Saturday, 19 July 2008

Why is it that, when things go wrong before a performance, it's often the thing that makes it!? I'm obviously speaking personally here...I don't know if it's like that for everyone (?)

I seem to work better on the back foot. I arrived at Full Sutton Prison last Monday feeling I knew just what to expect, and with a fair idea of what to play...but before I could lean on that old crutch I was met with the following sentence.

"Foy, I'm afraid the PA has blown, how do you feel about a quite set?" Said John (the ever helpful, who not only came in on his day off, but it was his birthday!)

Which meant playing anything with the loop station was out the window and that was the stuff they liked most.... In the end I was able to botch my gear through and old guitar amp, that at first sounded horrid, but then I realised if I changed the approach to it, I could make it sound alright... which meant rethinking the set, and playing everything with a quieter approach (because if I played to hard it was just distortion central)... but it was beautiful... it ended as it often does in requests. It's at time like this that I'm glad of my years slogging on the circuit; you end up knowing a lot of songs from all genres. Having said that, I generally worry that all these songs are taking up valuable hard drive space in my brain, because I tend not to forget a song when I learn it.... anyway, it bowed well at Full Sutton...

I was struck again this time by the 'city life' nature of all the prisons I went to. I know the idea is to rehabilitate the prisoners, and I know that's the intent of most of the people I met working with the prisons, but for a large part it seemed like everyone in there gets institutionalised. I don't know if that's down to the prison's approach or to the sorts of people that end up inside?

Either way, there they all are, getting on with day to day life seemingly unaware of a world outside at all. At the same time every day they get up, wash, eat, work, socialise etc which I know isn't that unlike the lemming mentality of the outside world, but we chose it, for them it's imposed. They have their pecking orders, their social status, their own set of morals and codes of conduct, it really is like another world. Which is why, I guess so many people keep returning, when their let out... I can imagine for a lot of people, it could end up a sort of strange comfort, compared the the reality of life on the outside. In there, they can be whoever they want. They're under no obligation to tell the truth about anything, or for that matter face up to anything they've done. What makes a person have a moral epiphany and face up to the reality of their crime irrespective of how that might make them feel? I'm pretty sure it's not putting them to bed at the same time every night, or getting them out of it at the same time every morning.

I am a tad quixotic, but nonetheless I suggest music as a means to helping them come to a place of understanding... needless to say, it's not gonna work for everyone, but....

In Wakefield, where the majority are sex offenders, a guy came up to me at the end of the show and thanked me as it was "the first time in 9 years, head been out of prison"... Some of you may be thinking, he got an undeserved treat, and you know what? You might be right! But taking myself as an example... I didn't learn music through a workshop, or from a music teacher of any sort that was paid to host the workshop or teach in the school... Not that I didn't learn from them at all, but I didn't learn half as much as I did, and still do, from listening freely to the sounds people make for the love of it! It's that element of music that can turn you life around... I'm sure that sounds twee or romantic bordering on quixotic... but that's pretty much what music did for me, and seeing, meeting and performing for these prisoners brings it back to me.....

New Hall women's prison was as interesting as it was the first time... a completely different experience altogether. One that that always shocks me, but not as much as it does at New Hall, is how sweet and innocent some of the prisoners look... there was one Asian girl in particular who looked about 14 (she was definitely older than that), and had the sweetest face and approach to conversation...very shy yet very interested... she looked well kept; a real 'Doctor's daughter who leads the Church Youth Group' sort of look about her. I find myself thinking about what people like her might be in for, not that it would do me any favours to find out, but it really is shocking when you see it up close!

The last gig was in Whitemoor prison, which aside from the town I stayed in, was an altogether great experience again. I really got the feeling that the guys were green for it... their barriers were down, they weren't being dictated to so they had no need for fronts... sometimes they keep their fronts for a bit, but after a few songs and bit of banter they drop their guards and let you play to them.... They come in, shouting requests, the Jamaican's shouting for Elephant Man and Reggie in general and the Irish shouting for Rebel songs and 20 minutes later this room full of hardened men, most of whom are in for murder, are sitting in absolute silence listening to Gabriel and the Vagabond, or 'you've got a friend' by Carol King or 'a case of you' by Joni Mitchell... they really soak it up... I guess my hope is that as the songs washed over them, they left a fragrant residue that won't wash off...

It may well be vain... 'still I can not help myself but hope'