London Viola Player, Violinist & Arranger For Hire

Martin Ash LTCL

Horns and devils

Posted on

This was an unusual weekend for the Filthy Spectacula. Sister pub/venues the Magic Garden and the Fox and Firkin had hired us back to back, the Saturday being a Halloween special.

Who you’re put on a bill with always says a lot about how that client perceives you (unless they’re the sort of shoestring booker that just sticks a load of bands on the same night without regard to coherence and pays them peanuts countedaccording to who the audience say they’ve come to see when they’re interrogated on the door). It’s perhaps even more revealing when you are yourselves playing a support slot, which (a little unusual for us lately) we were both times – who are you seen as a good warm up for? Who will the vibe you set up be right, or at least non-contradicto ry, with?

The people behind these gigs definitely see us as located somewhere around the Balkan beat / gypsy punk genre, it appears. We may not use any horns or accordion, sing in Romanian or any other central European tongue or feature any really extended instrumental dance-tune sections let alone entire numbers, but this is a genre that fiddle, minor keys, speeding up and choppy offbeats (despite the name, Balkan beat has involved an element of ska fusion from the word go) gets us attached to intermittently by those that aren’t interested in the goth, steampunk or pirate scenes. Perhaps it’s really just about what sort of dancing you inspire.

And most of those things were common to the bands, in many ways startlingly similar, we supported the two nights. Friday’s Discount Orchestra made no claim to anywhere other than South London in fairness, sang only originals in English as far as I noticed, and insisted upon ‘folk’ as part of the label (though I wasn’t hearing much British trad in their set). But klezmerish fiddle check, accordion check, horns check (tenor sax, trombone, some clarinet when their female singer wasn’t singing funnily enough), and most of the style points listed above. Especially the instrumentals.

Saturday’s Destroyers were much closer again to the hard core of the genre. Still a fair few English originals in evidence, but genuine European trad material too (late set featured singalong chorus claiming to be from Romania: words ‘la la la la lein’ and repeat with varying numbers of la’s). Adding two gypsy jazz guitarists to the mix (one of the unusual features of the Discount Orchestra was dispensing with guitar altogether – with bass, drums and a good accordionist the absence wasn’t felt) plus the usual fiddle-accordion pairing and an epic wind lineup of (take a deep breath) two trumpets, trombone, euphonium, flute and clarinet made a total of 12 players on stage. Vocals appeared to be shared between whoever could reach a mike, with most lead duties done by fiddle, accordion or one of the trumpets. The effect, though, was very much the same as the rather smaller band, except for some Prohibition-era jazz trumpet rasping in places and entertaining but utterly decontextualised reggae romp ‘Vortex Cannon’ (you’d be amazed how many words rhyme with ‘vortex’ if you don’t care that much about how much sense the result makes).

Very much fun, danceable live acts – and that is a label that I often put on the Spectacula – but I couldn’t help wondering if this was entirely a match, or just that the management wanted to hire us for both and we fit well enough. Witty referential lyrics and punkish audience-engagement antics play a much larger role in our identity, and serpentine klezmer-gypsy melodies or punchy riffs over two-chord loops a much smaller one. In fairness I think you have to have a lot of energy to enjoy a Balkan beat set, and our offstage behaviour (not our performances!) was decidedly marked by two rounds of staggeringly frustrating London transport failures, affecting all of us on at least one trip there. Maybe if the roads had been averagely clear and the trains run on time, I would be writing a slightly less guarded article about having a whale of a time bouncing around to bands a little like mine only with massive horn sections and more time off from the vocalist …

This was a three-gig weekend for me. Tune in tomorrow (if I have the time and energy to write – if not, whenever I do) for reflections on something completely different on Sunday!

Studio craft

Posted on

Friday’s recording session for Annie Lee Evans explored some slightly new territory for me. Not so much because it was in Brighton (considering the distance, I end up there surprisingly often), but in the sense of the musical techniques involved. Let me explain.

