This Yarn is set in the Mid 1970’s on the Grand Old Southern Shore. Most of my Newfoundland stories are from before 1980 when I shipped out to join the Service.

Back before P.A. systems became developed enough to understand what the singers were singing, the cheaper ones which seemed to be the offer of the day were not very good. Anyhow I filled in for a year as a drummer. Never confessed to being a real one, but filled in until the real one returned.

One thing I have learned about musicians is most are perfectionists and know a song well before they start playing. Not so much with our main man, who I choose to call Lester. He knew only titles of songs and over-confidently refused to learn any lyrics. Just mumbled his way through a set. He was popular at the time and knew the titles to lots of good dancing songs. We mostly played for dances and, in fairness, a lot of people out for a Saturday Night for a few dances and libations do not listen closely to the words, or the lack thereof. Just a lot of mumbling and distortion from holding the mic too close to his mouth.

When we played for a wedding, the old Hank Snow song ‘She Wears My Ring’ would be played for the Bride and Groom’s first dance. How many times can one repeat “she wears my ring
“ in a three-minute song?

The set list looked impressive because our fearless lead singer knew so many song titles. Ronnie Milsap was popular then and a woman requested ‘Day Dreams About Night Things’. No problem, here is three minutes of repeating that title.

On the positive side the musicians got to be a bit more creative with adding nice guitar solos – usually longer ones to try and compensate for lack of words. Some of the young fellas from home starting following us around to hear those new takes on the wordless songs. Most of us in the band knew all the lyrics to all the songs, but the elephant in the room was never addressed because the singer had that Irish charm and knew how to draw a crowd.

I suppose because public announcements could be made from the stage, the stage took on the role of lost and found and telling people by licence plate number to turn off their headlights.
One old man at a wedding misplaced his eyeglasses. Not to worry, someone turned them in to the stage. Our singer Lester says, ”Hey, those are Buddy Holly glasses!” So he starts wearing them. The old man finally feels his poor old way up to the stage to announce he lost his glasses. The chat went something like this; “I lost me glasses. Hey! You are wearing them.” “Sorry Sir, here’s your spectacles back.” Just a normal night in ‘75.

Another time Lester the Singer got a new pair of jeans with a cuff on the bottom turned up about six inches too long. Smoking was still permitted in bars then and our Cool Lester liked to have a drag or two while he was repeating the title of a ballad. The brand on his smoke dropped off and ended up in the cuff of his new jeans and set them on fire. Finished out the rest of the gig with one pant leg shorter than the other.

Sometimes if the rum was taking hold, an old love song would cause our man to burst into tears. So, you can see it was more than talent that drew a crowd. We were a first responder’s nightmare on a normal Night. I hated playing Sunday nights. Always small crowds and with school the next day it was a hard go.

Playing in a band for a year was a real treat. You could play music and get paid for it. One thing though is I hear from people who are still playing gigs is the pay never increased, which is too bad. These days you have to be really good to survive. My intention to tell this story was mostly to chat about the old days and no harm was meant to the Singer who studied titles. Last I heard he was busking out in Vancouver. Apart from the singing he could pick up just about any instrument and play a song. So, no slacker in the talent area. God willing maybe our paths shall meet again some day.

See Ya!