youngraven: (sprig)
In theory, I'm supposed to be erasing Lucy Liu's cleavage from a poster that's to be printed tonight. Sure, it's to that depth which I've sunk. Ah, the cleverness of me. I've seen nothing of this poster yet, and I'm beginning to believe that somebody else got booked to work on it. Not that I'm complaining, really.

'Cos in the meanwhile (as I'm pissing the rest of my day away), it gives me a chance to write about the festival a mere day after it happened rather than two bloody months.

They gave us a set on the main stage this year at CHF (I should provide youse a link - remind me to do that, eh?), and I'm content to believe it's because we're that frigging grand. We filled it, so. And it all went well. The only sort of scary moments happened when Chris's concertina made some sort of odd feedback which sounded much like a jet was about to land upon us and smash us all flat.

We laughed it off. No rocks fell, nobody died. Ha. Which reminds me that I've said nothing of Tara Road. In which one rock did fall and it did hit me square on the head. But that's another story (never mind, anyway).

So...Saturday was grand...we did our bit for the cause, I didn't blurt out something eejity or stare off into space with that horrified expression I often get when I realise that I really should be Saying Something, yet I've Got Nothing. I do this to myself, you see, I'd got it in mind that I should be something other than the small and quirky one who's likely unhinged. The trouble is, when I try for anything else, I make a pig's breakfast of it. So...I suppose this is to tell my mates (who read here) that...you're stuck with the aforementioned description. Sort of thing.

Back me up, then? 'Cos...

Right. Blah blah blah. My head is...elsewhere.

So, Saturday...running jumping climbing trees. Caught you haha flag. That sort of thing, yeh. It went really well. Sure I've said that five times by now.

We played, and then had a bit of a seisiun, and then [livejournal.com profile] shaddowshoes and Casey played, and after that [livejournal.com profile] shaddowshoes and [livejournal.com profile] unclesiko and myself went off for Mexican and beer. See, there's no drink allowed at this particular festival, so by the end of it...right. Good craic, nonetheless.

Sunday also went well. We sold most of the past product that we'd brought, and got the card of a girl who'd missed out. She seemed very earnest that she be able to buy this particular one, so. She shall have it. You know, that's the thing about everything going well - I'm really tempted to leave it at that. It was grand. Hurrah. This is why I'm not a writer. Innit.

Well, cheers to everybody who came out. It really is a pleasant festival, and the rumour thus far has been that the closing numbers were good. So here's to its continuance.

Peace out, slán go foill, and eek a spider,
G.

Sprig sez

Jul. 27th, 2007 03:19 pm
youngraven: (sprig)
Nicked shamelessly from our man, Bob's, email announcement. No clever for me today.

Celtic Heritage Festival Benefit
Shamrock Irish Pub,
2710 West 7th Street, Fort Worth
Sunday, 29 July 4.00 pm - After 9.00pm

Appearing will be:
4.00 pm - Irish Rogues/Pub Sing Along
5.00 pm - Sally Huffman/Welsh Harp
6.00 pm - SPRIGGAN/We defy description - you'll have to come out and have a look at us to understand
7.00 pm - David Sparks and Ernie Taft/Irish Songs

Come out in support, youse.

Survival

Oct. 15th, 2006 08:48 pm
youngraven: (sprig)
Well, we made it thro' our Grand Return to Trinity Hall (sure, there's a story there but I'm not for telling it) and the Celtic Heritage Festival - despite that it was pissing with rain all day.

At the end of it all, I'm reasonably certain I've earnt the last bit of dosh towards my new bodhran - whenever that comes to light. I think my current one realises that she's about to be replaced - which would explain why I lost control of her at the end of Friday's last set. No, I didn't lob my tipper - I waited till today to manage that one.

At least it was spectacular.

At any rate, I'm completely fagged, and am thus inclined to babble, so don't expect any of this to make any sense. Ha. I can recall a time (almost) in which I coughed up journal entries for the benefit of myself alone...

So Friday proved a bit of a challenge, because I've been dubbed Office Lackey Extraordinaire. You know, I'm likely misusing the word 'lackey', but for the life of me I can't think of anything better, so you'll have to sort that one out on your own. What it all means is that I've given far too many logical answers to far too many questions that the askers could have worked out on their own. This has the nasty result of making one an Expert and thus in demand. Such was myself at Friday night - much to my chagrin. As I was frantically preparing to scarper for the pub, a woman phones me to ask me to sort out a complaint that she's got with our document management system. 'Cos I had a look on our web site and your name was given as my primary resource for this office.