My recording experience to date has generally been based around the principle of live in the studio, even if that is a starting point from which to depart. So, for instance, the Filthy Spectacula album was actually recorded by doing full band takes of which only the drum and bass parts were final, the violin, guitar and vocal lines being used as guides while we overdubbed the master versions. Then various overdubs were applied to what were more or less the live arrangements. However, at any given point the person recording had the full band arrangement in his/her headphones, by a combination of live feed, already recorded final track, and guide. And the songs existed (with one or two exceptions I can remember) from start to finish as wholes in the timing and layout of the finished product.

For various reasons, this track – soon to go public as a pro-standard vocal demo of jazz standard ‘Autumn Leaves’ – was constructed differently, both in terms of order and studio method. The materials being assembled were a piano backing track (split in two and framed), vocal (master take done after I left; I did use an approximate guide for some sections), and the strings I had arranged and was recording. The latter amounted to a three-part section (two violins and viola) through most of the track, all of which I was double-tracking for a more lush ‘orchestral’ sound in line with Annie’s vision and influences for the track, plus an improvised violin obbligato responding to the voice in roughly the second half.

So far, not much seems to need to change. The extra complications arise mainly from the two sections of the new arrangement that are not added on to any part of the piano track. At some stage in the process, therefore, there had to be a splicing together stage: introduction onto first half of piano track onto interlude onto second half of piano track. And since you can’t conduct a multi-track dub stack, the introduction and interlude were recorded to click; but the piano track featured heavy rubato so the click couldn’t continue through it.

There would have been an option to piece together a ‘rhythm track’ of piano and click, by positioning sections, which each part could then be dubbed over top to bottom. But this was a home studio session on limited time and that isn’t the way most recording engineers would approach it. So instead we recorded the four sections separately, with their six or (the second half of the piano track, with the improv) seven tracks each, and made detailed notes of how the three joins were to work. Ignoring out-takes, 25 distinct recorded sections being layered on top of each other in groups and then joined end-to-end with specific timing so the whole thing has a single rhythmic flow. It was an unusual afternoon’s playing!

Also an unusual place to leave off, since not only have I not heard final mix, EQ, etc. etc. etc. (which is quite normal, especially for a session player as opposed to a band member), but I haven’t heard the sections joined together in order and correct timing. I have faith in the process, the people and the material involved, but the unusual thing is that faith is required in the absence of my ears corroborating it directly. I look forward to the release with more interest than usual!

Houses of all kinds

Posted on

Saturday’s Kindred Spirit gig was one of the best attended and best appreciated pub gigs I think I’ve ever played, with any band. Well, OK, count out St Patrick’s nights and special pleading for the Yellow Book being a ‘bar’ not a pub. Whatever. It was an excellent night with a crowd that were attentive at the right points and energetic at the other ones. Kindred Spirit follower Carlos Atkinson even found someone to agree with his established labelling of me as ‘the Lindsey Buckingham of the violin’ (which I’m going to stop quoting before it ends up on my tombstone).

Anyway, it kind of deserved to be a good gig. The band were on fine form (I thoroughly enjoyed solo duelling with Becky Menday, guesting on sax, whistles and BVs). We had excellent interval support from a drummerless incarnation of Grand Union, with close harmonies, textured stringpicking and jazz-channelling double bass wrapped around trad songs and convincingly folky originals. They reminded me a lot of Pentangle with a mandolin (which is a real compliment in my book!), and not just because their second number was ‘Blackwater Side’.

And I really shouldn’t let the venue go without a mention. Live music twice a week in the bar is an impressive schedule; the Cross Lances takes the community hub concept seriously enough to run darts, pool, poker and raffles too, but music is definitely at the heart of what makes it distinctive. I had to pop back the following day to reclaim a mislaid blood sugar meter, and not only had they found and carefully retained it (bonus point), landlord Adie was insistent on showing me round not only the cupboard containing half a dozen guitars, an amp and a perfectly adequate 6-channel PA (most bands could gig on that no problem), but also the piano he had saved from scrap and is in the process of getting up to proper playing scratch (it needs its second round of tuning at time of writing, but is already playable). How myself and long-suffering girlfriend ended up playing it in turn is a story for another time …

Rather more private goings-on on Friday, when I head down to Brighton for some home studio overdubbing, digging out my jazz chops (in one form or another – arrangements still being thrashed out over email). An overnight shift of gear for Saturday’s gig then, as the String Project support a rare live performance by ex-CRASS vocalists Penny Rimbaud and Eve Libertine, at East Oxford Community Centre. Tickets will be available on the door, but I’d recommend turning up early as this one will surely sell out. See you down the front … it’s an intimate performance space, you’ll be down the front unless you’re at the bar!

