Sunday 4 December 2016

OCD - Three letters that spell success for your folk club


Pete Willow reflects on the skills and attitudes behind the effective organisation of folk clubs and offers a useful survival test for your venue.


Never mind the fountain of youth or the meaning of life. The big quest for Folk21 and its affiliates is the secret of a successful folk club.


Often the topic of regional away-days, festival workshops and internet forum discussions, suggestions range from clever marketing and a high quality host act to decent beer and a good car park. But underpinning all of these is a mental attitude – I would go as far as to say a condition – possessed by organisers determined to make their clubs work.

I’m talking about OCD.

Yes - Organisers’ Control and Domination, a phenomenon I have often witnessed during a lifetime of enjoying folk music at small venues. OCD is characterised by acts of planning and management to the last zealous detail.

Giveaway indicators of OCD include admission tables laden with neatly stacked flyers, cleanly printed and laminated notices and attended by efficiently busy admin-receptionists offering membership cards, loyalty cards, raffle tickets and copies of the club newsletter. Chairs in the club room are aligned with utmost precision and instrument cases are stacked neatly in the anteroom.

Please do not read this article as a criticism of OCD. When the world outside is seething in chaos and insanity, it’s reassuring to know that the folk club can be a welcoming sanctuary of orderliness where everything can be relied on to be in its right place.

Yes it may result in a ritualistic format with the same floor singers each week singing the same songs and comperes telling the same jokes. But folk clubs driven by OCD are arguably the ones that survive and even flourish.

Does your folk club display symptoms of management by OCD?


Does it depend on meticulous organisation to offer a safe and predictable experience for its visitors and members? Here’s a simple test to establish – with mathematical exactitude – the position of your club on the scale of systematic supervision. Tot up your score for each answer to find out.

After all, it’s good to know these things.




1. Which of these is the closest to your club’s approach to managing floor singers?

            a) All your floor singers are booked in advance, sometimes weeks ahead of the actual night. If approached by a floor singer you think would not entertain the audience, you lie through your teeth and claim that all the slots are already full. (3 points)
            b) On arrival, each floor singer has to sign up for a 10-minute performance slot on a form that is displayed at the door. It’s first-come, first-served and heaven help any floor singer who isn’t ready at their selected time or whose performance runs over time. (2 points)
           c) You keep your fingers crossed that enough floor singers show up to pad out the evening because your resident act only knows three numbers and your guest is contracted to perform a maximum of two 30-minute sets. (1 point)

2. Which of these is the closest to your club’s approach to time management?

           a) The MC steps on stage at 8pm on the dot, your guest act is given precise start and finish times, your interval runs for exactly 20 minutes and you are so determined to keep to the schedule that you have timer switches pre-set to operate the room lights and interval music, no matter what is happening on the stage. (3 points)
           b) The MC stands and hovers by the side of the stage to intimidate long-winded floor acts to finish their song and get off. You consider resorting to a long stick with a hook to grab acts that over-run (or otherwise cause the audience to lose its will to live). (2 points)
          c) You adopt a laid-back approach, allowing all floor singers who show up a chance to perform, even if it results in the guest act’s final set being reduced to a 10-minute performance to a half-empty room because people have to be up early for work the following morning. (minus 5 points!)

3. Which of these is more typical of your club’s overall operational policy?

     a) You have a detailed written constitution, agreed by a committee, published on the website and summarised in small print on the back of your flyers and business cards, setting out:
                     i.   your rules on booking guests, and organising floor singers;
                     ii.  your club’s mission and vision statements;
                     iii. your definition of ‘folk music’ with prohibitions on the use of electric guitars, 5-string banjos (4-string banjos are permitted), keyboards (unless battery operated), drum kits and mouth-operated bagpipes;
                     iv. your sanctions and penalties against anyone contravening such club regulations as entering the room in the middle of someone’s song, moving the furniture to create more leg-room, refusing to buy a raffle ticket or farting during the unaccompanied performance of a Child ballad. (5-15 points depending on the number of clauses and sub-clauses in the policy document)
            b) Your operational policy is based on rule-of-thumb expediency in which decisions are made on the hoof to deal with emerging situations, ranging from floor singers not bothering to tune their instruments until they are called on stage, to old-school guest acts, who were famous in the 60s, cracking sexist jokes. (2 points)
            c) You have an entirely laissez-faire policy in which allowable ‘folk’ music performances include Gilbert & Sullivan songs, Gilbert O’Sullivan songs, Black Sabbath hits, interminably long-winded, allegorical to the point of incomprehensible, self-penned songs, or past Eurovision entries now so old that they could be regarded as traditional. (nul points)

4. Which of these is the closest to your club’s approach to booking guests?

            a) Every now and again, you pick up the phone, ring round your contacts and see if anyone is available to appear over the next few weeks. (1 point)
            b) You visit folk festivals and other folk clubs and make a list of acts who you think will go down well. (2 points. Increase to 5 points if you decide to keep the list on file and carry on rebooking all the guests you had last year)
            c) You keep diaries for the next three years with every date fully booked in advance apart from the occasional singers night which will probably become another guest night anyway if someone famous happens to have a free date in their national tour schedule and is willing to perform for the jug collection, a chance to crash out on your sofa and a bowl of cornflakes. (3 points. More if the sofa opens up to bed with clean sheets and a perfectly plumped pillow)

And finally

5. Who is actually in charge of your folk club?

            a) You are and your word is law. If you have to have a committee, you insist on the right to veto any decision it may make. You may be a benevolent dictator but you are a dictator nevertheless. (3 points – or more if you are particularly OCD anyway)
            b) A Committee. This is elected periodically, according to the rules set out in your constitution. The Committee includes a Treasurer who manages the club’s own bank account and issues a quarterly report on the size of the club’s overdraft. Club members form a panel of wannabe Simon Cowells who adopt a points system to determine who should be booked as guests and agree rules on booking criteria, e.g. all artists must have proved popular with the audience for at least two floor spots or have been given a glowing review in Folk Roots. (Also 3 points)
            c) The audience. You are a committed democrat, an ageing hippy, an anarchist or a closet Thatcherite – whatever, the free market reigns. (0 – 5 points, depending on how much you secretly admire Margaret Thatcher. 10 points if you actually ask your audience to participate in secret ballots to determine the price of raffle tickets).

So how did you score?

15 points or more: OCD rules and your folk club is your own fiefdom. It stands an excellent chance of surviving for the next three years or when your last regular audience member pops his/her clogs, whichever comes sooner.

10-15 points: you try to stay on top of things. You may have great plans but find yourself having to repress your inner Genghis Khan to make space for your outer Jeremy Corbyn.

0-10 points: you may have moments of lucid assertiveness but more often than not you find yourself sitting at the door of your folk club with no idea of who is going to show up or what is going to happen. Either that or you’re just too nice.

Anything less than zero: there is no trace of OCD at your folk club whatsoever. Its guiding principle is in fact SNAFU.