Blogs
AmeriCymru: Hi Ian and many thanks for agreeing to this interview. What are the plans for the NAFOW Eisteddfod this year?
' SWITCH' - The brand new single by Welsh singer-songwriter SERA (Sera Zyborska).Once again working with acclaimed producer Andi Crutwell-Jones, plus the notable contribution of Nico CJ on violin and Len Whitehead on Electric guitar makes a full-sounding, statement of a song that again blends all SERA's favourite parts of Americana, folk and pop with her storytelling and folklore album theme.
'SWITCH' is a bolt out of the dark, a harsh awakening. Empowerment.
Her album songs are all drawn from folklore and SWITCH is no different, drawing inspiration from Steam-punk, Frankenstein and the 'Freak Lab-accident' trope of the comic superhero.
SERA's music is rooted in folk, Americana, singer-songwriter, with this track taking a further leap into energetic pop.
Praise for 'Switch'
'Switch' has been recently added to BBC Radio Wales A-List Playlist.
'Switch is full of dark magic, bold and energetic, Bewitching and full of surprises'
- Voidd Music Blog
SERA 'When I Wake Up' Album The brand new album by SERA is out on CD July 31st (pre-orders from July 17th) and on digital and streaming platforms from August 14th. The album is a collection of 11 tracks, all inspired by folklore. This album takes a little bit of folk, Americana, singer-songwriter and pop and mixes it in a musical cauldron!
Physical Copies of 'When I Wake Up' (Available 31st July)
https://sera-songs.bandcamp.
'When I Wake Up' Released Digitally on 14th August.
Virtual Album Launch Party: 14th August Facebook LIve
https://www.facebook.com/
SERA BIO
A pianist, guitar player and a singer-songwriter, SERA (Sera Zyborska) has been writing, recording and performing in both English and Welsh for a while. Over the last couple of years, SERA has spent time in the studio working and writing with producer Andi Crutwell-Jones, looking at the real stories she wanted to tell with a sound that matched her ambition. The result is a collection of songs inspired by anxiety, love, nostalgia, ancestry, witches, ships and lost worlds. It's all there.
Having grown up in Caernarfon, North Wales, a place steeped in history, culture, between the Snowdonia Mountains and the Irish sea, you could understand her love of folklore and how landscape is a big source of inspiration behind her music.
SERA was selected as a BBC Horizons artist for 2019-2020, and played a live session in the legendary BBC Maida Vale Studios . SERA is also a part of new Americana band TAPESTRI with Lowri Evans and folk duo EVE & SERA with Eve Goodman. She has a band in Cardiff as well as a function band in North Wales called SUSPECTS
'SERA is clearly proven to be a sheer multi-talent with her new upcoming release.
With a clever Welsh hook and angelic voice combined to give a sing-and-dance-along musical audacity to every chord progression' – Jammerzine
'....distinctive and powerful' - Folk Radio
'SERA has been weaving together stories with an Americana rootsy twang which has so far earned her comparisons to Amanda Palmer and Joni Mitchell'. - PRS for Music
"Sera Owen is a singer-songwriter from Caernarfon, now living in Cardiff. A recent recipient of a Lyndsey Du Paul PRS for Music prize for emerging women songwriters. She writes and performs in both English and Welsh. Her last album, ‘Little Girl,’ which had Americana and folk influences, received praise from BBC 6 Music – “A beautiful gem of a song” (Chris Hawkins) and Folk Radio UK, among many – “A thoroughly absorbing journey from start to finish.” - Festival No 6
Sera Website: https://www.
Twitter: https://twitter.com/
Facebook: https://www.
Instagram: https://www.
Spotify: https://open.spotify.
Please keep your distance
I don’t want to catch anything from you
and I'm sure you feel the same way
staying indoors like a rained-off
summer holiday but this time
with endless advice on
how to fill our days as if
we can't be trusted to function
outside the tethered thinking
of workplace diktats
I tell you how I will spend my time
I will memorise the confusion
incompetence and untruths
that have led to this moment
while I fashion my response
among the sawdust of my lockdown lock-up
I will weaponise a disarticulated
wooden garden chair leg
convert it into a crude war club
a coup stick for future skirmishes
over toilet paper and chocolate digestives
sand it a little
scrape a chisel along its length
adorn it with smart black Gorilla tape
and a libation of teak oil
a camouflaged and concealed weapon
that still looks like a chair leg
as that was what it was made to be
ordinary domestic now deadly
like any household object
I choose it because its shape presents
itself to me from among
the other fractured wood
the flotsam of my materialism
because I assess that I might need it
to defend myself in the resistance
against the unelected
super rich rulers of the world
the "supremacists"
the dark money and dirty companies
Tony Kendrew is a poet of Welsh ancestry who has made his home in Northern California. In 2014 he completed an MA in Creative Writing at the University of Wales, Trinity St. David, the third oldest institute of higher education in Britain - after Oxford and Cambridge. He continues his connection with Wales as one of the editors of The Lampeter Review. AmeriCymru spoke to Tony about his work and future plans. Visit Tony Kendrew's website here
...
Tony: My mother was Welsh and went to China as a teacher in her late twenties. There she met and married my English father. So not only did I have to figure out where I came from, but my options were on the other side of the world!
The themes of movement and identity have concerned me all my life, and my year at the University of Wales, Trinity Saint David, brought them into focus like never before. So I decided to write as my MA dissertation a series of poems that reflect on the urge to migrate and explore, how that urge was expressed in my own family and life, and how it relates to a sense of place and belonging. There are twenty-two poems, and they take two directions, one towards the history of the Welsh side of my family, arranged chronologically, the other towards the nature of nationality and diaspora in general.
A number of poems tell the stories of particular members of the Welsh side of my family, trying to capture some of the characteristics of Welshness with illustrations of the delights and tragedies of family and emigration. I also touch on the influence of my cultural and genetic heritage on my own life and work.
And though the Welsh word hiraeth does not appear in these English language poems, we could say that the collection is really an exploration of hiraeth in poetic form.