Rambling Man

Posted on

Readers who know me in person will know that I can keep talking for a very long time. Regular readers who haven’t spoken to me may still have guessed based on the length of the average post on here. It isn’t that kind of rambling I’m setting out to write about though …

In fact, there hasn’t been much vocal rambling when I can help it for nearly a fortnight now, as I’ve battled with a particularly intractable cold and some engagements I was determined not to break. I have covered a lot of miles in the name of music though!

On Saturday, I was in a performance space in Liverpool Hope University, dressed up in black tie and bringing with me a violin and a mandolin. That combination means a classical gig of course – in this case, ‘bump’ to the Liverpool Metropolitan Cathedral Orchestra, an exceptionally good amateur chamber orchestra with strong family connections (and that I played with myself during the holidays as a student). Despite playing second violin for most of the programme (two Mozart overtures and various arias, duets and trios from the corresponding operas plus one other), the significant reason for me being there was having undertaken to get my fingers round the mandolin obbligato to one particular number, a serenade from Don Giovanni, in three and a half days and one run-through. Considering mandolin outings to date have been folk/Americana territory, and I’m not sure I’d reached top D on the instrument at all, never mind in fully scored scales and broken chords, I’m rather pleased with the result – certainly with the reaction of the orchestra. I’ll certainly be keeping that on record as a skill (even if hoping for slightly more practice time in future!).

Two days later, I was dressed slightly further down and only armed with the usual violin (and pickup), but in the slightly more exalted surroundings of a high-end hotel ballroom in Chiswick. The event this time background music for a formal lunch commemorating the place’s reopening post expansion and refurbishment – a band with function and Irish capacities had been hired in honour of the nationality and tastes of the chain’s owner, and request for a semi-acoustic set meant out with the bass and drums, in with mandolin (not me!) doubling tenor banjo, and with the fiddle. Thankfully as an instrumentalist you can play a good set while being barely able to speak let alone sing for sore throat! Function gigs do have their perks  – loss of the odd day’s leave from the desk job is probably more than compensated for by being able to earn at a time of the week other than Friday or Saturday evening, and by being ushered to extra helpings of the guests’ main course and the wine bottles left open but not empty …

That same evening took me down the road to Hounslow, to rehearse with Kindred Spirit – an indication that a more normal version of my gig schedule is getting back under way. This Saturday, the full band play for all comers at the Cross Lances near home base. A week exactly from then, the String Project warm up for a rare gig from members of poetry-driven first-wave punks CRASS (meaning I’m playing a gig in Oxford, which is almost as rare). The following weekend is the nearest to Halloween, and unsurprisingly The Filthy Spectacula are breaking off our post-festival season rest to do a double bill – Friday 28th at Battersea’s Magic Garden, Saturday 29th at Lewisham’s Fox and Firkin. Only plan to come to both if you have a heroic liver (and dancing legs) …

Meanwhile in the slightly more distant future I’ve just been lined up for a very exciting one-off (for now) performance, but being flashmob-style and at a private event I probably shouldn’t reveal too much for now!

In and out of the public eye

Posted on

Some unusually non-public work is going on currently, for the general life of a professional performer. (Though it’s a paradox that, in the particular world of non-classical covers acts (ie most people that actually make money from rock, pop, soul, etc.), performing at private events (weddings, posh parties, Forces dinners, you name it) is much more sort after, because more remunerative, than at events which are open to the public at large.)

Saturday gone, the Filthy Spectacula were out and about filming our next video (look up ‘Murder of Crows’ on Spotify for the accompanying track). It rained most of the day, we were outside for all of it, much fake blood was spilled and a surprising number of real hand tools were swung around in a fashion that would have been life-threatening with less carefully judged distances. Watch this space for results – but don’t watch them alone.

