The 50s/60s Folk at the BBC

GUITAR FOLK MUSIC

# John Henry when he was a baby

# Sitting down on his mammy's knee

# Picked up a hammer in his little right hand

# And said hammer's gonna be the death of me

# Hammer'll be the death of me

# Hammer'll be the death of me, Lord

# Hammer'll be the death of me

# Well, the captain he said to John Henry

# I'm gonna bring that steam drill around

# I'm gonna bring that steam drill out on this job

# I'm gonna whup that steel on down

# I'm gonna whup that steel on down. #

INSTRUMENTAL

I'm going to sing The San Francisco Bay Blues.

This song was written by my friend Jesse Fuller, the Lone Cat.

Jesse was a one-man band, that's why he called himself The Lone Cat.

He worked on the railroad back in Georgia.

Sang a lot of blues and railroad work songs.

He wrote this song - San Francisco Bay Blues.

# Got the blues from my baby left me by the San Francisco Bay

# Ocean liner she gone so far away

# Didn't mean to treat her so bad

# The best girl I ever have had

# She said goodbye

# She like to make me cry

# I want to lay down and die

# Haven't got a nickel Ain't got a lousy dime

# She don't come back I think I'm going to lose my mind

# If she ever comes back to stay

# Spend another brand-new day

# Walking with my baby down by the San Francisco Bay

INSTRUMENTAL

# Live a while in another city

# Just about to go insane

# Sound like I heard my baby The way she used to call my name

# If she ever comes back to stay

# Spend another brand-new day

# Walking with my baby

# Talking with my baby

# Riding, gliding, driving

# Jiving, talking with my baby

# Down by the San Fran...

# Frisco Bay. #

'The merry month of May.

'To mark the start of the Festival of Britain, Mining Review with Coal Magazine

'is sponsoring a contest to find our lesser-known miners' songs.'

# As me and me marra was gannin' to wark

# We met wi' the devil, it was in the dark

# I up wi' me pick, it was in the neet

# And knocked off his horns, likewise his club feet...! #

Most miners, Geordies particularly,

will know that song that Roland Robson is singing.

Its name is The Collier's Rant and it's what we call a folk song.

At one time, there were a lot of these songs in the coalfields.

Few of them ever got written down and now many are dying out.

Many miners still know them and are perhaps making them up.

The kind of songs I have in mind are about a miner's work or his home life, his pastimes

or about mine disasters or strikes or trade-union struggles.

We want to collect them before they disappear, so we're having a competition.

If you know any coalfield songs, please send them to me.

My name is AL Lloyd.

You'll find full particulars in the May issue of Coal magazine.

We hope to bring you some of the best of these songs in future editions of Mining Review.

# As me and me marra was loadin' the tram

# The light it blew oot and me marra went wrang

# How wad ye ha' laughed if you'd seen the fine gam -

# Old Nick took me marra then I took the tram!

# Follow the horses Johnny me laddie!

# Follow them through me canny lad o

# Follow the horses Johnny me laddie

# Hey, lad, lie away, canny lad o. #

# And 'twas in... #

HE COUGHS

Are you sure?

-It's a funny time of day to sing.

-It is, isn't it?

Oh, my goodness, out comes the hip flask.

SHE LAUGHS

This will either make it better or worse!

It's purely medicinal.

SHE LAUGHS

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

Right.

TUNING FORK PINGS

# And 'twas in...

# 'Twas in the pleasant month of May

# In the springtime of the year

# And down by yonder meadow

# There runs a river clear

# See how the little fishes

# How they do sport and play

# Causing many a lad and many a lass to go there a-making hay

# 'Twas in the pleasant month of May

# In the springtime of the year

# And down by yonder meadow there runs a river clear

# See how the little fishes

# How they do sport and play

# Causing many a lad and many a lass to go there a-making hay

# Then in comes the scytheman that meadow to mow down

# With his old leather-ed bottle and the ale that runs so brown

# There's many a stout and a labouring man comes there his skill to try

# He works, he mows, he sweats and he blows

# And the grass cuts very dry

# Then in comes both Tom and Dick with their pitchforks and their rakes

# And likewise black-eyed Susan the hay all for to make

# There's a sweet, sweet, sweet and a jug, jug, jug

# How the harmless birds did sing

# From the morning till the evening as we were a-haymaking

# It was just at one evening as the sun was a-going down

# We saw the jolly piper come a-strolling through the town

# There he pulled out his tapering pipes

# And he made the valleys ring

# So we all put down our rakes and forks and we left off haymaking

# We call-ed for a dance and we tripp-ed it along

# We danced all round the haycocks till the rising of the sun

# When the sun did shine such a glorious light

# And the harmless birds did sing

# Each lad he took his lass in hand and went back to his haymaking. #

THEY LAUGH

It's a work song again.