AmeriCymru: Your earlier collection, Feathers Scattered in the Wind draws together reflections on the people and places of Northern California and Wales. Care to introduce that book for our readers?
Tony: I would love to. I’ve been living in Northern California since the 80's. Each time I moved it was to a more remote and beautiful place, until fifteen years ago I found the valley I now call home. All of the places I lived inspired what I suppose we could call nature poetry, though the poems aren’t just descriptive, because I always seem to find a human story hidden in the rivers and forests and deserts. And I don’t mean that my poems tell the story of the people living in those places, but that the places themselves give rise to reflections about what it is to be human. We have been living on earth for a very long time, and I think the landscape is intimately connected with our thoughts and feelings. To give an obvious example, the river: constant but changeable, deep or bickering, “wider than a mile,” you can’t push it, and of course “you can’t step into the same river twice.” And it isn’t just landscape either: sudden encounters with plants and wildlife bring insights of their own. Our minds have been sculpted by nature.
About half the poems in 'Feathers Scattered in the Wind' were written in California. The other half come from Wales. They were my responses to my year living and learning and rambling in West Wales, on the Coastal Path, in the ruins of Strata Florida or the beaches of Ceredigion.
I am, I suppose most interested in the communication of awe. The collection has a number of poems that try to communicate that response to beauty and the ineffable, whether it’s nature, or the effect of a painting on the viewer or a piece of music on the listener.
AmeriCymru: What can you tell us about your experience studying Creative Writing at the University of Wales?
Tony: Well, it was a wonderful experience! I fell into it by a stroke of serendipity, and knew immediately that the teaching style and the faculty at Trinity Saint David, Lampeter, were going to suit me just fine. The personal attention and intimacy of this small school made me feel cared for, and the sessions with poet Menna Elfyn and dramatist Dic Edwards, and regular visits from Wales’ best writers, meant that everything I wrote went under the microscope. Just what I needed! It was a lot of work, but that‘s exactly what I was there for.
AmeriCymru: Care to tell us a little about 'Seven Views of the South Fork River’?
Tony: The South Fork of the Trinity River runs past the bottom of my property and has been my muse for the last fifteen years. It’s designation as a wild and scenic river means it goes up when it rains and goes down when it doesn’t – something that dams and reservoirs have hidden from the experience of a large part of the population. It is an awesome sight to watch the river rise and spread out across the valley. Some years ago I decided to sing the river’s praises with a group of poems describing places along its course. This became 'Seven Views of the South Fork River', which is embedded in the printed collection 'Feathers Scattered in the Wind'. The poems talk about the river in a blatantly metaphorical way!
AmeriCymru: What's next for Tony Kendrew?
Tony: I am currently on the editorial board of The Lampeter Review, the online magazine of the University of Wales Trinity St. David's Creative Writing Centre. It’s terrific to be at the receiving end of great writing and to be in touch with the other editors on the production of the magazine. I also write a regular piece for the magazine, a sort of letter from America, that gives a personal view of the issue’s theme or a literary topic that’s caught my eye.
I have enjoyed producing CDs of my poems and love to hear writers reading their work, but many people prefer to snuggle down with a book rather than hear poems and prose read out loud. So my next project is a book of short stories.
AmeriCymru: Any final message for the readers and members of Americymru?
Tony: I’m delighted to be able to meet with other Welsh Americans via Americymru. As a writer I’ve been a bit of a hermit, so it’s heartening to see these connections being made through that difficult to define something that is our shared Welshness. Cymru am Byth.
Dai Commando looked just like any normal person.
Average height, average weight even average shoe size.
But underneath he was no ordinary G.I. Joe.
You would never hear it from Dai’s own lips, but the regulars in his local public house in Dowlais- the T.A.’s (The Tredegar Arms) would tell you- whilst he may have served in the Royal Marines – ‘He was Made in Merthyr’.
Mainly because he was conceived on top of a wheelie bin behind Wetherspoon’s in Post Office Lane.
Dai Commando turned his I-pad on ready for his 11.00am Zoom Meeting.
It was top secret and confidential stuff.
Punctually was Dai’s middle name and he hated people who were late even more than he hated foreigners- and that was saying something.
After inputting his own version of the Enigma Code into the Apple device, he promptly ate the piece of paper that contained the sequence.
Up on the split screen appeared three men, two of which most people would recognise from television and the other as anonymous as an alcoholic deed poll clerk.
“Good Morning Mr Perkins!” said the figure on the left of the screen.
Dai’s commando training noticed that the background behind this man was very bland indeed.
Magnolia walls and no discernible trace details of the location.
The middle man had a mop of unkempt blonde hair and appeared a little of out his comfort zone.
He was sitting on a green leather bench reminiscent of those that MP’S sit on in the House of Commons in Parliament and immediately sticking out from underneath him was a thick document marked ‘Russian Report’.
The third individual had bulging eyes and looked like a human version of a frog.
Behind the human Freddo was a huge bookcase with an array of books thereon with Mein Kampf, Der Fatherland, Uncle Tom’s Cabin and the Al Jolson Story clearly visible.
“For the purpose of this interview, please refer to us from left to Far Right as Philby, Boris & McLean!” continued the Oxbridge voice.
“So, Mr Perkins…. if that is indeed your real name…the big question is why do you want to register as a spy with MI5?”
Dai Commando had wanted to be a spy his entire life.
Now in one 30-minute interview, he had to justify exactly why that was to people far less qualified than himself.
None of these three had ever waterboarded a prisoner- none of these three had killed a man with his bare hands -nor spent an Arabian night sleeping inside the rotting carcass of a dead camel.
“My name is not important, I just want the opportunity to continue the excitement of foreign travel and the kind of freedom of movement that has been curtailed following the EU withdrawal bill and not to have a 14 day quarantine period just like Pa Churchill…. I want the ‘buzz’ of the chase- but more importantly I want to be licensed to kill like the Russians over Litvinenko or any member of the Saudi Consulate in Istanbul!” said Dai.
