A link to Geoff Veasey's original article on his blog.
Rod Felton R.I.P. A Personal Tribute.
“JB Lenoir is dead and it's hit me like
a hammer blow.”
So wrote British Bluesman John Mayall, when he learned suddenly of the death of an
artist who he admired greatly. That's how I felt this morning. When I heard
suddenly. A hammer blow. I was still on
a high over a job well done in a Folk Club last night. When I learned that
Roddie, Roddy, Rod The Mod, Felton-they've all gone. That cheeky grin, that trademark long hair,
the pony tail, the tie-backs and headscarves. Those biceps, the earrings, the
onstage (and offstage) outbreaks of cussing. The funny voices, the timbre,the
way he could drop a vocal down and then rasp it across a big room without any
amplification. The infectious laugh-the mix of sad, sweet, funny and downright
brilliant songs-we've lost them all.
Look, none of us are immortal, I understand that. We all have to
go some time, and he had a longer run than many of us had expected, given his
lifestyle. Coventry and Warwickshire has produced plenty of excellent singer-songwriters/musicians
in his genre. Martin Jenkins, Mick Stuart, Dave Bennett, Rob Armstrong and
Kevin Dempsey for example. But Rod
Felton for me really stood out, and he
changed things, creatively for me. He
has been a big influence on my songwriting, my vocal style and my public
performance for nearly 50 years. Words
like talismanic, iconic and legendary are overused. But he was all of those
things. And more.
I have no doubts whatsoever that with the
right management, the right recording opportunities,the right production and
some better advice he would have made it nationally. Possibly Internationally.
He could be infuriating, unreliable and very rude at times. He had issues, he had demons which he
occasionally bettered and kept subdued. He met some challenges which he only
ever partly conquered. But his percussive guitar style, his anecdotes, his long
and hilarious introductions to his own songs, that odd Coventry/Cockney accent,
his appearance, his presence, that swagger,
his demeanour-they were all engaging. And they could be mesmeric. Some,
especially some of the “ladies” found him a tiny bit scary. I found him
approachable, friendly, funny and very supportive. He could also be disarmingly
honest. If he liked something-he told you. If he didn't,then he had innate charm which could wrap it up a little-but he still told
you. If he said,”Drop that,mate” or , “Keep that” he was usually
right. He adored “Vacuum Cleaner” and if he was ever at any of our gigs,
he requested it. And got it.
During the 1960's, Rod lived in Tennyson
Road, the street next to mine. I was aware of him whilst I was just leaving
Primary School. I first saw him perform
in a pub in Primrose Hill Street. It was my introduction to “Live” Folk Music
and I didn't think much of most of it quite honestly. I was into football,
steam trains, girls and The Beatles.
There was a lot of finger-in-the ear stuff that night, and only Rod Felton
registered with me at all. I saw him again, a year or two later, in the City
Arms, Earlsdon. Where (again) he stood out as a talented and charismatic
performer. Later still, I got involved
in an emerging if slightly sedate Jazz Blues Poetry and Folk scene in
Coventry. First by reading poetry at The
Umbrella Club. Then I started helping out with a Thursday Night Music and
Poetry Club in Coventry Cathedral's International Centre. It was very Bohemian.
A coffee bar:lots of pretty foreign girls from all over the world. Folk and
acoustic music and Poetry. We started pulling local guests in . One of those
listed factors attracted Rod. Often.
I left school, moved away to London and
so did he, I think. It was the mid-1970's before I saw him again. By which time
we had formed Black Parrot Seaside. Evolving through various genres, we then
tumbled via Rock and Punk into Folk. And our paths suddenly began to cross
again.
We began running a Folk Club in
Brinklow at The Bulls Head. Rod was a regular. Either as the featured Act or
just popping in for a noodle on the guitar, a smoke, a jam, a pint and a chat.
If anything, he was even more outrageous than before. Sometimes he appeared as
part of The New Modern Idiot Grunt Band with his mate Rob Armstrong. It became
apparent that our tastes in music our creative writing and our sense of humour
were not dissimilar. We got a record and management deal ourselves. We began
bumping into Rod Felton at so many venues. The Cheylesmore, The Rose &
Woodbine, The Mercers Arms, The Barras, The Freemasons, The Pitts Head, The
Grange-all in Coventry. The Cornerhouse, The Woolpack, (Rugby) Nuneaton Arts
Centre and beyond.
BPS split up (amicably) and didn't play
together again for 30 years. When we re-united
in 2006, Rod was still out there! Still doing the circuit. Still
entertaining people. He was delighted to see us. Our paths had diverged, but whenever and
wherever we met after that, the bone-crushing hug or powerful handshake, were
just as spontaneous. The rapport was instant. Some people saw us as a threat to
their own niche. Rod never did. He was
far too smart to slip into that kind of trap.
He saw us as complimenting his audience and warming them up for him so
that he could take them on and charm them into utter submission. The last time we performed alongside him was at The Maudslay Hotel in Coventry. He
had confided then that something was not right health-wise. He seemed not quite
himself that night. Later we found out that he was seriously ill. He fought the
illness and for a while seemed to have got the drop on it.
