We are here to remember the dead and fight for the living.
We are here to talk about work. Work that defines, unites and sustains us; work that defiles, exploits and destroys us. We are here to talk about hard work; the language of the working class, co-opted and corrupted by those who would rule over us. We are here to reclaim our words and our work, in the time-honoured, traditional way.
And it goes like this…..”
Join us in Abbotts Park, E10 on Sunday for our combined workers’ memorial and May Day celebration. The event starts at 1:15pm and runs to 5pm. We’ll be lighting the blue touchpaper around 4:00.
“A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle” said Irina Dunn, and so it is that the Fish & Bicycle Club sets out to bring intimate singer-songwriter nights to Kikirocs in South Woodford featuring a monthly bill of whom at least half are women.
My views on music not as competition notwithstanding, on May 3rd, in the blue corner, we have me, and London-based folk singer Luke Fairhead, described as having “upbeat acoustic optimism in a Frank Turner-y kinda way”. Frank Turner, fuck me that splits opinion. I know a song about him.
In the other blue corner will be Geri Van Essen who learned to sing in the choirs of her Dutch childhood before tripping over a banjo in Bethnal Green and becoming an East London-based folk singer. Cerys Matthews on BBC R6 said of Geri that “her voice stood out”. Better that than the banjo, Russ.
The final member of the quartet is singer-songwriter, theatre performer and London Underground busker Jax Braithwaite. We know a walking project about that. She’s not afraid to admit to being born in Essex, nor to being infused with a “quirky sense of style and smooth melody”.
A sapid evening of singer-songwriteriness therefore awaits, spoiled only by my brutish poetry and three-chord political dogma. There are songs left unsung from the Wanstead Tap show and poetry left unsaid. I should also explain more about the born in Essex connection and the Peasants Revolt. I shall make a list.
Kikirocs can be found in George Lane, a few short steps from South Woodford tube station. If you can’t see the Railway Bell, you’ve come out of the wrong exit.
In front of me is a list of songs that is too long.
Some say that’s a good problem to have, that the converse is worse, but I want to tell a story of a couple embroiled in modern British life under the shadow of Brexit. I want to visit their past and future in happier and sadder songs. I want to sing a pop song about the struggle of our trans comrades. I want to laugh at debate without experts and rage at a system that burns people in their homes. I want to play punk for the animals and tell the tale of a revolution in a small Essex village that grew legs and marched on the capital. I want to mock an institution with its boot still on our necks, and genuinely laud their gardeners.
And I haven’t even started on Little Tommy and his crew.
A bill this good requires compromise, there’s only so much time and some crossing out to do. What gets left behind will get carried over, more on that later.