Boris interrupted.
“I get aroused by foxhunting too but may I suggest the DWP rather than MI5 if you really want a licence to kill a much greater number?”
“Austerity can only last for so long, before the general public rumble you-I want the adrenaline rush of defending these shores from Foreign influence and carry a knife in London without being stopped and searched every ten minutes!” replied Dai.
“Are you prepared to place a limpet mine on the bottom of a refugee boat in the middle of the English Channel?” asked McLean.
“What again?” replied Dai.
“Do you want me to beat the ‘Living Daylights’ out of George Galloway too?”
“Sounds like my kind of man…your hired… let’s all meet down the Saracen’s Head for a pint then!” said McLean.
“Not so fast…I have a few questions before you begin Putin Britain First!” said Philby with a Freudian slip.
“Why are you dressed as a Babushka woman from the Motherland ?” he continued.
“I am incognito!” replied Dai.
“Great- he can speak French too, pub it is then!” said McLean licking his frog-spawn like lips.
“Whoa, hold your chevaux-what experience had you had in such stealth matters?” asked Philby of the Babushka.
“I served in the Special Boat Service, did two tours of duty in Iraq- I am pictured on the internet- in disguise of course- helping the locals pull down the statue of an evil man with a rope - !” replied Dai.
“In Baghdad?” asked Boris.
“Bristol!” replied Dai.
“I served in Afghanistan too- where I had my leg blown off by an IED-!” said Dai lifting his long hippy skirt to reveal a metal leg and curved Oscar Pistorius scimitar foot and a fine pair of bollocks too.
Dai Commando alright.
The reaction on Boris’s face was priceless, as he recoiled in horror.
“Don’t let this little thing put you off hiring me- this is like a Swiss Army blade and contains a bag of killing tools that Villanelle in Killing Eve would die for!” said Dai Commando.
“See this sonic screwdriver attachment…I once killed a man with it on the Jeffrey Epstein’s ‘Lolita Express’ private jet and then used this handy Dyson attachment to ‘hoover’ up his remains before dropping them Mid-Atlantic into the sea!” boasted Dai Commando looking like a QVC salesperson.
“How did you get on that plane?” Asked Boris....I heard it was reserved for Royalty and had a 14 year old waiting list?”
“The Old Boy Network of course!” replied Dai.
“It was full of shady characters that you expect to see as Bond Villains in Spectre…there was definitely more than an Oddjob or two going on by the cabin crew- ‘bobbing for diamonds’ – after all they do say diamonds ARE forever!”
“I really miss the other Old Boy Network!” sighed Boris.
“But now I have a new born one- year old gargantuan baby and a puppy to support- handy for the election photographs but hard work for Nanny Carrie ever since!”
“Times are hard, with half the Country unemployed after the Pandemic and Brexit fiascos, I can’t even afford to re-join the Bullingdon Club and burn £50.00 notes in front of the homeless anymore on my ‘chickenfeed salary’…I wonder sometimes if it REALLY was worth avoiding the EU Tax Directive after all…I blame David Cameron for his pig’s breakfast and the entire Eton Mess!”
All the while the real Head of MI5- known professionally as Malcolm X- sat silent.
He knew he could kick up a fuss like Rosa Parks on a Cleveland Avenue bus but just like the work in progress on the Civil Service- his secret organisation would be disbanded by the real hand that rocked his cradle- Countryman and Comrade Dominic Cummings.
“Cummings?....is that the Guy who writes for the S*N newspaper on page 5 every week or am I thinking of a different Fifth Columnist? ’
“Out of curiosity… was that Fat Cabbage guy on there?” interrupted Boris nervously.
“Fat Cabbage?” asked Dai Commando perplexed.
“You know.... the one that produced the Bondage Films?” continued Bo Jo.
“ I think he means Cubby Broccoli!” said Philby deciphering another Bletchley Park code instantly.
“I think so….I will check this little black book I copied on my mobile camera-phone lifted from the Maxwell House….let me see in the A-listers we have Allen (Woody), Andrew also filed under H and even more Woody…Bill Clinton, Bill Cosby, Blair…sorry I can’t see any Broccoli….although it appears that some of them did have their five a day and some as many as eight!” replied Dai Commando squinting at the allocated lists of Octopussy.
“Can you turn that phone to the screen?” asked McLean.
Commando Dai being in an interview wanted to give his intended new employers what they wanted to both hear and see.
“I wonder what the phrase had a B.J. stands for?” asked McLean innocently.
“What time does that Pub of yours close?” said Boris trying to change the subject.
“ It’s not in Leicester is it?”
“The Saracen’s Head you mean?” asked McLean thoughts turning automatically to being given head.
“Can we get back to the task in hand Gentleman?” ordered Philby politely.
“So what makes you think you are the best man for the job over Idris Elba?” asked the MI5 Chief.
“This IS a secure link is it Sir?” asked Dai Commando.
“100% British telephone company from Tyneside- the Huawai the Lads network of 5G!” boasted McLean.
“Only our friends at the CIA, Microsoft, Apple, Google and Siri have access to this network- so it is unlikely to be shared anywhere- please be assured- it is as safe as Jennifer Lawrence’s I-Cloud!” said Philby.
“Well I possess a Polonium 210 tipped Umbrella, some Novichok cakes and a phial of Covid 19 that our lab techs created at Porton Down research place to f*** up the Chinese economy!” said Dai Commando.
“I also do the Thunderball lottery religiously every week!”
“Sounds good to me!” said Kermit McLean thin green legs dangling on the stairs.
“Pub anyone?” he continued looking at his Swiss watch and both his British Blue and Red EU passports.
Boris nodded enthusiastically.
“Do I get a certificate marked Cobra meeting for the haters?” he continued.
“One final question- Mr Perkins if I may?” asked Boris.
“How would YOU stop Russian infiltration of the Security Services producing fake election results in the UK?”
“Asking for a friend of course!”
