In the wonderfully BEAUTIFUL month of MAY
BETWEEN THE STRINGS | JOHN RENBOURN
In the wonderfully BEAUTIFUL month of MAY
Several years ago — it was in May — my old friend Duck Baker and I went over to Germany to play . Duck had persuaded me that it was a good idea on the grounds that he was well known and spoke the language like a native . In a way that was true . It turned out he was well known to an assortment of part-time barmen , and he did on occasion speak a bit like a native , but in a manner that appeared baffling to any of the natives of Germany . Despite that — or maybe because of that — we had some good times , and found out what a big country it is .
At some stage we wound up in a region that felt like one of the lost kingdoms . When we got to the old hall where we were due to play , waiting outside was a nervous-looking man clutching a guitar case . He wore a long coat that had seen better days and there was something of a manic air about him . As we were walking past , he clutched my arm and said to me , “ Guitar , guitar .”
At the sound check German efficiency was well-matched by the combined Renbourn-Baker inefficiency , and it all took rather a long time . I think it was still going on as the audience was drifting in . By then the man in the long coat had disappeared , and other than the token , “ Who was that weird guy ?” he wasn ’ t spared much thought . Anyway , we played , and afterwards a bunch of us were sitting around in the back room in the usual apres-concert sprawl . Eventually somebody said ,
66
| FALL 2023