A gang of hard-working men.

Actually must have been hammering spikes or something on the Rock Island Line.

# Oh, the Rock Island Line it is a mighty good road

# The Rock Island Line it is the road to ride

# Oh, the Rock Island Line it is a mighty good road

# Well, if you want to ride, you got to ride it like you find it

# Get your ticket at the station for the Rock Island Line... #

You have to spit out the words.

Don't be afraid. The person in front of you is facing in the other direction.

If you want to ride, you got to ride it like you find it

Get your ticket at the station for the Rock Island Line.

Want to try it? Try it.

# If you want to ride, you got to ride it like you find it

# Get your ticket at the station for the Rock Island Line... #

Try it again.

# If you want to ride, you got to ride it like you find it

# Get your ticket at the station for the Rock Island Line

# I may be right and I may be wrong

# I know you're gonna miss me when I'm gone

# The Rock Island Line it is a mighty good road

# The Rock Island Line is the road to ride

# The Rock Island Line it is a mighty good road

# Well, if you want to ride, you got to ride it like you find it

# Get your ticket at the station for the Rock Island Line

INSTRUMENTAL

# A B C, W X Y Z

# Cat's in the corner But he don't see me

# Oh, the Rock Island Line it is a mighty good road

# The Rock Island Line it is the road to ride

# The Rock Island Line it is a mighty good road

# Well, if you want to ride, you got to ride it like you find it

# Get your ticket at the station for the Rock Island Line

INSTRUMENTAL

# Jesus died to save our sin

# Glory to God, we're gonna need Him again

# Oh, the Rock Island Line it is a mighty good road

# The Rock Island Line it is the road to ride

# The Rock Island Line it is a mighty good road

# Well, if you want to ride, you got to ride it like you find it

# Get your ticket at the station for the Rock Island Line. #

APPLAUSE

< So, tell me about this song.

It's called Country Blues and it was originally a man's song.

About a man who dissipates his whole life and ends up,

"You'll be sorry when I'm dead," one of those.

I changed it into a woman's song because it happened to women too.

I changed just maybe one or two of the little words in it.

Sex equality, you know.

Country Blues.

SHE PLAYS INTRO

SHE HUMS MELODY

# Now, come all you good, kind people

# While I've got money to spend

# Tomorrow may be Monday

# And I'll neither have a dollar nor a friend

# Now, when I had plenty of money, good people

# My friends were all standing around

# But as soon as my pocketbook is empty

# Not a friend on earth could be found

# My papa told me a-plenty, kind people

# My mama told me more

# Said, "Honey, if you don't quit your ramblin' ways

# "Find trouble at your door."

# Oh, if I had listened to my mama, good people

# I would not have been here today

# But drinking and rambling and gambling

# At home I could not stay

# All around this old jailhouse you see me, good people

# 40 dollars won't pay my fine

# Those men have ruined my body

# Corn liquor has ruined my mind

# Dig a hole, dig a hole in the meadow, kind people

# Dig it deep in the cold, cold ground

# Come gather around all you nice friends

# See a poor honey go down

# And when I'm dead and buried

# My pale face turned to the sun

# Will you stand around and mourn, little lover

# And think of the harm you have done? #

That's just one way of singing The Country Blues.