“Read Peter Wright’s banned Spycatcher book- don’t employ people on your staff people who have worked in Russia for three years, don’t except donations from oligarchs for party funds, don’t play tennis against anyone wearing a sickle n hammer tee-shirt instead of a Fred Perry one and make sure the only Computer Haka you allow into the civil service is a Rugby- playing one!”.
“That way just like Jennifer Arcuri you will stay top of the polls and won’t suffer a ‘Skyfall’ replied Dai.
“Employ me because I am not easily shaken or stirred!”
“After all my word is my Bond!”
In the pews
mouths open
to out spew
the hymns
known off by hearts
in heaving chests
the rote
the rota
the cheeks
redenned and
redeemed
corrugated teeth
framed by yellowed collars
and furtive eyes
on servant girls
and recent widows
this interior world is shadow
and that which inhabits
its shade
the weight of the Bible
its brass clasp keeping
the colour pictures
of faraway places tight
until the right moment
the envy
the avarice
so many reputations at stake
in Adam's grove
where Lucifer takes over
the sêt fawr
sitting side by side
with the faithful
as the Word is heard
but no longer received
(sêt fawr-great pew)
If someone says the word "unprecedented"
one more time I will not be held accountable
for what comes next
what about the Spanish Flu
the Black Death and other plagues
including the Bible ones?
did they not happen?
did they "unhappen"?
~
does no one read history books any more
and did no one look at what was happening
in China in these supposedly connected times?
what about those warnings from the World Health Organisation?
are we no longer a part of the world?
do we think that we exist in a bubble
and that nothing or no one will burst it?
what about our own scientific community?
what were they thinking or couldn't they agree?
and why is there always a "lag"
in official data on weekends
can't they rota staff to give a
24/7 pandemic
24/7 coverage
in the information world
as figures received on Tuesdays sometimes jar?
where are we on those charts
those peaks and troughs of our lives
our deaths?
why don't we learn anything any more
particularly now that we really
do have something to learn from?
it's almost as though our minds
are erased as we sleep
making everything appear unprecedented
as it's harder to have a viable past this way
I want my past even if I don't always like it
...
Robert Godber was the last Punk left in the South Wales Valleys.
It was nearly 43 years since the Sex Pistols had shocked the Rock N Roll Community with their slogans of Never Mind the Bollocks and God save the Queen.
How times had changed.
So had the slogans too.
Never Mind the Botox and God shave the Queen was more relevant to 2020.
However, strangely enough he was still Public Enemy No 1 in the little valley Town of Merthyr Tydfil, as despite the health warnings of Covid-19, the dirty bastard still insisted on spitting on the pavement everywhere he went.
All the colours of the rainbow- but mainly shades of yellow and green paint you could only find on a B & Q paint chart.
In fact, the streets around where Rob squatted on Brecon Road were so full of spittle, most visitors thought that Merthyr had seen an influx of Premiership Footballers.
At 56 years, Rob the Gob, as he was known locally, had become quite an accomplished shot with his mouth.
He put it down to a misspent youth and his upbringing in the 1970’s as a latchkey kid, developing his oral skills, by using his pea shooter and box of hard- boiled Leo peas to take out the bulbs on the top of the wooden lampposts.
His Norwegian music teacher in school, Mr Per Cushion, had noticed that Rob had both strong lungs and a powerful trachea and therefore had him marked his strong voice out in his class as a potential trumpeter, nicknaming him the ‘new Sachmo’.
Rob thought to himself ‘What a wonderful World he lived in’ back in his halcyon schooldays, when all he had to worry about was avoiding his drunken Father’s fists and how much ‘bingo’ money he could steal from his Mother’s coat pockets before she noticed.
Now being a rebel all his life, hadn’t helped him one iota.
He had no job, he lived in a squat house that was overdue demolition, with no means of heating or lighting or mains sanitation and worse still, his advanced hair-loss had meant his green and blue Mohican/Stegosaurus had gone the way of the dinosaurs too.
His foray into the World of Punk Rock, busking outside train and bus stations under the band name of ‘Dogs die in Hot Cars’ had ended prematurely, after his backing vocalist, Flob the Dog, had been bitten by karma and died in his former mate’s hot car.
Rob the Gob didn’t care for anyone anymore- human or animal, especially after another traumatic event in his sad existence.
He was nearly 30, when his 16 year old running mate, Rusty Pinn, had died at the Reading Festival in 1992 at the Carling ‘Monsters of Rock’ Festival, whilst watching Nirvana- drowning in the Mosh Pit in a sea of what smelled like Teen Spirit and he had a held a ‘grunge’ against the World ever since.
He was the only person to cheer at the TV, when he heard that Kurt Cobain had blown his own head off with a shotgun.
There wasn’t much Love lost.
Rob the Gob didn’t have many material possessions but he was quite a follower of fashion with his proudest possession being a pair of Vivienne Westwood trousers from the Punk era with 40 different zip fasteners sown into them.
Which was great when you are 17 years of age but not so good when have a dodgy prostate at 56 with a failing memory too.
To add to Rob’s woes, he had also had an unfortunate accident whilst off his head glue-sniffing in Aberfan Cemetery.
Whilst listening to the Punk Band ‘The Skids’, he had pogoed himself into an uncharted mine entry inadvertently going ‘into the Valley’ in a totally different way.
His dyslexic sniffing mate, Alf Abett, would have saved him but unfortunately, he was arrested for importuning after he was caught ‘sniffing aerosols’.
When the rescuers found him three days later, he had to have an emergency operation to remove three days build-up of mucus, which equated and weighed three Pounds in weight from his throat.
He was given an emergency tracheostomy and had a tube inserted into his windpipe.
He was only capable of communicating with hand gestures or by placing a kazoo next to his larynx, making him sound like an effeminate Darth Vader.
Strangely enough, it didn’t stop him spitting.
Perhaps it was because of his past addiction to Camel cigarettes, but he could still produce more Phlegmish works of kerbside art than Belgian painter Peter Paul Rubens.
