Carrots and The Oscar Beetroot Band

It was always a feature of the Oscar Beetroot Band’s performances in the 1930’s that there would be no soloist, such prominence being unwelcome at a time when loud-mouthed demagogues were apt to assist a performance by hurling carrots at the stage. Why carrots? Nobody knows…

Of course the only people who remember the Oscar Beetroot Band are those who are blissfully ignorant of its possible fictionality, or maybe just blissfully ignorant. And Hortense, of course, but she is apt to remember things when she wasn’t there anyway. Just ask the Vicar.

No carrots to the noggin last Sunday… as carefree a jam as we can remember (well, that accounts for the last three weeks or so) and some relaxed, fine music making that occasionally sounded like we either knew what we were doing, didn’t care, or had drifted into the dangerous waters know as “jazz”. As ever, we can, and will, fix it, but in the meantime, props to the 25 or so musos, and an audience that never flagged.

Highlights of the week, for me, anyway, were undoubtedly Herbert (see below) and Bettina. The latter chanteuse fronted with some distinctly vague charts, and gave all the appearances of someone who was going to introduce “her” band, fiddle with everything and then sing imperfectly at several semitones removed from the charts, the band and commonsense. I could not be more wrong (again!) this one had me totally fooled, and she showed some real class with the bluesy numbers she selected. Don had a ball on keys, and not surprising.

Captain Chaos ran things so smoothly that he flirted with the idea of creating a mild bit of chaos for the helluvit, but restrained himself. Another first. All afternoon, we only had one changeover hitch and pretty much everyone got a fair bit of playing time.

So who was there, I hear you ask? I wrote it all down on a bit of paper, wrote down where I had left the bit of paper on another bit of paper, bought shares in the paper company and am now none the wiser. Ange sang, Katerina sang, the Divine Miss Smith gave me no grief, and sang also, Daniel impressed on the drums, as did Bill and Michael, Herbert and Fermin equally smooth on guitar, Lisette and Andi tried a banjo/ukele number which was fun, and Gentleman John C, meself and the Don amused ourselves at the ivories.

And through it all, Ivan swung hard on his electrified bass. Sweet! TW