# One morning when I went to work the sight was most exciting

# I heard a noise and looked around and who do you think was fighting?

# I stood amazed and at 'em gazed, to see 'em in such rages

# For I never saw a row like that between the Brockwil Cages

# Wor aud Cage says, "Come o'er the gates, because it's my intention

# "To let thee see whether you or me is the best invention"

# The new'un being raised, took off his clais

# And at it they went dabbin'

# The blood was running doon the skeets and past the weighman's cabin

# The patent to wor aud Cage says, "Although I be a stranger

# "I can work as well as thee and free the men from danger"

# "For if the rope should break with me, aud skinny jaws, just watch us

# "You'll see me clag onto the skeets, for I'm full of springs and catches"

# The brakesman brought them both to bank, the mischief for to settle

# They fought from five o'clock to six, and the patent won the battle

# It took the brakesman half a shift to clag 'em up with plasters

# Wor aud Cage sent his notice in, just to vex the maisters. #

# Oh, the cuckoo is a pretty bird and it sings as it flies

# It'll bring us glad tidings It'll tell us no lies

# Sips the dew in the morning To keep its voice clear

# And the clearer its singing, so the summer draws near

# A-walking and a-talking and a-walking went she

# For to meet her own true love beside yonder tree

# For meeting is a pleasure, and parting a grief

# And a false-hearted lover is worse than a thief

# For a thief he will rob you of all that you have

# But a false-hearted lover will lead you to your grave

# And the grave it will rot you and turn you to dust

# There's not one man in twenty that a woman can trust

# For they'll tell you that they love you and they'll always be true

# But the very next morning they'll bid you adieu

# Oh, the heart's not a plaything and the heart's not a toy

# If you want your heart broken, give it to a boy

# Oh, the cuckoo is a pretty bird, it sings as it flies

# It'll bring us glad tidings, it'll tell us no lies

# Sips the dew in the morning for to keep its voice clear

# And the clearer its singing, so the summer draws near. #

# In fair London town a young damsel did dwell

# Her wit and her beauty none could her excel

# Her wit and her beauty none could her excel

# And her husband he was a bold drover

# Fel-der-el-eer-a-lie-day

# A groggy old tailor he liv-ed close by

# And all on this fair damsel he cast a sly eye

# Ten guineas I'll give if I can with you lay

# For your husband he is a bold drover

# Fel-der-el-eer-a-lie-day

# The bargain was made and upstairs went straight'way

# They hopped into bed, soon the moon it did play

# They huddled, they cuddled, they both fell asleep

# And they never once thought of the drover

# Fel-der-el-eer-a-lie-day

# In the middle of the night, the old drover came home

# He knocked at the door with the palm of his hand

# Oh, hide me, oh, hide me, old tailor he cried

# For I heard the loud knock of the drover

# Fel-der-el-eer-a-lie-day

# There's a rustic old cupboard hangs over the door

# Where you can get in so snug and secure

# I will go down and I'll undo the door

# And I'll let in my husband the drover

# Fel-der-el-eer-a-lie-day

# She undone the door and her husband walked in

# With a kiss and a conference she welcomed him in

# Your kiss and your conference I don't give a pin

# I will strike up a light said the drover

# Fel-der-el-eer-a-lie-day

# Oh, husband, dear husband, there's no fire stuff

# If you come to bed, you'll be quite warm enough

# That rustic old cupboard hangs over the door

# And this night I will burn said the drover

# Fel-der-el-eer-a-lie-day

# He knocked this old cupboard went down on the floor

# He kicked it, he knocked it well all o'er and o'er

# Heels over lugs and right out of the door

# And away run the groggy old tailor

# Fel-der-el-eer-a-lie-day. #

OK. English gypsy song...

originally from Levi Smith, who's from the Kent area.

Georgie.

# Once I had such a good little boy

# A pretty boy quick as any

# He would run five miles in one half an hour

# A letter to pardon my Georgie

# For what has Georgie done on Shooter's Hill?

# Was it stealing or murder of any?

# Oh, he stole sixteen of the Lord Judge's deer

# And we sold them down under the valley

# Oh, saddle 'em up cries my lily-white breast

# Oh, saddle me up cries my pony

# With bright guns in his hand and a sword at his side

# Would you spare me the life of my Georgie?

# And Georgie's the father that six babes love

# There's a seventh one into my body

# But it's willing to part with all I have got

# If you'll spare me the life of my Georgie

# And George shall be hanged in the frames of gold

# For the frames of gold you won't find many

# But it's willing to part with all I have got

# If you'll spare me the life of my Georgie

# For what has Georgie done on Shooter's Hill?

# Was it stealing or murder of any?

# Oh, he stole sixteen of the Lord Judge's deer

# And we sold them down under the valley

# Wish you was stalled all in the grove

# All in the grove standing ready

# With bright guns in your hand and a sword at your side

# I'd fight you for the life of my Georgie

# Once I had such a good little boy

# A pretty boy quick as any

# He would run five miles in one half an hour

# A letter to pardon my Georgie. #

INSTRUMENTAL

We've had complaints that we haven't shown you Robin Hall and Jimmie MacGregor.

We now rectify the error.

