Lost and found
THERE HAVEN'T BEEN too many protest songs blowing in the wind this year. Despite the Gulf war being televised directly into our living rooms, folk music - the genre that stood up so famously for peace in the 1960s - seems to be under an attack of its own. Across Britain and the United States, folk clubs are vanishing. A generation that has been spoon-fed packaged, processed pop has emerged into audiences that no longer understand the appeal of raw, roots music. Audience numbers are on the decline, venues are vanishing and musicians are suffering.
'It's a money thing,' says Gilly Darbey, a prolific singer from Britain, who is facing her own shrinking line-up of gigs. 'They're closing the clubs down, and it's making the folk scene elitist and almost like the pop world.'
The 46-year-old singer should know. With a soulful voice drawing comparisons to the late Eva Cassidy, Darbey has been singing professionally since she was a 14-year-old in Coventry in the English Midlands. She was 'an angry young woman' who was into the protest songs of Bob Dylan, Joan Baez and Joni Mitchell.
'As a youngster I learnt my trade by being able to go around all the folk clubs, a nurturing environment where there was a mutual appreciation between the musicians and the audience,' she remembers. 'But now, because people are scrambling for money, the clubs are closing and it's getting more cut-throat. It's hard for youngsters. It's hard even for people like me who have a reputation.'
Darbey became a big name in the British scene when she teamed up in her 20s with songwriter Keith Donnelly for the folk act, Waterfall. Their acclaimed Nothing By Chance tour saw them opening for the likes of Van Morrison, Phil Cool, Tori Amos and Jasper Carrott. They also played such legendary slots as the opening act of the main stage of the Cambridge Festival - arguably Britain's best folk gathering. After a 20-year history, this partnership ended recently and Darbey set out to establish herself as a solo artist.
'I floundered for a while, trying to find my own direction,' she says. 'But I've come around and have really discovered the blues, as well as rediscovering the 60s' artists.'
Marshall Hughes, who spent two decades hosting folk shows on RTHK - and two years ago took over the chair of the Hong Kong Folk Society - is saddened by the current state of folk affairs.
'I think you'll find the trend worldwide is that folk clubs that really kicked the whole thing off 30 years ago are in decline,' he says, adding that it might be a good idea to refrain from starting this article with 'cliches of cardigans and beards and tankers and all that arcane stuff'.
For Hughes, whose own children cringe at the sound of the 'F-word', there is a serious marketing problem at work. 'The younger generation has all the wrong associations,' he believes. 'The thing my kids find really hard to understand is that folk music used to be dead cool; the rap of today if you like. For me, folk is music of the present with a foot in the past. Something that draws on the past but is really the music of today. It has such passion. It speaks about real things, work, love adultery, death.'
Musicians may be losing their regular work as live music seeps slowly from our social settings, but Hughes says there is a silver lining to this story. The clubs may be going under, but the music is returning to its roots - literally - in fields of rent-free, green grass.
'Clubs are in a decline, but what is in acendancy is the folk festival, certainly in Britain, Europe and North America, and to a lesser extent here. During the summer months the festivals are just huge. Maybe that's just evolution,' he muses. 'Maybe after 30 years we should expect to see a different outlet for the music.'
And Darbey's gig is a shot in the arm for Hong Kongers, he says. 'She's got a fantastic voice, such range and power. And the best thing about these folk performers is that they're accessible, they're not starstruck. If you want to meet Gilly Darbey, you can stand at the bar and talk to her all night.'
Paul Day, who has been entertaining Hong Kong audiences since the late 80s with his versatile folk act Junk, agrees that despite the shrinking audiences at monthly gigs, the folk festival appears to be taking hold.
'The festivals are certainly very popular here,' says the Welshman. 'Last year was really the revival of the folk festival, it was held at Quarry Bay School and was huge, involving lots of local artists.'
Outdoor festivals are indeed something we might embrace even more, considering the severe acute respiratory syndrome (Sars) situation. Folk musicians who are being forced out of clubs and into the great oudoors of the Australian festivals can also be intercepted by the Hong Kong Folk Society. This is what brings Darbey to the Caledonia pub on May 3.
'I'm really excited about coming,' she says, shrugging off the threat of Sars and describing her set as an 'eclectic' mix from covers of Nina Simone to Carole King and Bob Dylan.
'The songs are all a part of my journey,' she says. 'Life is a journey and if I happen to be going through something and hear a song that goes very well with that, I'll sing it.'
Gilly Darbey performs on Saturday, May 3, 8pm, at Caledonia, G/F, Hutchison House, 10 Harcourt Road, Central. Tel: 2524 1314. Tickets $120 for Hong Kong Folk Society (HKFS) members, $160 non-members, $80 students. Available by calling the HKFS 2566 4546 or at the door.
