.  I’m listening to Crowns new album.  It’s not flawless, but a find addition.  And Frank Turner has never set me wrong.