HE PLAYS INTRO ON GUITAR

# Oh, me name is Mick Macguire and I'll quickly tell to you

# Of a girl that I admired for her Katy Donahue

# She was fair and fat and forty and believe me when I say

# That whenever I come in at the door you can hear her mammy say

# Johnny, get up from the fire, get up and give your man a seat

# Can't you see it's Mick Macguire and he's courting your sister Kate?

# Sure, you know very well he owns a farm a wee bit out of the town

# Arragh, get out of that, you impudent brat and let Mr Macguire sit down

# Now the first time that I met her was at the dance at Tarmagee

# And I very kindly asked her would she dance a step with me

# Then I asked if I could see her home, if she'd be going me way

# And whenever I come in at the door you could hear her auld one say

# Johnny, get up from the fire, get up and give your man a seat

# Can't you see it's Mick Macguire and he's courting your sister Kate?

# Sure, you know very well he owns a farm a wee bit out of the town

# Arragh, get out of that, you impudent brat and let Mr Macguire sit down

# Oh, but now that we are married, sure her mammy's changed her mind

# Because I spent the legacy her father left behind

# Now she hasn't got the decency to give me time of day

# And whenever I come in at the door you can hear the auld one say

# Johnny, come up to the fire, come up, you're sitting in a draft

# Can't you see it's auld Macguire? Ah, he nearly drives me daft

# Sure, I don't know what gets in him, he's always on the tear

# Arragh, just sit where you are and never you dare give auld Macguire the chair

# Diddle e dowdle-owdle-owdle Diddle e dowdle-owdle-do

# Diddle e dowdle-owdle-owdle Diddle e dowdle-owdle-do

# Sure, I don't know what gets in him, he's always on the tear

# Arragh, just sit where you are and never you dare give auld Macguire the chair. #

-And now it's time to introduce the

-King

-of

-Skiffle

-himself -

-Lonnie

-Donegan!

# When you play the game of life, you've got trouble, you've got strife

# Jack of diamonds is a hard card to find

# Life is like a game of cards but it's very, very hard

# Jack of diamonds is a hard card to find

# Jack of diamonds Jack of diamonds

# Diamonds is a hard card to find

# Jack of diamonds Jack of diamonds

# Diamonds is a hard card to find

# Met a girl and lost my heart lack of money made us part

# Jack of diamonds is a hard card to find

# She said life is just a bet but I've never won it yet

# Jack of diamonds is a hard card to find. #

PIANO STRINGS CLANG

CACOPHONY OF PIANO STRINGS

Laurie, come along!

'Civilised man has always craved some sweet-sounding instrument

'so that might make music and be glad.'

SPANISH GUITAR MUSIC

'Today his fancy turns to something he can hang easily around his neck.'

SPANISH GUITAR MUSIC CONTINUES

MUSIC OBSCURES AUDIO

'Today, let us have things portable, replaceable, fragile,

'and if possible, not too quiet.'

# You ain't nothin' but a hound dog

# Cryin' all the time

# You ain't nothin' but a hound dog

# Cryin' all the time

# Well, you ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine

# Well, they said you was high-class

# Well, that was just a lie

# Yeah, they said you was high-class

# Well, that was just a lie

# Well, you ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine

# You ain't nothin' but a hound dog

# Cryin' all the time... #

'If he can do it, I can do it too.'

HE SINGS ALONG AND PLAYS BADLY

'It is, of course, by no means essential to be a hound dog.'

SPANISH GUITAR MUSIC

That's fine. It's just a question of position.

-You have a rather common habit of leaning too much to the left.

-Yes.

You've probably seen a lot of people playing like this.

You see? What is important here, for everybody,

is the question of the distribution of power around the guitar.

Not just the correctness for its own sake.

HE PLAYS GENTLY

'The teacher, Mr Williams, is a dedicated man.

'His method is strict. He stands no nonsense.'

Yes, that's very good. Don't hurry from one phrase to another.

You see, you did this.

HE IMITATES PUPIL

You see? Too quickly. A little more relaxed.

HE PLAYS MORE SLOWLY

You see? Just take it easy.

Let's see what Mr Russell does with that.

HE PLAYS BADLY

Now, just a moment, Mr Russell.

But it's far too fast.

You must keep down to your technical level.

In any event, from a musical point of view it's absolutely criminal.

'Mr Skinner, too, is dedicated.

'An old banjo man, Mr Skinner,

'who knew what it was to play with Troise and his Mandoliers.