But when life gives you lemons, I suppose you have to do something with them.
And in this life, when one door closes a new airway opens.
Rob’s tracheostomy was to hand him an unexpected lifeline.
After the local pub, the Catholic Arms had reopened its’ doors to a limited number of visitors due to the new social distancing provisions, by accident Rob had discovered a strange new talent.
Whilst sitting in the snug, a fellow drinker, Ystradgynlais’ own Rory Railtrack had complained to the barman about the smell of Rob’s breath and the barman decided to take matters into his own hands by placing a Glade Plugin Air Freshener in Rob’s throat-hole.
It worked for a short time, but Rob suddenly realised this was an infringement of his human rights.
In anger, he thrust down his diaphragm internally with mind control and pumped his lungs with all his might.
Aiming for the sweet-spot between the ‘Neath’anderthal’s complainant’s eyes- just below his unibrow- Rob let fly.
The Glade Plug-in shot out and smacked the caveman right between the eyes and just like the Biblical confrontation between David & Goliath, the giant man of orange apparel dropped like a stone to the floor.
This brought out a loud cheer from the rest of the room, as the dazed railway worker was led from the bar in the direction of the casualty department of the Queen Camilla Hospital.
Rob had never been so popular.
He had rid them of the pub version of Simpsons’ bully Nelson Muntz.
Pints were passed to the Down and Out in Brecon Road Hills and whilst he may have had the dishevelled look about him of Nick Nolte- he no longer felt like a Poor Man but a Rich Man too.
He was even more surprised to be offered a game of darts by one of the regular more sporting patrons, Len ‘The Bull’ Taurus.
Rob felt honoured but his attempts at hitting the board failed miserably despite being given a 200 point head-start by his fellow ‘dartiste’.
He bounced more times off the tyre than Brazilian racing driver Ayrton Senna.
And then Rob had an Epiphany.
By placing the flight in the hole in his throat, he then followed the same diaphragm and throat manoeuvre that he had with the Railway Bully and all of a sudden, he was hitting treble twenty with each ‘throw’.
Len the Bull was astonished.
“Hit double top!” came the request.
Rob concentrated and the repeated the procedure.
The dart struck it’s intended target.
Again and again repeated requests from the bar to hit a certain spot were met by Rob.
He was now more accurate than a US Drone strike over Iran.
The Pub Landlord, Alan Murray, was shocked to see that Rob could hit more doubles than even he could and he was suffering from ‘Publican’s disease’.
However, the entrepreneur realised this was the chance he had been waiting for.
Kismet had ‘thrown’ this golden opportunity his way and he was determined to seize his chance.
He had read in the Industry Newspaper that local businesses were being given a kickstart by the Chancellor of the Exchequer, and despite the scientist promised second wave of Coronavirus not occurring, people had changed their habits and were no longer using pubs, inns and taverns with the frequency that they once were.
His Commercial Landlord based in the Tax Exile Cayman Islands, had come up with a series of promotions to encourage more punters to return in numbers by arranging for celebrities to visit their establishments.
But at the same time expected full rent for the three -month period the pub was unable to open.
Who could possibly resist missing a Karaoke Night with Jedward or a Mixed Martial Arts wrestle with Conor McGregor (before the real action happened at closing time) or visiting a newly refurbished Punch Tavern hosting Tyson Fury.
But the one that stood out to him was an evening of ‘Red Arrows’ with Phil ‘the Power’ Taylor, the Stoke-on Trent born, 16- time World Champion.
He was aware that the Olympic athlete was currently touring the UK and was prepared to take on all and sundry with a prize of £250,000.00 to any amateur pubgoer that could beat him over 3 legs.
Alan Murray pulled up the full rules on his mobile phone and began to read them.
If only he had taken this much time and scrutinized his pub tenancy agreement in the same way he wouldn’t be in this predicament.
His Tenancy Agreement with no Coronavirus provision meant he was still liable for full rent during the pandemic, and worse still he was obliged to buy his beer from the tied brewery at inflated prices, despite not having anyone to sell it to for over four months.
He now had more barrels than the Great White Shark in Jaws.
He scanned the rules in depth:
No Professional Players.
No discrimination- Male or Female players or combinations of both were eligible to enter the Contest.
B.A.M.E players to be given a discount off the entry fee.
DISABLED PLAYERS TO BE ENCOURAGED TO TAKE PART.
No re-throws allowed.
Only one entry per person allowed.
Referee’s decision to be final in all circumstances.
Free Goldfish to be given to all participants.
One phrase that jumped out at him was that of encouraging the disabled to take part.
Surely, Rob the Gob would fall into that category?
So what that he would have to spend thousands widening the doors, put in ramps and an mechanical lift near the dart board in the main bar- but IF an agreement could be reached with Rob and THEY won that prize then it would be the solution to their problems and they could BOTH breathe easier.
Not only that there would be a book in it and the spin-off film rights too.
Go ahead Punk and make my day!
Alan Murray the Pub Landlord was on his own self-induced Flight of Fantasy.
He decided the best course of action was to run an internal darts contest to test Rob’s new found ability.
The Evening of the Warm-up started well and despite a mere sixteen entrants turning up Rob had won the contest hands down.
So much hands down in fact, it was almost like the first ever live darts and ventriloquist act ever performed.
Come the final against Len the Bull, he was so confident of hitting his intended target that he had shouted the phrase ‘a gottle of gear’, as the dart made its way towards double top.
As Rob was crowned Catholic Arms Pub Champion much drunken celebration took place, with celebratory Covid-19 hugs all round.
Alan was now happy to submit the application form for entry online and provide a £500.00 bond.
The Bond was too ensure that the former World Champion would not turn up to an empty pub with few punters present to the embarrassment of Phil Taylor.
They didn’t want a Power Shortage or a Blackout like had previously happened at a Jim Davidson gig.
Due to the size of the bar, only 100 people were allowed as this was the maximum capacity for Health & Safety purposes.
