Are you ‘acoustic’ or ‘folk’? Because it matters. Let me explain.
When I first arrived in the UK and started to perform, I started off with a Google search of the open mic nights for Manchester. What turned up was a listing by Tom Kerswill who happens to know just about everybody in this city. Very nice guy. Super connected. Does sound for just about everybody in the folk-roots scene, too. Or, I should say, the acoustic scene. Now you might be wondering: folk…acoustic…what’s the difference?
It took several months to hook up with an American songwriter who has become a close friend and compadre of mine, also a band member when I play with a band. Zoe Mulford informed me of a magazine called Folk Northwest which lists, for three months in advance, the folk clubs in the Northwest region of the UK. It wasn’t until we met and then attended a few of these ‘singers nights’ that I discovered that folk clubs and singers’ nights within the context of folk clubs are not created equally.
(This is scratching the surface, so bear in mind: I may add to this post, or just keep adding new posts that further elaborate on this.)
There are established folk clubs that have been running for, oh, just 45 years or so. I’m serious. 30 or 40 years. The last one I had the occasion to do a ‘floor spot’ for, or essentially three songs before the showcasing guest artist, was in the Southwest and it had been in operation for 45 years under different leadership. These kinds of folk clubs differ based upon history and culture of the organizers and communities themselves, but by and large are more geared to old timey music or traditional English music, truly, or something that will please an older audience: the last audience was comprised of individuals averaging somewhere between 55 and 70 in age. There were younger folks, but not too many. Ani Difranco would not fare well in such a folk club, though I chose my songs carefully and geared them towards the audience, and things went fine. That’s the key, in all situations: play to your audience, of course.
Then there are clubs like the Chorlton Folk Club based right in the heart of Manchester’s southern community Chorlton. That’s a folk club that meets weekly on a Thursday night, for a pound entrance fee, and it’s just two songs a night all night long for everyone who shows up to sing, read or recite a poem, bash on a guitar, sing Johnny Cash from way back, hang hair down and squeal in the most strange but intriguing way (like Martin Sexsmith, only not as good). Bookings are sporadic there, and unannounced to the eclectic crowd that come to hear themselves sing. (Apparently, the turnout is lower for guest artists. So, this promoter’s strategy is simply not to tell his regulars, but to surprise them! How’s that for marketing?) It’s a wonderful crowd of regulars and some-timers that come in through the doors of the local cricket club, come up the stairs, find a table, go back down to the pub where the regulars simply shoot the breeze all night long, never mind the music. Once the music starts at 9 PM, this is a listening audience that will applaud anything and anyone brave enough to get up. This is community support at its best. Really full of heart. It can be a good way to gain exposure, and for sure you’ll find some people are professionally working at this. You have to come regularly to get the true essence of what this kind of folk club can do for you.
There’ll be an intermission between each performer for a few moments, so the audience can gab, but once the artist is introduced, you’re to shut your mouth and listen. Sometimes a local promoter from elsewhere will come scouting. Sometimes there’ll be an anniversary potluck to celebrate the club’s existence. Sometimes it’ll be the same ol’ same ol’, but you’ll love it because these people become friends and outside of the context of the folk club, some of these friends are actively working the market in the area and beyond. Seem familiar?
Many, if not most, folk clubs have regular ‘staffers’ who man the doors, sell raffle tickets for that bottle of wine or box of chocolates. Gifting a CD can be a good publicity stunt, and it’s always appreciated.
Some folk clubs won’t book you if you’re not on the A-circuit, and I have yet to find out what that means, except you need to have a long and proven track record of playing venues that pay in the UK. Sometimes having experience elsewhere means diddley squat. Sometimes, as one promoter said to me, it’s a boon to the promoter because it appears the event/club is capable of drawing ‘international acts’. Indeed.
Nevertheless, most folk clubs make you feel so at home, you just feel like you’ve known the organizers for years. Or you want to. The Sale Folk Club is especially run according to these ‘rules’, by the nicest people who pride themselves on their hospitality. Sale specifically prints off the ‘minutes’ of each Tuesday night singaround (literally, ten or fifteen artists/acts in the room take a turn at a song, though I was granted a bit of extra floor space as a ‘guest artist’ the night I went). So, those on the mailing list will learn of you. Nice touch.