'Now he teaches in schools... and other institutions.'

GATE SLAMS

KEY TURNS IN LOCK

Once more. After 1, 2, 3, 4, 1.

1, 2...

MANY GUITARISTS PLAY "Tom Dooley"

'Mr Skinner also takes an evening class for the London County Council.

'The guitar takes its place beside commercial art and dressmaking.'

THEY PLAY: When The Saints Go Marching In

It's lifeless. I mean, just fancy a good tune like that. You know.

Fancy you're on the march. Left, right, left, right.

You've just filled yourself up with ginger pop. You're off for another 10 mile stretch.

That's how you want to play it. As though you meant it.

Like an army band, a guards' band. Think if that was coming out on the trombone.

HE IMITATES A TROMBONE

Now that's what we want to get here.

Just once more. After 1, 2, 3, 4, 1.

THEY PLAY

Come on, let's hear you!

'Pale hands I loved beside the Shalimar.

'The maiden's prayer. The songs that Auntie played are ghostly now.

'Today youth finds its own particular magic.'

GUITARIST PLAYS: Cry Me A River

'A summer's day. An English park.'

# C'est une chanson

# Qui nous ressemble

# Toi qui m'aimais

# Et je t'aimais

# La-la-la-la... #

'This is Miss Dundas, A great-grand-daughter of Lord Napier,

'educated at Cheltenham Ladies' College.'

# Mais la vie c'est pas

# Ceux qui s'aiment

# Tout doucement

# Sans faire de bruit

# Et la mer efface sur le sable

# Les pas des amants desunis. #

'Some like it hot. And some prefer a martial sound.

'But where are the recorders? Where the battered cornets?

'Where the concertinas? Where are the tambourines of yesteryear?'

# Never fades the name of Jesus

# Nor is dimmed by passing time

# Jesus' name is everlasting

# For its meaning is sublime

# Jesus' name brings joy and gladness

# Daily sending forth new life

# In His name there's power to gather

# Souls of men from ways of strife

# How I love the name of Jesus!

# He has set my heart aflame

# I have found a great salvation

# Through the merits of His name. #

GUITAR CHORDS

'For the most part, of course, the guitar in England is a secular instrument.

'And it should be noted that the Englishman takes his guitar very seriously indeed.'

GUITAR TUNES UP

Give me a chord of G. Just G.

HE PLAYS G CHORD

GUITAR TUNES UP

Oh.

Beg your pardon.

Nine.

-Nine?

-Yeah, nine.

How many others you doing?

'The classical approach. From beat music to concert platform.'

TUNES UP

'A rock 'n' roll guitarist can be turned out in 12 hours flat.

'The classical player must devote at least 12 solid years to patient study.

'You pays your money and you takes your pick.'

ROCK 'N' ROLL MUSIC

HE PLAYS A SOLO

MUSIC CONTINUES

CHEERING

< Hello, Mum!

HE PLAYS CLASSICAL MUSIC

'And so, sweet or hot, Spanish style or skiffle,

'the voice of the guitar is loud in the land.'

