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I Wanna Be A Folk Star

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It's occured to me that, while I've shared my often-incoherent opinions here, and erratically reported on my life (usually six months after something interesting happened, so I've forgotten about it), one thing I haven't done is inflicted any of my song parodies on readers. Well, your luck has run out.

This particular one is atypical, in that it's not a SF&F based song (a filk). It is, however typical in that it was spawned from hearing a song repeatedly on the radio at work, until my brain decided to turn it into a song I liked better. (About two thirds of my song parodies are generated that way, at least when I'm working somewhere with a radio. The rest are created from songs I really like, on the grounds that songs that good must *have* a Discworld [or whatever] version, and I just need to work out what it is).

Apologies to all readers who find the references to the UK folk scene impenetrable. And further apologies to those who find them embarassingly superficial (I know I'm not a True Folkie).



I Wanna Be A Folk Star
(TTO "I Wanna Be A Rock Star" by Nickleback)

I never saw the appeal of the rock'n'roll life,
I'd rather sing the songs of the Borders and Fife,
Play an eightsome reel, but maybe with a modern spin.
(Tell me what you want.)

I want a beard and a jersey and a special mission,
To create new music in an old tradition,
And to play instruments that don't need to be plugged in.
(Aye, and the rest.)

I wanna sing about fishermen and their plight,
And for and against the Jacobite,
And similar tales of recent and historic woe.
(Like the routing of the Blues.)

I wanna go to a ceilidh in the Western Isles,
Sing bothy ballads somewhere there's no power for miles,
And swap songs with Dougie Maclean and Donnie Munro.
(And Dick Gaughin.)

I want Phil Cunningham to give me a mention.
I'll be a bigger name than Fairport Convention.

'Cos we all just wanna be big folk stars,
On makeshift stages in crowded bars,
Some songs are happy but more are sad,
And most are written by some guy named Trad.

Yeah, we all just wanna be folk stars,
With a blazing fiddle or weeping guitar,
The crowds are friendly and they'll buy us beer,
And we'll sing with a finger stuck in one ear.

Hey, hey, I wanna be a folk star.
Hey, hey, I wanna be a folk star.

I'll be on the road so long, but I won't feel down,
As long as I'm out of this dirty old town,
To Scarborough Fair, past Lomond's banks and braes.
(And you can tak the low road.)

When the band plays Bogle and I join in too,
Well, there's no telling what a song can do.
Maybe I'd lose friends, but I'll find more on the way.
(And I'll think of Scotland all the time.)

My distinctive style's gonna pack the house,
One-third Capercailie, two-thirds Famous Grouse.

'Cos we all just wanna be big folk stars,
On makeshift stages in crowded bars,
Some songs are happy but more are sad,
And most are written by some guy named Trad.

Yeah, we all just wanna be folk stars,
With a blazing fiddle or weeping guitar,
The crowds are friendly and they'll buy us beer,
And we'll sing with a finger stuck in one ear.

Then we start singing them a mournful air,
With laboured double entendres about a hare,
The crowd join in on the final line,
Everybody clap together to help keep the time.

Hey, hey, I wanna be a folk star.

So when the Celtic Connections are being made,
I wanna be connected to the centre stage.
I'll even learn the Gaelic, though it may sound odd,
Since that's the only way I'm gonna break the Mod.

Well, we all just wanna be big folk stars,
On makeshift stages in crowded bars,
Some songs are happy but more are sad,
And most are written by some guy named Trad.

Yeah, we all just wanna be folk stars,
With a blazing fiddle or weeping guitar,
The crowds are friendly and they'll buy us beer,
And we'll sing with a finger stuck in one ear.

Then we start singing them a mournful air,
With laboured double entendres about a hare,
The crowd join in on the final line,
Everybody clap together to help keep the time.

Hey, hey, I wanna be a folk star.
Hey, hey, I wanna be a folk star.

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Comments

sloopjonb
Feb. 25th, 2008 10:01 pm (UTC)
There should be an 'As I was a-walking' in there somewhere. It's a charter, or an old trad., or something.

(I have sung folk songs in public. And lived to tell the tale. With a verse/chorus/verse/chorus/finish, whack-fol-o-diddle-I-day).