This coming Monday, meanwhile, besides rehearsing with Kindred Spirit for our next band gig (the Cross Lances, Hounslow, Friday 15th October – be there or be the usual equilateral rectangular quadrilateral), I’m playing a private function in a Chiswick hotel, with an acoustic reshuffling of the Razzberry Jam band (if the name seems familiar, I’ve guested with them the last two St Patrick’s nights). My housemates and neighbours have been spending a fair bit of this week putting up with me learning or refreshing my memory of 2 hours of material, from the unsurprising with an Irish singer and a fiddle in the lineup (Fields of Athenry, the Corrs’ Runaway) to the slightly less predictable (Long Train Running, Proud Mary and Bill Withers’ Lovely Day).

In between those I’m fitting in a trip up to home turf in Merseyside, to make my classical mandolin performance début as a hired extra hand to the Liverpool Metropolitan Cathedral Orchestra. The poor Gretsch mandolin is being dragged kicked and screaming back 150 years from its origins to provide the obbligato in Mozart’s ‘Deh vieni alla fenestra’. (I’ll be spending the rest of the concert – other arias and the overtures from Don Giovanni and Cosi fan tutte – in the rather more familiar territory of bumping the 2nd violins).

And for anyone who reads this blog regularly, yes, this is the last weekend of what seemed like a worryingly dry patch for gigs (in fairness, music video shoots aren’t paid). Shows I should be careful what I wish for …

Out on the street

Posted on

Freelance work is by nature unreliable. Music work tends to be particularly fickle because most of the contracts are small (one gig!) and you can’t build up cash by taking on two at once.

As you might have realised from previous posts, I had a good and at times excellent stream of gigs over this summer. However, as fluke would have it and as if to highlight the fragility of the situation, I then found myself with no confirmed bookings for four weeks straight – something which certainly hasn’t happened for at least six months, and I think rather longer. And as I always live fairly near the financial edge, something constituting a legitimate cause for concern (though not for immediate panic).

So this week I tried going busking. I’ve only done that in the usual sense a couple of times before, but it seemed to deserve thought as a top-up income when gigs are scarce. The thought had never really struck me, but busking is the only truly flexible musical income – the only paying work you can do when you want to, on more or less your own terms (except financially obviously, where you take what the public gives you).

Since weekends are still quite busy, I wanted to look into better and worse time slots for busking around my day job (that I can’t psychologically stand to do for any more hours than at present, but doesn’t pay a living wage at those hours). Oxford being so tourist- and student-filled almost all the year round, it wasn’t obvious when would be better for getting more (hopefully) listeners and cash. The results need to be taken in context of Oxford, with less people and a lower average income than central London even if cost of living can be not dissimilar, but for the first chilly week of mid-September I was quite impressed. One hour mid-morning: £15 odd. One hour after I finish work (about 4:30 – 5:30): just over £20, despite having to settle for a less good spot (more buskers were out).

I’ll be repeating the exercise – not with desperate intent to try and bring in what I might get from two well-paid gigs a week, but as a compensation measure and because I equally don’t have to be prepared for an ordinary gig for three weeks, so I might as well busk and get money as practise with no very specific goal and not. Some things that have struck my attention:

  • Perseverance is the most important quality of the busker. Ideally, I would keep it up for more like an hour and a half at a time, with only enough time to stretch (maybe put more rosin on my bow once mid-set) between numbers.
  • An hour of completely solo with minimal breaks (no point talking between pieces!) is hard work, and surprisingly warm work even in an English autumn.
  • It’s very hard to predict what styles / songs will attract people’s attention (though The Wild Rover is the only guaranteed hit out of what I know or have tried so far). What gets people’s toes tapping oddly doesn’t necessarily correlate to what gets more coins in the fiddle case.
  • In general, foreign tourists and under-25s are more or less a financial dead loss for busking. The former just take photographs and the latter behave as if they had headphones on even when they don’t – closed in their own world as long as they’re on the street. I thought at first the elderly / retired were particularly likely to pay buskers, but now think it’s a pretty even spread among most other demographics.
  • In this age of non-interaction with strangers, it’s interesting how many people make eye contact with a busker and smile or nod to them. Of course, I’m trying to smile and make eye contact as that should up the number of people that feel moved to fork out some cash (stagecraft is always important, like it or not).
  • Amplification is surprisingly little necessary, though pedestrianised streets and the acoustics of high stone / concrete buildings fairly close together do make for unusually good conditions as present-day outdoor performance goes.