In recent years, this had never been a problem but Alan had to take precautions and had charged £10.00 per punter entry fee to come in.
Rob was allowed one free ticket and had chosen to invite his fellow homeless friend, Pierce Head to the gathering.
He wanted Pierce to bear witness to his big payday by beating the Power in his own back yard.
Rob also had a grudge against the local electricity company, who had discovered his abstraction of electricity and shut the Power off at his squat.
His mate, Pierce Head, had already hit the jackpot by being temporarily rehoused in the 3star Castle Hotel for the period of the pandemic.
Very soon, he was being turfed out onto the street by Central Government immediately once the subsidy stopped.
In the meantime, Pierce was making merry lying on the floor in a pool of his own alcoholic vomit and piss.
Rob was getting nervous as the Competition was due to start at 7pm and it was nearly 6.15pm, as he stood outside the hotel trying to waken his friend who was busy doing an impression of the late Keith Moon of WHO fame.
Rob called up from Glebeland Street below for Pierce to hurry up.
He eventually came to the first- floor window, grey faced looking like all the blood in his body had been replaced by alcohol- which in truth it had.
“I am locked in – my religious parents are trying an intervention!” shouted back the living flagon.
“I have an idea!” shouted back Rob.
“Do you remember the Children’s story Rapunzel?”
The other grim brother from above replied “Yes!”
“Step away from the window now!” ordered Rob.
As Pierce did so, he sucked in his diaphragm and hocked a twelve- foot green ‘loogie’ skyward towards the hotel room window just like Marvel character Spiderman firing a web.
“Rapunzel, let down your hair!” shouted the drunken Pierce, as he slid down the impromptu builder’s chute funnel to safety below.
The pair raced their way to the Catholic Arms.
They made it with two minutes to spare.
Pierce was let in first but Rob was held back as Phil Taylor made his entrance from the lounge with dry ice to the song ‘I have the Power’ by Snap.
He looked the business in his flashy satin shirt with ‘The Power’ emblazoned on his back.
Rob hadn’t even chosen a song.
All he could think of was a Marc Bolan and T-Rex hit.
He asked the Landlord if he had ‘’I hock a loogie…jitterbug bogies- on the jukebox- which fortunately he did.
His Sports Direct tee-shirt had Rob ‘the Cuckoo’ Godber written in permanent black marker pen on the back.
As the pub crowd cheered their local hero, the pair went to warm up at the oche.
Rob was under orders from Landlord Alan not to show too much in the warm up, and threw the darts conventionally at the board with his right hand, scoring a composite total of 26 with his first three darts.
Phil ‘the Power’ Taylor rocked up with Shanghai just for openers- single twenty, triple twenty and double top.
The watching crowd went wild.
Rob started to get nervous.
He had never played darts in front of so many expectant people before, nor in a pressure tournament.
The sweat began to roll down from his forehead onto the rusty safety pins that he had inserted many years ago into his face.
He looked like the Mothercare version of Hellraiser.
The decision would go first would be decided by one dart closest to the centre of the dartboard bull.
Phil ‘the Power’ Taylor rocked up and hit the bull with ease.
Rob placed the dart in his neck aperture and fired.
It split the flight of the 14- time World Champion knocking it out of the board before striking the exact centre of the dartboard.
Phil ‘the Power’ Taylor looked at veteran Darts referee Tony Green who was equally stunned.
Neither of the pair had witnessed anything like it in their 40-year professional careers.
After a quick check of the PDA rulebook, Green allowed Rob to ‘throw up’ first.
As he inserted the flights into his neck, the gathered crowd could clearly see the name of the sponsors on display.
Strongbow.
Rob fired off his first three darts scoring a treble sixty with each one.
Tony Green announced over his microphone the now familiar ‘180’ to raise the excitement in the packed bar area.
People leaned on their friends, peered under armpits with some stood on tables and standing on the bar area.
All the while, Alan continued pouring pint after pint.
Irrespective of the outcome, he would at least achieve some great beer sales if nothing else.
Phil went up and replied with his first three arrows which brought the house down as another ‘180’ boomed around the room.
Rob then repeated the action.
360 points from 3 darts.
Anything Rob did- so did the Power.
A perfect twelve dart match so far.
Both players were three darts away from a nine- dart finish- the ‘heavyweight’ equivalent of a 147- maximum break at snooker.
Rob wasn’t very good at mathematics but fortunately Barman Alan was good at both doubles and trebles.
He also had to do a bit of ‘creative accountancy’ by using his awful handwriting to blur the figures over the years just to stay afloat, so he wrote the sequence required on the chalk board next to the bar for Rob.
Treble 20, Treble 19 and double 12.
Rob was never very good at following orders being an ‘anarchist and a trainee Anti-Christ’, but follow them he did, as he promptly completed an amazing 141 out sequence.
He turned around to the acclaim of the audience, arms raised aloft so proud at his achievement.
Holding a pint of Strongbow- supplied by his sponsors, he poured the golden liquid into a plastic funnel and let that slide down his tracheostomy.
Phil ‘the Power’ Taylor applauded the actions and skill of his opponent sportingly.
He knew he was in for a real challenge this time and would have to raise his game.
He did so by producing his own 9 darter to level the match at 1-1.
He did the 501 in a different sequence.
Treble 20 x 7, Treble 15 and Double 18 outshot.
The crowd gathered knew they were witnessing something special really special, especially as both players had started the final game with two rounds of treble twenties each.
Both players were on 141 out-shots, but crucially Rob the Gob had first chance.
As long as he held his nerve, he would beat the 14 times World Darts Champion at his own game.
But pressure does strange things to a man and more so to 56 -year old punks with a history of glue-sniffing.
And to Sports Direct Tee-Shirts too in a jungle environment.
The Cuckoo became the Suckoo.
Rob looked up at Pub Landlord Alan Murray, who was willing him on with ever sinew of his body.
The crowd too wanted to see the underdog turn the tables and finally win one for the underclass.
Rob was now sweating more than Liberal MP Cyril Smith in a Rochdale children’s play park.
