Towards the end of of Tom's 'busking round England' book he describes how one night he made his way across country in the dark back to the National Centre for Folk Arts where he was staying. With his eyes slowly adapting to the darkness he comes across a horse standing at a gate. This is followed by him seeing a shooting star and he reminds the reader how the dark, away from city lights, is not something to be feared but to be savoured. Moments later he sees a second horse and I had to stop reading and laughed out loud as Tom relates how it, "let off soft equine farts from time to time."
A sense of humour is probably a useful tool to have when busking around disparate parts of his home land, from the seaside communities largely populated by retired business folk wary of strangers, to the multi-cultural conurbations of the Midlands. While Tom did play the occasional gig on his travels and was sometimes put up by friends and fellow folkies, there were times he was genuinely busking to earn enough money to feed himself and pay for a roof over his head. Members of the public were often more generous in the less affluent places and people frequently wanted to stop and chat - one memorable conversation being with another fiddle player who had been a classical musician until his failing eyesight meant he could no longer read music. But he had discovered the joys of sitting in on folk sessions and this had opened up a whole new world of music to him.
There are frequent references to pubs visited, with highly competitive games being played in one of them, and encouraging signs that young people are setting up their own independent businesses be they bars or coffee shops. This gives one hope for the future in that many young people seem to be rejecting the depressing sameness of the high street dominated by the big names.
In one of the interludes in the book he describes how on rare occasions the music would almost transport him to another place. It's as if all the planets are aligned and for a brief moment there is something truly esoteric and wonderful happening. He describes one such occasion when he was lost in his playing. When he opened his eyes there were a couple of passers-by who were also caught up in the moment and could tell that something special had just happened.
If you are a musician, as I am, or a regular concert goer (when such things were possible), you may well have witnessed this sort of almost magical event. You come away feeling uplifted and forget all the negative stuff that so often dominates our everyday lives.
The cd which Tom has released is a fine collection of tunes on which he is ably assisted by Scandinavian latmandola player Marit Falt. If it had been meant as an accompaniment to the book then I would have expected it to be mostly solo fiddle pieces but it does give you a feel for Tom's playing style. He is, by his own admission, a large chap (beer, pies and pizza feature heavily in his book) and he has at times quite a percussive way of playing his instrument.
While the cd is likely to appeal mainly to folk music fans, the book can be enjoyed by anyone with an interest in the state of England in the present day from the wilds of West Cumbria to the metropolis that is Old London Town.
For more info check out his website - tomkitching.co.uk