See you out the front sometime if you’re local …

Gearing up, gearing down

Posted on

Saturday saw the Filthy Spectacula venture into dark new territory – Birmingham …

cogs-performance

Courtesy of a very kind and generous invitation from Cogs Bar. You can’t see very much of the venue in these photos due to the cloud of darkness shed by Mr E, but it really is something special – even the light fittings have slowly-cranking gear-trains in them. They certainly don’t do things by halves, down to a steampunk-inflected cocktail list.

cogs-nameplate

They hadn’t done us by halves either, hiring us for a 90-minute set (one of our longest ever) and supplying a very high stage for myself and Lord Harold to dominate from, over the shoulders of Mr E prancing on a lower podium-cum-stub catwalk towards the audience.

Really there were just two things missing from this evening. One was the Dreadful Helmsman, condemned to stay in the southwest by some kind of complicated wheel trouble (should have taken the canal, there’s enough in Birmingham – and Bristol).

The other was you. Or more of you, anyway. That dance floor could have done with more drunken gyration, despite best efforts of Mr and Mrs Gregory ‘Fox Head’ O’Regan, Heather Henthorn and long-suffering driver husband, and the present band widows.

So next time we play there – and we will; December is in consideration for a return date – come down, join us, down a few Cthulus and see if you can get the bar girls to dance in their uniform top hats and goggles. In fact, even before then, just go there and check it out if you’re local. Well worth the trip.

Cogs may be building up their business, but this was the end of my busiest run of summer gigs (yes, I know it’s now mid-September and summer has definitely gone). Not that I’m getting time off, but activity slows through the next 6 weeks to more like a gig a weekend than 2 or 3, with Kindred Spirit bar gigs coming back to the fore and String Project rehearsals resuming. What will I do with myself? Well, come back to find out …

Full steam ahead

Posted on

In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s been a particularly busy summer for the Filthy Spectacula, and we’ve spent a lot of it (though very far from all) at steampunk conventions.

filth-steaminster-2016-1

Saturday’s wasn’t just new to us but a new event full stop: Steaminster, in the Wiltshire market town of Warminster. Previously, Warminster was only known to me from a classical freelance job playing a choral-orchestral concert in December. In the minster it was; warm it was not.

The major non-ecclesiastical performance venue of the town is a renovated Victorian music hall – a fitting space at least! And we had a great set of acts to follow on from (yes, we were headlining again, dahling; I mean really what did you expect?). I wouldn’t usually be too keen on sharing photos of other performers, but these are excellent and have been approved elsewhere by the acts in question, so take a look at Miss von Trapp and her electric cello – sorry, customised crossbow:

steaminster-2016-miss-von-trapp

I wouldn’t have dared not to sing along with her, even a repertoire of bloodthirsty reworkings of Victorian music hall ditties and the odd formerly-sentimental standard. Next up in musical running were the Wattingers, who seemingly never stood close enough together for anyone to get a photo with them both in:

The adjective ‘dirty’ is used too often in describing electric blues bands to have much meaning, but this harmonica and fuzz bass-fuelled high-concept supposed family band from Arkansas really did make even Howlin’ Wolf sound clean-cut (even when covering Howlin’ Wolf, alongside originals, a chain gang holler and a genuine spiritual chant collected by Alan Lomax). Spine-tingling stuff.

I would include photos of burlesque duo The Fanfare Follies here, who did sets between bands, but, well, my girlfriend reads this blog and so do my family sometimes. Well done ladies!

Our biggest fear was this was the first time we’d played to a genuinely seated audience. Would we be able to get them to engage? Would they stand up? Would they dance? We needn’t have worried. We can now say we’ve literally had ’em dancing in the aisles (well, there wasn’t much space anywhere else … a few came right down the front for the last number!).

Steaminster, your organisers may have been nervous but we had a great time. Glad to say we’ll be back for next year – get 2 September 2017 in your diaries now!