In Stalybridge, on the edge of the Pennines, Acoustic Eclectic is another one of these run by the nicest people – Jon Orpheus, his wife and friends – booked six months in advance also, and always a great time. What strikes me about this venue/event and these promoters is that they put on a weekly show, include floor spots for those who want to play and truly love what they’re doing. They pay a small fee to the booked performer, and you LOVE playing for them, because they love you. It can’t get any better than that. Oh, but it does. Sometimes, they throw up all weekend long showcases in outdoor tents! Lovely. Always well publicized, too. Venues like this are a good place to hang out because you’re likely to meet every professional and up-and-coming artist in the area, if you stick around long enough; it’s a good way to build new alliances.
Some folk clubs like Dukinfield’s Acoustic Collective run by longstanding regular performers like Ann English are booked up to six or nine months in advance, and the folks running it are involved in radio, print magazines, folk festivals. You never know who you’ll meet, so treat all folk club management with the greatest of respect, and win them over. Then thank them afterwards!!! It’s a small touch that surely goes a long way.
Folk and Roots is another good source for folk clubs.
Then you have the pubs that promote acoustic open mic nights like The Trof in Manchester. These are good to cut your teeth on, and you’ll typically get three songs and a chance to perform often in front of a university audience, if in a large city, or the locals. Promoters might ask you to play for free to do an opening act performance for a touring act. You’ll have to work to get an entire night where you can actually charge a door charge. Try frequenting hot little music collectives, like the Undergrowth Collective or Hobopop Collective in Manchester, which essentially are groups of bands and artists who have figured out that it’s easier to go farther together. In fact, create your own collective and consider doing something a colleague and I never got around to: “Womenfolk Invasions”, as an example.
Liverpool has its own very ‘happening’ scene, and Liverpool Acoustic Live has one of the hottest things going, run by the wonderful Graham Holland of It’s a Frog’s Life Acoustic Podcast and his cohort Stuart Todd. It was in Liverpool that I felt I had come across an edge and professionalism in music that presented more diversity than I’d been accustomed to hearing in the Manchester (thus far). Maybe it has to do with the fact that the Liverpool Institute for Performing Arts (LIPA) is pumping out some stellar talent. I don’t know. Something is in the frog’s waters over there. Liverpool could be a very good place to start. It’s smaller than London and Manchester, but seems to have a big heart and some very exciting things going on underneath the skin.
London’s Green Note Cafe in the heart of Camden Town (a twist on the famed ‘Blue Note’) has to be one of the coolest places to play, offering all kinds of delectables on a Sunday afternoon while you’re waiting your turn to play at the open mic, a pre-requisite for getting a band spot on a Sunday mid-session (which is paid for by the tip jar, walked around by staff after the set). If you impress them enough, you’ll be entitled one day, one dayyyyyyyy to a proper showcase evening. And then what will you do? Bring an opening act, or something. The Green Note doesn’t open until 1 PM sharp. The long-timers show up late but waltz up to the front of the line the minute the door opens, and they’re put on the list early, if not first. But you accept that. You accept that because it’s the coolest place to play in London, or it seems to be. The pillows on the benches and the packed in crowd which forces turnaways and the nachos and yummy drinks and views of the soundwoman knitting and yawning between sets, but loving the music, add up to the best fun ever. This is what you’re aiming for. Hang out, if you’re in London. Be aware of the very big flyer with musicians booked months in advance. Great keepsake. Great reading.
Finally, you can try to apply to the festivals, but as always, you need to be on this by applying the month after they’ve wrapped up the last festival. fRoots Magazine online has a good folk fest listing as does SpiralEarth Magazine online. There are over 300 festivals in the UK, and I have had luck approaching many with a pitch to the effect of “I’m here for the next short while…any chance of a last minute booking?” Even with a proper press kit, it’s not the best way to go about it, but such an approach with a friendly, professional attitude will get you into some fests. I was booked into one of the UK’s best world music festivals, Musicport, last year but consider it a stroke of luck. Plan in advance.
Phew. So, chew on that.
Tip No. 3 is this: Know your niche when pitching yourself to promoters, and adapt like a true professional.
Now, get out there and play. JFDI.