How to be a Folksinger #2

or How to Sing and Present Folk Songs, or The Folksinger's Guide, or Eggs I Have Laid, by Hermes Nye

Feb 17, 2023

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That’s enough of that, let’s resume matters with Hermes Nye.

Chapter 2: Six Strings and a Hole in the Center

Let's have a read of chapter two of this. It seems to cover the purchase of essential equipment for the folk musician. Other than maybe (but not always - unaccompanied singers, I see and appreciate you) a guitar and a pressing desire to sing about death, I'm not sure what else you need, but Hermes pads it out to 14 pages nevertheless.

(If you missed Chapter 1, you can find it here.)

Ever the classicist, Hermes is straight in with the Shakespeare, dispensing useful information for the medieval horse-riding folkie:

"Shakespeare put it pretty well when he said 'costly thy habit as thy purse can buy' (The habit was evidently a small lute of the period, suitable for serenades on horseback)."

Several pages outlining the different types of guitar end with this questionable advice. (I had look up meerschaum - it's a clay pipe). The point about not being easily dissuaded remains true today:

"Ideally your best course is to rent a guitar or borrow one from a friend for a few weeks. Generally this is hard to do; it is somewhat like borrowing a toothbrush or your uncle's favourite meerschaum. But if you are going to be easily discouraged, you're whipped as a folksinger anyway."

I can say from painful personal experience that the following statement is 100% correct:

"Never try to refinish your own guitar. This is a job solely for the expert. Get a good guitar or violin shop to do it for you."

Nye's thoughts on twelve string guitars are included just for his turn of phrase:

"The twelve string is not for amateurs or for those with small or weak fingers, but if you want to make a lot of noise and really snow the peasants at the next hoot, you can get one. It sure does drown out conversation."

("Snowing the peasants" is pretty much the stated aim of The Gally Canters, as the noisy inattentive bar is our venue of choice. Although we will look on festival bookings with considerable favour.)

Skipping over some slightly er… “old fashioned” discussion of women and their underwear, we are on to the essential part of any folk concert, the tuning:

"If Menuhin can even-out that Strad after every number, it isn't going to be infra dog for you, with your Arkansas Steinway. So that you will always have your instrument tuned to a constant pitch, you should carry around either a grand piano or a guitar pitch pipe for all six strings."

Hermes now allows consideration of other folk instruments. My Irish banjo playing friends might want to look away now. Harsh words incoming:

"The four string banjo is looked upon with benign disdain, and ranks no higher as a folk status symbol that the ocarina or the uke."

Time for cellists to avert their gaze:

"John Jacob Niles used to manufacture his own dulcimers by sawing old cellos in two lengthwise and building from there. I do not recommend this unless (a) they are your own cellos and (b) afterward you know what to do with the pieces."

(I'm intrigued as to Niles' methods as I have an old unrepairable student cello that would be ideal for this brutal repurposing. However, I am firmly lacking in part (b), unless the Niles method is documented somewhere.)

After a passing mention of zithers, autoharps and harmonicas, we have detailed construction details for a washtub bass. To get the full account (I know you’re itching to get started) scroll to the bottom of this page:

"....you might consider the washtub bass. This was originally an African signal drum-in it's primitive form a hole in the ground with a skin stretched over it-which made up in volume what it lacked in portability."

In the next part, Hermes goes far, far into the deep end. Good luck turning up to a session with a kazoo. You'd better be bloody good at it, is all I would suggest. As far as the trumpoo goes, well, caveat emptor:

Serious discussion of the kazoo, and its descendants the trumpoo or kazumpet, as folk instruments.

The bottom of the washtub is being scraped. Remember this is the 1960s. And the "and bongos seldom are" is a fine example of Nye's seemingly habitual deprecating asides:

"Another folk instrument enjoying great vogue is the bongo drum. If used with discretion, and bongos seldom are, they round out a hootenanny orchestration very nicely..."

The final suggested folk instrument is the jug and bottle. Again, precise instructions are given for the preparation for your DIY orchestra:

"Many years ago a group known as the Mound City Blue Blowers achieved fame for their jug and bottle work..."

If you want to get a flavour of the Mound City Blue Blowers, here they are. No jugs or bottles in evidence, but someone seems to be playing a small tin of varnish. Don't try this at home:

That's it for chapter two. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Stay tuned for Chapter 3. Subscribe to my Twitter account to read along with me in real time.

Full chapter PDF follows the break. Again, excuse the poor quality scan, it’s a fragile old paperback and I’m trying not to break the spine.

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