Whilst writing this, and sniffling a little,
I was interrupted. I had to stop and switch off the computer, due to a sudden
and spectacular thunderstorm. In March!
Rod always was the Showman! And
he always liked to let you know he was there.
..........................................................
RODFEST
By Geoff Veasey
It was just one of those occasions when you had to be there. But I'll try to do it justice,for those who missed it and had wanted to be. I'm sorry for you if you did miss it, for it was memorable event. One massive collaboration, to pay homage to a great singer,writer guitarist and performer. Mr. Rod Felton. What a tribute, that so many turned out, proving that acoustic ethnic music, whether traditional, self-penned, blues or contemporary, can still fill a big room, midweek, in these cynical times.
I've never seen the music room at The Humber Hotel full to overflowing. Not a chair free, not a space left in the Car Park, nor in the streets outside. An audience which spilled out into the garden and into other rooms. Like his funeral and the Wake at The Whitefriar, people came from far and wide to share the slowly easing grief of losing him, and to celebrate his life.
So many people to thank before we even get on to the performers. Karen, Rob Armstrong and Sheila, for seeing the concept through to reality. Volunteers like Sue Phipps, working tirelessly to lay out and clear away the catering. Chris Tobin for masterminding the sound throughout, and thereby sacrificing the opportunity to play himself. The bar staff, soldiering on gamely, as a big crowd, clearly in the mood to enjoy themselves, damn near drank the place dry. And I'll say it (as no-one else will!) , the whole show was inimitably and seamlessly compered by Folk's Ant and Dec, Geoff Veasey and John Mackintosh.
And then, let us salute the performers. Many with a tale to tell. All bar one (the Mighty Aral-of which more later) with a song or two to sing. Keith Donnelly, Carol Gillespie, Stephen and Sara Bennett, Dan Gascoigne, Kathleen Fear and Sally Ann Veasey, Dennis Clarke, Julie Neale, Thruppn'y Bits, Terry and Jan Wisdom, Sean Cannon, Pete Willow,Joe Beale, Rik Middleton, Black Parrot Seaside, Terry St Clair, and to close the show, Rob Armstrong, Sheila Rigg and Nick Wroughton.
Dennis, Rik, Pete and ourselves were amongst those to bravely tackle a Roddy song. For let me tell you, so complex are they, in notation and vocal phrasing, that they take some copying. And those who knew his performances well will tell you that he often changed words around and rarely let anyone see his guitar tunings.
Aral (or Arul) is a stalwart of The Tump, and has turned up at Parrot gigs way back into the Rock area. ( That giant Sky Rocket, going rogue and creating havoc in the Police Tent during one of our sets at an early Godiva Festival? Did he have a hand in that? He just grins whenever I remind him of it!). He did a comedy routine involving imaginary chewing gum and Keat's poem “The Wreck of The Hesperus”, which combined mime, Chaplinesque comedy and circus clowning. Brilliant.
Katherine Fear and Sally Anne Veasey were good together. I'd not seen that combination before. It works. They should resurrect it. Jan and Terry (or is it Terry and Jan?) got our feet tapping, Julie Neale tugged heartstrings with “ Tears In Heaven” and the Thruppn'ys made us smile with two of their more vulgar routines. The young Bennetts and Dan Gascoigne brought youth and guitar wizardry into the equation,and Sean Cannon was, well, as always... Sean Cannon.
As for us-The Bold Parrots-newly cemented as a permanent foursome (we've made David Parr sign up on contract), we were a little anxious beforehand about doing “Curly.” It's probably Rod's greatest song, and I knew it had personal sentiment for some people in the room. But we were well pleased with our rendition (after only one rehearsal) of it. We wrapped up our spot with two BPS originals “The Odeon” (which Rod told me, first time he heard it,” that's a keeper, mate!” and “ Albert Balls” another one which always used to make him laugh.
Before the Show, as is my custom when appearing at The Tump, I'd got the bus into Cov. and spent some time lost in reminiscence and nostalgia. I had an early pint in The Whitefriar-one of Rod's favourite haunts. Then I walked past my old school, my old house, where I used to play on bomb sites and in factory yards, and across where the old railway line used to be. Deep in memories. Up Northfield Road, where I used to live. All student bedsit land now. And into The Humber Hotel.
Admission was free last night, but by donations and via the raffle, £516 was raised for The Felton family's nominated Charity, the Tibetan Education and Relief Association. Was I conscious of Rod's spirit anywhere? In The Alehouse and in the streets of Stoke, no, not in truth. But in that room last night? Oh yes. He was there. As so many people said, “He'd have loved it.”
One final thought. We have generated together so much love and goodwill first at Rod's funeral, then at the Wake, then last night. We have filled rooms, chapels, pubs and concert venues. With song, laughter, networking and fund-raising. Need it all end here? Need that momentum now be forgotten and then lost? Couldn't we make RODFEST an annual event? What better way to make our tribute permanent?
No comments:
Post a Comment