'Oh, for fuck's sake,' sez I to myself.

I don't recall throwing my lot in for this particular task, and in fact, I think I was told I'd not have to sort out complaints of this nature. But what could I do? Tell her to eff off? Sure, perhaps I could have done. Argh. At any rate, because I'm desperate foolish, I solved her silly difficulty. Serves me right for being at sea as to what is actually on that web site.

So, erm....right - off to the pub. Our sound check was quick and reasonably uneventful. Since Chris plays everything but the found harmonium, our sound checks tend towards the lengthy. Not so Friday night. Of course, we could scarcely hear each other over the ambient roar (at Trinity, the importance is placed on the craic rather than the ceol), but no matter, as we'd expected that.

For all that the craic is revered, we had a really responsive crowd, and that's always grand. No-one could understand a word we said, but frankly, I'm used to that, so. At the end of the night, somebody had twisted a serviette into a rose and had left it in our tip jar. I've still got it in my bodhran case. It's fascinating. I've never seen that done before - well, not exactly that. I'm going to snap photos of it. Perhaps I can do something artistic with them.

Afterwards, we crawlled home. Literally. I had to slap myself a few times to stop me driving off the road.

On to Saturday. Have I got anything remarkable to say about Saturday? Erm...well, our stage had a sharp list to port, which challenged my vertigo to a duel. Oh, and I forgot the reprise to 'Wearing of the Green'. I don't know why, exactly. I'd wandered off in my head someplace. It happens.

Oh! There wasn't any haggis! I'd gone expecting haggis! So very sad. Yes, I'm fond of haggis, and no, it isn't because I feel the need to prove something to the rest of the world.

After our set, we lingered about for Paisley Close's set. Their stage presence is really killer, although how the lead singer could leap about on that stage without falling off her feet is astonishing. Me? I'd be arse over head - even reaching behind myself to fetch up my guitar proved a bit of a challenge.

[livejournal.com profile] shaddowshoes, myself, [livejournal.com profile] mishajames, and his fair cailin went for nosh after that, and then we crawlled home again. For a sober weekend, we did a great deal of crawlling.

Which brings us to today. It pissed with rain (I might have mentioned). [livejournal.com profile] toarthos might have caught his death of cold from playing a seisiun out in the rain (under cover, to be sure, but still in the elements). Our set went reasonably well - it was indoors on a level stage, so our crowd was good. Erm...it was recorded, so perhaps we'll find ourselves with a few usable tracks. I'd love to have a new demo now as opposed to when the CD is released.

Oh, and we've at last got to meet [livejournal.com profile] 0ccam and [livejournal.com profile] frostdancer.
youngraven: (sprig)
Argh. I typed 'shite' as 'shtie' - and then I tried to pronounce 'shtie'.

At any rate...for your reading pleasure, I present a recapitulation of the last two Spriggan announcements. Don't choke on them.

Part the First
If you find you can't wait till the Celtic Heritage Festival to get your Irish on, then fear not (and we mean that - we don't want to frighten or alarm anybody), Spriggan will be playing at Trinity Hall (the delightful Irish pub at Mockingbird Station - ride the rail, it's fun!) this very Friday night.

Yes. Friday, 13 October, from 8.30 pm till 12.30 am.
Trinity Hall Irish Pub - near to the Angelika Theatre at Mockingbird Station

Bring yourselves, a black cat to cross your path, a ladder to step under, and a bit of salt to toss over your shoulder and come out in support of your local Irish scene. For us, every day is St Pat's.

Part the Second
Ah, autumn...the leaves are falling, the days are growing shorter, and
it's still hot as the Inferno. Why is that, you ask? Because this is
Texas, that's why (check the map if you don't believe me - go on).

The good people behind the Celtic Heritage Festival have got a grand
idea as to what to do with the wealth of sunshine - come out and
frolic in it. Yes. we did say 'frolic', and we're not a bit ashamed of
having done. In fact, Spriggan will be frolicking at the Celtic
Heritage Festival. We'll also be playing there, lest you think we've
gone a bit mad.

So, here's the where and when:

Saturday, 13 October, 5.00 p.m. at the FWICA stage
Sunday, 14 October, 3.00 p.m. at the Leland stage

For the rest of the story, you'll have to click this link.

Peace out, slan go foill, and mind the gap.
G.

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