That almost concludes the run of summer events for both my bands. The Filthy Spectacula are returning to more permanent venues this weekend, with a trip northwards to Birmingham to play at Cogs Bar on Saturday, followed by more music video shooting and some actual rehearsals. I’ve got the first Kindred Spirit duo gig in what feels like forever on Friday, at familiar haunt the Hope in Richmond. Watch out for new pedal effects! The full band lineup will be staying active through the autumn too. See you somewhere soon …

Meet the new Boss

Posted on

FX unit closeup

Much bigger Boss than the old one too:

fuzz box

To come clean, the big unit isn’t technically mine. It belongs to Elaine of Kindred Spirit (who upgraded to something similar but more modern and colourful a while back). However, a single fuzz box wasn’t really cutting it for the prog aspect of Kindred Spirit’s identity – and said fuzz box started playing up last weekend. So I will be using the multi-effect unit for EQ, reverb, volume boost (when soloing) and assorted effects (at a minimum, overdrive, wah and some sort of flange / phaser / tremolo – haven’t quite decided what) at Kindred Spirit gigs – starting from Friday 9 September at the Hope in Richmond.

Of course, that means I have to get to grips with what all those pedals, knobs, dials, buttons and screens do and how to use them to get sounds that work (when processing an electric violin, not a guitar!). So here’s what I spent yesterday evening doing:

FX unit sceneFX unit notes

Now I just have to practise actually playing songs through and using it. I hope my neighbours and housemates are feeling patient (or deaf) this week!

Riot at the Asylum

Posted on

filth asylum 2016 1

The Filthy Spectacula played Weekend at the Asylum last year as a relatively unproven act headlining a relatively unproven concept, that of a roughshod rock-n-roll dancey music event within a steampunk convention.

Asylum remains, of course, the biggest steampunk event in the world. The new idea went down so well that the same concept was upgraded from a primary school hall to the Lincoln County Assembly Rooms, a US-based band flown in to take the second slot, and even in somewhere as big as this the whole thing was sold out weeks beforehand:

filth asylum 2016 2

Meanwhile the band have gained so much prominence in the last year that we still got asked to headline the upgraded event.

I’ve been known to be a little sniffy about steampunk crowds when playing with rock bands (‘dressing up for grown ups’; ‘lots of sitting down drinking tea in expensive costumes, not much dancing’). I have to take it all back for the Steerage Ball.

Opening act Captain of the Lost Waves proved you don’t need big beats and yelling to get a crowd engaged, attentive and participating, basing his act instead on surreal-science fiction storytelling, a troubadour roving performance style with bouzouki, ukelele and a headset mike letting him play and sing from anywhere (including, literally, the back row) and vocal acrobatics that could have got him into opera if he’d wanted. He’ll go far on the steampunk circuit.

Frenchy and the Punk really got the party going though. The two of them took a lot longer than the four of us to set up, and had a correspondingly massive sound, built up with two big percussion rigs (one of their numbers sounded like a samba band most of the way through), synth drum pad, vocal effects, guitar and loop station. The energy of their set was overwhelming and irresistible.

I’m not going to try and review our set (though it was another resounding success for the new electric violin – I think we just need a stooge in every sound check to stand in the middle of the room and prompt for me to be turned up above rhythm guitar … benefits of band wives that come to gigs). This was a fantastically responsive crowd though. We finally got we asked for with Drinkski Song – in fact got it about nine songs early, as highly skilled Cossack dancing kicked off in our opening number. Turns out the bloke is in fact Russian, and disarmingly modest about his abilities he was too. Through most of the set we had a pretty full dancefloor, and they even responded to between-song banter. Seems (some) steampunks can let their hair down after all.

The trick may be to have two evening music events to choose from – Newgate novel / penny dreadful or Henry James, depending on your preferred style of Victoriana. Asylum had done this on the same night, and Steampunk Wales did the same on consecutive nights a few weeks back. The Filthy Spectacula’s next outing, Steaminster this Saturday, aren’t running a big enough event to justify that, but looking at the line-up they seem to be running a tea and fabulousness daytime programme and an evening of debauchery. Spread the word steampunks – you can do dirty dancing in a corset or a silk waistcoat … especially to us!