He had developed a continuous cough and a really high temperature (103) and his throat felt like it was closing in on him.
Was it the pressure of the big occasion or the onset of Covid-19?
His body was all of a ‘quiver’ which normally was handy for someone dealing with arrows.
He looked across at the chalk board by the bar and saw the sequence written down for him.
Treble 20, Treble 19 and Double 12.
The Landlord gave him a cheery second wave.
Three darts in the correct places on the board and he would never have to work again- not that he had ever started in the first place.
He could hear the Mark Knopfler theme tune to the 1983 film ‘Local Hero’ playing in his head.
He knew his opponent was in Dire Straits.
First Dart from the Puff Daddy hit its target.
81 left.
Treble 19 next.
Rob the Gob set his ‘sights’ on the tiny patch of green separated by two thin metal wires.
Flob- and the missile sailed towards its destination.
He got it.
Only the double left.
He glanced at the chalkboard.
He sent the dart on it’s way and it hit the double.
Rob jumped in the air -the finest pogo he had performed since that Siouxsie & the Banshees concert in 1981.
“Bust!” shouted Tony Green, as he brought the Punk back down to Earth quicker than the NASA Space Shuttle Challenger.
“But I hit the double 13!” protested Rob.
He glanced up at the Landlord who had his head in his hands.
His shaky chalkboard writing looked from a distance just like double 12.
“Unlucky thirteen!” laughed Taylor, as he replaced the gutted Rob at the oche.
“Yet another ‘Choker’....141 eh…I can do that blindfolded!” boasted the Professional.
Pulling up his Coronavirus mask over his eyes, he proceeded to do just that.
Treble 20, Treble 15 and Double 18 out.
“Well normally Rob I would shake your hand but….!” Said the Power.
“Time for a ‘Merthyr Blackout’!” said the Punk.
Rob could take no more -his flights of fantasy was over in true Valleys way, he just lifted his fisted hand to land an uppercut on the fifth chin of his opponent.
Anarchy in the UK soon followed.
Sera (from Caernarfon) and Lowri (from Newport Pembs) will be especially familiar to Welsh music audiences as two bilingual singer-songwriters that have been writing, performing and recording as solo artists for some time. Between them they have been championed on BBC 6 Music, Radio 2, performed everywhere from Greenman, Festival Number 6, from King Tut’s to the Union Chapel; From Wales to America to France, which is as it happens, where the two met for the first time last year, performing at the Welsh Pavilion at the Lorient Celtic festival in August 2019.
This first meeting sparked an idea to form a female fronted band and to create their own brand of Americana; an act that could headline and represent women’s voices. Inspired by The Highwomen , a US ‘supergroup’ featuring Brandi Carlile and Amanda Shires, who formed as a response to the lack of representation of women artists on country music radio and festivals.
Their songs take their musical colours from a broad palette that includes Americana, Roots, Folk and Country, all beautifully knitted together through their innate musicality and heartfelt delivery.
AmeriCymru spoke to Sera Zyborksa about the new band and their plans for the future.
.....
Two of Wales best known singer songwriters have come together to form a newAmeriCymru: Hi Sera and many thanks for agreeing to this interview. Care to introduce your new band Tapestri for our readers?
Sera: Of course! Tapestri is a bilingual Americana band fronted by myself (Sera Zyborksa) and singer-songwriter Lowri Evans. I live in Llanfairpwll in Anglesey and Lowri is in Trefdraeth in Pembrokeshire. We’ve both been solo artists for years, releasing music in Welsh and English. This collaboration brings together our ‘roots’ influences, and the whole drive behind the project is to have confident female voices singing about the things that really matter to us and move us. We’ve got a bit of inspiration from Brandi Carlile, First Aid Kit, Sheryl Crow to name a few. The whole vibe of the band is very much inspired by The Highwomen, which is a US all-women supergroup that formed last year in response to the lack of support form women on Country Radio. They don’t just sing sad love songs and they don’t ‘play it safe’ - they write songs about all kinds of topics and their music manages to be both heartfelt and get you on your feet, make you think but also make you feel really good!
"We think that the fact we also sing in Welsh brings a nice Celtic flavour to our brand of Americana and is so important to who we both are."
That’s what we are also trying to do. We love the confident attitude of the artists involved in that project and felt like it resonated with us. We want to put on a great show too, and so the music we’ve been working on so far has a lot of light and shade. Some songs sound great with just acapella; two voices in harmony, while others have a full country band sound and have been so much fun in rehearsals. We think that the fact we also sing in Welsh brings a nice Celtic flavour to our brand of Americana and is so important to who we both are. Tapestri as a name represents the blending of our musical tastes and our personal experiences. The logo itself depicts trees with roots, and this is a nod to the folk and roots origins of our music.
AmeriCymru: When and where did you and Lowri meet and decide to form the band?
Sera: So although Lowri and I have been making music and performing for years as solo artists here in Wales, I don't think we've ever played on the same line-up as each other, which is actually quite strange. There are a lot of similarities between us, both acoustic bilingual acts, and I would have thought our paths would have crossed long before now! We are based in opposite ends of Wales, so that might have something to do with it, but also many festivals unfortunately don't tend to book too many women on their line up. And as it happens, was one of the driving forces behind forming Tapestri. It’s an issue we bonded over when we first met, backstage at the Welsh Pavilion in the Lorient Interceltic Festival last year in August 2019. Lowri was there performing with her partner Lee and I was there on my own, as a last minute addition to the line up that year. It was nice to talk to another woman in the ‘folk/singer-songwriter’ music scene who seemed to share many of my frustrations, goals and drive. After coming home, I remember feeling really inspired, musically, ready to take on the world, and wanting to start something new, something exciting.
"I remember talking to my husband about wanting to form an all-woman Americana band. I started thinking of who could be in it. I thought of Lowri."
