Diary of a Spooky Man - Part 7
by Robbie Mills
I have a bone to pick with you Brits. How can you possibly be the source of some of the greatest creative minds, scientists, and architectural wonders, and still not figure out how to design a normal shower? In fact you don’t even have to design it, because every other country in the world figured it out decades ago. In the last week I have been left bamboozled by 7 different designs, of which zero made sense. One had about 4 different levers and dials, none of which changed the temperature. One was a box on the wall with an “on” button. Why. Another was a golden idol on a plinth, that when removed released a giant boulder that chased me from the house. I would have dearly hoped that in the process of invading half the world someone would have glanced inside one of the bathrooms and been inspired, but alas.
Day 23 - Malmesbury
Having escaped the boulder the Spooky Men arrived in the town of Malmesbury, childhood home of our own Chris Samuel. Our venue was the Malmesbury Abbey, which used to have the tallest spire in the United Kingdom before Margaret Thatcher herself knocked it down (or so one of the locals told me). After a visit to the local cakery we dropped in for the sound-check. Only half the Abbey was left after the collapse, but that half appeared to inherit all the acoustics. With our usual sound tech Robin still sick, Sutherland did a magnificent job of filling his boots and helping us create a beautiful noise.
The gig itself rolled around, and it was an absolute banger. We took full advantage of the beautiful space and performed several songs in a slew of different man-arrangements, scattered around the abbey in trios and quadros, mixing the parts together. It was an absolute treat to sing as we rarely get the opportunity to meld voices alongside our counterparts, and new flavours of blending were discovered and enjoyed. Combined with an amazing energy throughout the gig, and the god-rays shining through the enormous windows, this was a real highlight of the tour so far. We then got lost on the way to the Travelodge, but made up for it with a gentle whiskey club upon the eventual arrival.
Day 24 - Cardiff
Cardiff is an absolutely beautiful city, but unfortunately a bit difficult to properly explore upon arrival as the streets were absolutely jam-packed. When I approached a ramen restaurant to sample some traditional Welsh cuisine, I was told they were completely booked out due to a massive performance happening that evening. I was feeling pretty special for a while until I realised it was David Byrne, not the Spooky Men’s Chorale.
A short while later, the people in Cardiff who couldn’t afford David Byrne tickets made their way to the Dara Stoutzker Hall to begrudgingly receive our dulcet tones. I must say that Cardiff had some of the best laughs I’ve ever heard. Some proper Disney’s Goofy stuff. The Spooks also had a serious case of the giggles as we continued to botch various choreography. We ended up in a recurring loop of the crowd laughing at us laughing which just made us laugh more. Needless to say the Spookmeister was not overly impressed, which also happened to give us the giggles.
Day 25 - Canon Frome Court
The early afternoon saw us making a pit stop in the town of Monmouth. We had a couple of hours to do our own thing, so I went for a solo wander. I glanced at a castle, stopped by The Green Dragon for the only brew for the brave and true, and had a bit of a whittle under a tree overlooking the junction of the River Wye and River Monnow.
We were all very excited to then begin journeying towards Canon Frome Court, a farming cooperative and intentional community in the Herefordshire countryside. It turns out they had read my previous blog, with special attention to the heartbreaking story of there being one-too-few scones. We arrived to a veritiable shitlo*d of scones, jammed and creamed to within an inch of their lives. I had about 17.
We did our best to repay the unparalleled hospitality and generosity favour of the CFC community with an absolutely ripsnorting gig. Our Assistant Musical Director Nick Macken wisely learned from the previous nights of choreographical shemozzlification, and put a bullet in the sick dog that was Adrian Mealing’s sign-holding. With that taken care of we were unstoppable.
There’s something special about singing for and with such a tightly-knit community. It’s a feeling of comfort and freedom that can’t be manufactured, and from that comes a warmth and connection that takes everything beyond the performance itself. By the end we were all down on the floor with the audience, singing and dancing together. Post-gig there were a couple of kegs cracked open for the Spooks, so we generously emptied them. This was fortunately followed by a day off.
We enjoyed two nights at Canon Frome Court - a rare occurence on tour. The community was unbelievably generous, feeding and beering us with voracity. I am unfortunately unable to avail you of the details of the workshop held on the second evening as I accidentally slept through it, but I am told it was delightful.
A massive thank you once again to the CFC family, and everyone who came to this amazing string of gigs. Lots of love to all the readers, and we still have a couple of tickets remaining for London!
Kisses,
Robbie Mills.
