Stage 2
What Is Stage 2?
For over 15 years, my pal Colin and I have been going to Cropredy. Colin has been to every one, plus a few before it was an organised festival. Colin and I play guitar, and it has been our habit to return to the tents at the end of the evening, brew up some coffee, open a bottle or two and get the guitars out. Sometimes we even played them. Occasionally, people joined us to listen, sing, or play a few themselves.The area in which this happened began to be referred to as Stage 2 about two years ago, when listmembers managed to organise themselves enough to get into a convoy so that we could all camp together. Stage 2, however, sounds much more organised than it is, or was ever intended to be. To my mind, there is a slight touch of professionalism implied, and it certainly isn't a space for performance as such... it's always been a place where friends gather to have a bit of a play and a sing. Hopefully, others may stumble across it and stay for a while, because the best sessions have always relied heavily on serendipity.
If anyone brings an instrument and/or a voice, I hope that they come and sit down with us. I particularly hope that *anyone* feels that they can join in, regardless of talent. What I enjoy most is playing along with or listening to the wide range of styles and musical forms that are attempted - as has been remarked here before, it can be anything from Remember You're A Womble to Led Zeppelin, with chord names shouted to those who don't know them.
Perhaps a small part of my Cropredy review from last year may sum up the loose feel of what happens outside the tent:
"Back to the tents, make coffee, play, sing - mandolin man is back, this time with mandolin, without alcoholic impediment, strewth that guy can play, so can everyone really, even me... call it the Cropredy effect. What are the chances of all those musicians turning up late at night in the open air, and all the instruments being in tune with each other? None at all, the first 15 minutes is spent crying "OK, now give me a D"... "Has anyone got a tuner?"... "Yes, I have"... "Then why don't you use it?"... But then we're off, sometimes people stop playing for a solo star, other times they come crashing in, chords all over the place, who cares, it sounds nice, people sing... and you look around...
Everyone is smiling, down here in the depths of the night. Everyone is happy. They know it doesn't matter if they can't remember the words, or the names of the people around them, they're quietly content to play, sing, listen, smile, laugh. They're not drunk, though they might have drink taken. This is better than drunk. Dvina grins at me, Jo kisses Steve, Mark holds Jenny's hand, Colin exchanges a glance with me - yeah, this is how it should be - and for a long, long time that is but a fraction of the year that is to come before we are all back here again... all is well, in this tiny square of the planet. All is well."
I can't put it any better than that, really. Any attempt to organise anything will detract from it. Good grief, I sometimes think that even rehearsing would detract from it! Of course, if anyone wants to organise something, that's for them to do, but I'll probably be outside the tent having a bit of a play. That's all it is, really... having a bit of a play.
(from Mark)