HARMONICA PLAYS

# Tom Joad got loose from McAlester Pen

# It's there that he got parole

# After four long years on a man-killing charge

# Tom Joad came walking down the road

# Tom Joad he met a truck-driving man

# It's there that he got him a ride

# He says, "I just got loose from McAlester Pen

# "On a charge called homicide."

# Well that truck drove away in a cloud of dust

# And Tom turned his face towards home

# And he met Preacher Casey and they had a little drink

# But they found that his family they were gone

# Oh, they found his mother's old-fashioned shoe

# Found his daddy's hat

# And they found little Muley and Muley says,

# "They've been tractored out by the cats."

# Tom Joad walked down to his neighbour's farm

# He found his family

# And they took Preacher Casey and they loaded in a car

# And his mother says, "We've got to get away."

# Well, the twelve of the Joads made a mighty heavy load

# But Grandfather Joad did cry

# And he picked up a handful of land in his hand

# Said, "I'm stayin' with the farm till I die."

# They fed him short ribs and coffee and soothing syrup

# But Grandfather Joad did die

# They buried Grandfather Joad by the side of the road

# And Grandma on the California side

# Oh, they stood on a mountain and they looked to the West

# And it looked like the promised land

# That bright green valley with a river running through

# There was work for every single hand, they thought

# There was work for every single hand

HE PLAYS THE HARMONICA

# Well, the Joads drove away to a jungle camp

# It's there that they cooked up a stew

# And the hungry little kids from the jungle camp said,

# "We'd like to have some too."

# The Deputy Sheriff fired loose at a man

# He shot a woman in the back

# Before he could take his aim again

# Preacher Casey dropped him in his tracks

# They handcuffed Casey and they took him to jail

# But then he got away

# And he met Tom Joad by the old river bridge

# And these few words he did say -

# "I have preached for the Lord a very long time

# "I've preached about the rich and the poor

# "Us workin' folks had better get together

# "For we haven't got a chance any more."

# Well, the Deputies came and Tom and Casey ran

# To the bridge where the river ran down

# But the vigilante thugs hit Casey with a club

# They laid Preacher Casey on the ground

# Tom Joad he grabbed that Deputy's club

# And he hit him over the head

# Tom Joad took flight in the dark rainy night

# A Deputy and a Preacher lying dead

# Well, Tom ran back where his mother was asleep

# He woke her up out of bed

# And he says goodbye to the mother that he loved

# He said what Preacher Casey said -

# "Everybody might be just one big soul

# "It looks that way to me

# "Wherever you look in the day or night

# "That's where I'm going to be

# "Wherever little children are hungry and cry

# "Wherever people aren't free

# "Wherever folks are fighting for their rights

# "That's where I'm going to be." #

HE PLAYS THE HARMONICA

ONE PERSON APPLAUDS

Miles away, but had something, maybe.

The Tonight cameras have been roving the country in search of new material.

One of the places we found this was Newquay in Cornwall.

Some of the people who live there are unpopular with their neighbours,

and don't think much of the place themselves.

Listen to this and you'll see what I mean.

GUITAR INTRO

# Come you ladies and you gentlemen, listen to my song

# Sing it to you right but you may think it's wrong

# Want to hear more then listen to me

# It's all about the troubles in old Newquay

# Because it's hard times in Newquay if you've got long hair

# Well, you move in to old Newquay

# Then you pitch your tent down by the sea

# Along come the law and they move you away

# Say the urban district council don't want you to stay

# Cos it's hard times in Newquay if you've got long hair

# Well, you smarten up and you put on some shoes

# Try to get a job to drive away the blues

# But everywhere you go they stand and stare

# Can't employ you cos you've got long hair

# Well, it's hard times in Newquay if you've got long hair

# Well, if you take a little drink it ain't no sin

# But there ain't a pub in Newquay that will let me in

# I searched the campus for a place to eat

# But we can't serve you cos you're a Beat

# Well it's hard times in Newquay if you've got long hair. #

Yes, hard times in Newquay it seems for the few remaining beatniks

still holding out in this Cornish stronghold

against a very determined urban district council,

which has taken some unusual steps to drive out its long-haired visitors.

'At the height of the season there were 40 or 50 beatniks here in this north Cornish resort.

'Say to one to every one thousand of Newquay's swollen summer population.

'But even this small figure was far too many for the short-haired burghers of Newquay.

'The council wrote official letters to all the shopkeepers, cafes and bars,

'urging that they refuse to serve beatniks.

'And at the same time wrote to the hotels association

'suggesting that beatniks be given no employment, not even as washer-uppers.'

Why is your council giving these beatniks such a hard time?

The trouble started last summer when the first invasion of these types came along.

Perhaps one didn't so much object to their eccentricities of dress,

or even long hair.

But when it came to just forgetting to wash

and becoming gradually dirtier and dirtier,

eventually becoming filthy and finally stinking,

it was more than we could stand.

How many complaints have you had from tourists about beatniks?

Quite frankly, not a great number.

Quite a small number, I would say.

So it is mainly the shopkeepers who are complaining?

It is the people who run this town, who live in this town, who work in this town

and whose livelihood entirely is bound up with the tourist industry.

Among your other duties, you're the Council Treasurer.

What has Newquay lost or suffered by the arrival of these beatniks?

I'd say nothing, at the moment.

But our fear is that if we become noted as a beatnik resort, we shall suffer seriously in the future.

This conspiracy of shopkeepers, cafe proprietors and inn-keepers

to boycott a certain group of people, certain members of the public,

do you think this could stand any close legal examination?

Difficult to say. Probably not.

But it's wrong to assume because something's on sale in a shop window

you're bound to sell it to the person who comes in.