I remember talking to my husband about wanting to form an all-woman Americana band. I started thinking of who could be in it. I thought of Lowri. At about the same time, I got a message from Lowri on Facebook asking if I'd be interested in forming an all-woman Americana band. It was really weird indeed! But obviously something was going on here, and I think we both felt that it was something that had to happen. We decided to have a writing session and see if it would lead anywhere. Soon after that Lowri came up to my house in Llanfairpwll, and we spent the weekend writing songs. I think we wrote 4 songs, all really different to each other, and it seemed to be working! It was a really interesting process. Spending so much time with someone new and trying to write really honest songs together requires you to get to know each other fast! Wine helped, as did just talking and listening to music! It made the songwriting bit come quite painlessly then, and it all felt quite organic. Which was quite the thing considering we barely knew each other at that point. After that, I went down to Trefdraeth a few times and we started laying down some tracks, making plans and pretty soon we were officially ‘Tapestri’! By Christmas, we had Lowri’s partner Lee Mason on bass and drummer Iwan Hughes on board and we had our first jam. It sounded great! Plans were put in motion for some February launch gigs and we were all set!
AmeriCymru: How difficult has it been launching a new musical project against the background of the Covid 19 crisis?
Sera: Everything seemed to be going so well in the latter part of 2019 that we felt 2020 was going to be epic for us! We were due to launch the band in February at a theatre show. We had worked so hard to rehearse our set, meeting halfway between North and South Wales in an old school hall several times, near Machynlleth. I'd been down to Pembroke a few times, and we'd started recording our EP and booked our summer tour already. We put in a lot of hours in a very short space of time. But the morning of our launch gig was the morning after Storm Ciara hit the UK. We got a call saying that the theatre had severe weather damage. So that was rearranged for July. We were disappointed, but it gave us more time to get the EP ready for the July gig and put on an even better show. Of course, the July show hasn’t happened either, so we’ve still not officially ‘launched’ Tapestri. That show, along with every other date we had in our diary for the summer was cancelled. From festivals to theatres. All gone. What's more, due to travel restrictions, I couldn't drive to Pembroke to carry on recording our EP either. Literally everything had to come to a halt after such a whirlwind few months.
"It’s now more than ever that bands and artists should pull together and try to support each other as much as we can."
Who knows when we'll be able to play again. However, every band is in a similar situation. So it’s not as though we are alone in this. It’s now more than ever that bands and artists should pull together and try to support each other as much as we can. Help each other promote our music online, even just saying kind words and watching each other’s virtual gigs helps keep with morale. One good thing is that a lot of the groundwork has been done with Tapestri. The band exists, we have plans in place, but on hold, so soon as we can, we’ll hit the ground running again.
AmeriCymru: What can you tell us about your first recording 'Y Fflam'?
Sera: Y Fflam (‘The Flame’ in English) will be the first single from Tapestri. It’s ‘Track of the week’ on BBC Radio Cymru from July 20th and then it’s released on all digital platforms on Friday the 24th of July. We really felt it was important to put something out during this time of limbo for us. We recorded a song called 'Open Flame' a while ago - It was one of the first songs we wrote together on that first weekend of songwriting I mentioned earlier. A little while ago we translated that song into Welsh and called it ‘Y Fflam’. The song is probably the most poetic and ethereal we’ve written, and that made it easy to write a Welsh version. It’s a song about a feeling, a sensation, rather than an event or specific experience, so the translation didn’t need to be completely literal. Although the story and the message remains the same; being drawn to something that may not necessarily be good for us and learning to let go.
We have a lot of light and shade in our set, with many of the songs really upbeat and fun to play, but Y Fflam is not one of those. It’s one of the most satisfying songs to perform though, as it relies totally on mine and Lowri’s vocals connecting and communicating the emotion behind the song and in fact, the language it’s sung in doesn’t seem to matter. It felt like a fitting song to release for the time we're in and also a nice way to introduce Tapestri, which at its heart is 2 women’s voices coming together. On a practical level, as the music was already recorded, we just had to re-record the vocals in Welsh, which we had to do separately of course. Making a music video for it was a challenge as again, we had to film apart.
AmeriCymru: What's next for Tapestri. Any new recordings / gigs in the works?
Sera: Ideally, we want to finish the EP and get it out for Christmas. If we can sort a tour out for it for the New Year, we will. At the moment everything is so up in the air and we have to take each day as it comes right now until we know when the UK will be able to have live music again. But we're keeping the creative channels open and we're focusing on launching the band with the single at the moment. This isn’t a project with an end date on it but something we see as a long term partnership, so a little pause right now won’t change our plans. We both write a lot, so we foresee an album in the future. We also are very keen to head out to the States and Canada as our music would probably find a good audience there, being Americana! We also want to explore other European and international scenes - I think the fact that we are a bilingual band opens our music up to different audiences and those interested in languages.
AmeriCymru: Any final message for the readers and members of AmeriCymru?
Sera: We’d love to hear from Americymru readers and members what they think of our first song and if there would be a welcome for us Stateside!
Lowri and I would also like to send our love and best wishes to you all during these uncertain times and thank each and every body who has supported independent musicians during this time, whether it's liking their facebook posts or buying CDs. It all means a lot.
It would be great if you could follow us on Twitter/Instagram/Facebook etc.
You can find us across social media @tapestrimusic
And there are a few videos you can watch on - Youtube
Here’s the pre-save link to ‘Y Fflam:’ - Y Fflam
On twenty two consecutive days
in April 2020
over 1,000 people died
of Covid-19
in my country
though Ministers daily
downplayed this abomination
with figures of three digits
my country
in need of care
though you wouldn't know it
from the way it is treated
by its careless rulers
those leaders that morph into
cheap game show hosts
Brylcreemed
three digits
knowing winks
and prizes you can't use
my country
a bump on the earth
a thing of beauty
radiating from the smiles
that come gladly to the faces
of the low paid and short changed
I applaud them
I applaud anyone
who has not swallowed
the lies attached to the events
of these rariefied days
as the undertakers work overtime
and the monumental masons
inscribe new stanzas
on the Avenues of Tombs
