Pulling off the main road and heading towards the Septembersong festival I wind down the windows and a cool light breeze replaces the recycled air inside my car. A friendly couple walking their dogs politely stop me pulling into their driveway and point me in the right direction for the festival site.
I’m driving down a windy country single lane at a snails pace when I pass a chap struggling with a large rucksack and guitar. I slow down and offer to carry his luggage for him – sadly I can’t offer him a lift as my car is at absolutely capacity – brimming with musical equipment following a busy week of workshops and gigs. But he chucks his bag in and we have a nice little chat, and I’m feeling happy as I may have made a lovely new friend in Louis Brennan.
The smiles continue when I arrive on site and I’m greeted by two of the most friendly ‘security guards’ you’ll ever meet. They’re expecting me, my names on the list and their instructions on where to park are surprisingly succinct for a festival.
You can drive right up to the main stage and unload, everyone is laid back and relaxed, you even get an unhurried soundcheck!
Immediately I’m struck by the sound of kids laughing, running, playing and the festival feels like a cool place to be.
Artist accomodation is within the beautiful “big house” on the Braziers estate. My single room has arched windows and a cupboard built into the wall. The WC and shower is shared and fellow musicians walk barefoot and sip drinks in the communal lounge.
I roll out my yoga mat and let myself stretch out. It feels good, like I’m slowly pulling each of the 100 miles I’ve travelled out of my hair, a sort of cleansing process and I’m ready to play…
As I struck up the open G chord of ‘Ingrid’s Stare’ the pitter patter of rainfall united us together inside the tent – audience and me, the songs and my singing. All of a sudden it’s all we had – the poor folks had nowhere else to turn! So they dug in, determined to carve out a good one.
Festival organizer Robin Bennett introduced me to the stage and I felt blessed and grateful to be there. I’ve long heard amazing things about Robin and Joe’s Wood Festival and was a fan of their band Goldrush too.
Danny Champ is our mutual friend and collaborator, and so meeting Robin and his brother Joe in person felt a bit like completing a circle.
I re-shaped up my current ‘Night Of Glass’ show for this festival slot, trimming the talk and moving some of the bouncier cards to the top of the deck. It felt good to bend the set around like this and there was a moment within ‘Rouse Ye Women’ when a few flying objects appeared to click into place and I felt a connection was made.
In general I find one-off gigs a bigger ask than a tour. There’s a momentum you build up playing consecutive nights that is a joy to behold, and I’ve been drinking so much caffeine lately I’m generally a bit jittery. But the people listen with intent, the tent holds out the rain as they sit in rows cross legged on the dry grass in front of the stage, with others standing at the back in silence. Nobody dances(!) but kind words are exchanged and positive energy is shared. I’m not sure what reaction to expect at my concerts, I’m aware I play some reflective songs and that stirs things up for people. I just share what I’ve prepared and listen in to the audience’s energy and try to respond as best as I can.
About two hours after the performance I’m staring in silence into an open fire and I realize the adrenaline has seeped away. Time to slope back down the hill to the house and get some kip.
In the morning I’m surprised to find myself fired up and at ‘em! By 6am my toes are cold as the dog of winter rubs her nose into my soles.
I stare out of the window for a bit and write this poem:
I see the light in you
A misty grey sky hangs low over the deep green trees
A single garden chair remembers
Everyone who’s sat with them before
And With Weathered wood and well trained ears says
I see the light in you
I take this as a positive sign, my inner child is up for a bit of songwriting today and I venture back on site to set up for the morning songwriting workshop with Katie. “Song Fishin” is its name and it’s all about casting one’s net into the stream of consciousness that flows around us. Using games such as random book, random page and melody anagram we take our inner artist on a fishing expedition, searching for the most exotic and interesting ideas we can find.
The group are generous and willing, we engage our diaphragms and open our hearts.
A new anthem for the festival is born and A girl who introduces herself as ‘Ghostie Spider’ dances as we Sing
It’s never easy saying goodbye to summer but this festival certainly eases the pain….
Dan x