HE PLAYS GUITAR INTRO

# One old councillor in this town

# Keeps on telling them stories about me

# I wish to the Lord that councillor would die

# Keeps on telling them stories about me

# Oh babe, it ain't so

# Oh babe, it ain't so

# Oh honey, I thought you'd know

# Just that I'm having to live mighty low. #

What action do you take when any of these beatniks come into your pub here?

I look them over and if I think they're very dirty, I ask them to leave.

Do you have to do that very often?

I've done it a couple of dozen times since I've been here, I suppose.

It's just the dirtiness. You don't object to the length of their hair?

No. A man's got a right to grow his hair to any length, or his beard.

But I think he owes it to society to keep himself clean.

We heard that some of them had been employed in some of the hotels,

in the kitchens, washing up.

A job which is very difficult to obtain labour for.

People often ask me personally if we've got any in our kitchen

doing any washing up or coming in contact with any food.

And if so, they would have left immediately.

If they're not working in hotels and are just wandering the streets,

-they still offend you?

-Oh, definitely.

-Why?

-Because they're so... It's their dirty appearance.

It's absolutely against the general normal appearance of Newquay,

which is quite a clean resort.

To have these filthy things walking about the streets is most objectionable.

-What is your name?

-Sue.

-Sue.

-Paddy.

-Paddy.

-Eric.

-Eric.

I see. Eric, one of the complaints the council make against beatniks

is that you don't wash, that you're rather dirty.

Is this a valid complaint?

-No, I don't think so.

-It isn't?

-No.

How about yourself? Do you wash very much yourself?

Fairly frequently, yes.

-How often?

-Once every 2 days at least.

Do you? Your friends tell me they can't remember when you washed.

That's just they don't see me.

We can't even wash our hands. The first two days we couldn't find a place to wash our hands.

The tap's about 300 yards up a hill.

The people don't like us going and getting water from there.

We have to wash in the Gannel, which isn't very pleasant.

-That's the river?

-Mm.

What is your attitude to the other holidaymakers here?

I think they're all a bit silly.

They walk about with these terrible-looking clothes, like long polythene macs

and terrible, funny old straw hats and shorts and plimsolls.

They look at us and they scream out with laughter.

We don't go along the road screaming with laughter at them.

It makes us ever so cross. They swear and shout things.

It gets on your nerves in the end, because, well, you know...

Do you think it's a good life being a beatnik?

-Yes, it's an excellent life.

-Why, what makes you say that?

Well, you have the freedom. A certain amount of freedom.

You can do what you like. I can leave here tonight.

I can travel to Penzance, Land's End or anywhere I like.

I'm told you've got to leave here tonight.

Only this part. They can't make us leave the town completely.

The milder thing to be said about beatniks is that you are exhibitionists.

That's what people think.

They come up to you and say, "Look, you're going around in mobs."

I say to them, "You're going around in mobs. Yours is a bigger mob."

-They think we're doing it to be noticed.

-Aren't you?

-No.

What are you doing it for?

All I'm doing is doing what I want to do.

I'm only interested in playing the guitar and travelling.

If I like growing long hair, I enjoy it. It's easy.

You don't have to shave.

I enjoy doing it. All my clothes I make or people give me.

I can live very cheaply on the money I earn by playing.

How has this organised disapproval of beatniks affected you?

It hasn't affected me. Well, it has, but not very much.

I'm still here, as you can see,

because I can make a living by playing at barbecues, etc.

It's affected me as far as going to shops. I can't get a drink.

To get a drink I have to hitch-hike 20 miles out of town.

I went round every pub in town on Saturday and didn't get one drink.

I can't get a cup of tea anywhere because I'm supposedly a beatnik.

Well, there we leave Sue, Paddy and Eric,

who are apparently ever so cross down in Newquay in Cornwall.

HE PLAYS THE HARMONICA

# Oh, my name it ain't nothin'

# My age it means less

# The country I come from

# Is called the Midwest

# I was taught and brought up there

# The laws to abide

# And that the land that I live in

# Has God on its side

HE PLAYS THE HARMONICA

# Oh, the history books tell it

# They tell it so well

# The cavalries charged

# The Indians fell

# The cavalries charged

# The Indians died

# Oh, the country was young

# With God on its side

HE PLAYS THE HARMONICA

# The Spanish-American War's had its day

# And the Civil War too was soon laid away

# And the names of the heroes

# I was made to memorize

# With guns in their hands

# And God on their side. #

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