1. The Tolpuddle Mayrter Yes indeed! lets start with the original scource material old "homo flatcapus" himself, the cradle of the brass band movement, the man who has saddled the whole genre with decades of cheap tedious mockery. The man who has reduced the image of brass banding to what is is today, that of the thick ruddy faced northerner, resplendant in his hob nail boots, braces and knotted hankerchief head gear. Its an image which we all know is richly deserved! especially when you are unfortunate enough to have one of these venerable old gits facing you every monday night brandishing a white stick, the colour of which stands out sharply against his blue coal dust stained skin, and his big red hooter. He is the fossilised old fart that time forgot, certainly this present century and most of the last, have passed him by leaving no impression what so ever. Memory, reality, and the future, all started to part company in his mind, and go there separate ways round about 1942, which may explain why he still turns up to rehearsal in an ARP wardens hat and keeps shouting "put that ****** light out" for no apparent reason. His choice of repetoire is predictable, "the older it is the better it is" he likes nothing better than dishing out ancient yellow rags of parchement, usually transcriptions of obscure 18th century Italian grand opera overtures, written in his own hand, by candel light, while waiting for five weeks to be rescued from "the great tunnel collapse of 1923" at Barnstonworth Colliery. He is of course a former player himself and was known to have the widest and deepest soprano vibrato in the whole of North West Yorkshire. With the extra leavening of nerves that only contest day itself can provide, he was capable of covering in excess of a sharpened fifth either side of any given note through out entire range of the intrument. With this level of proficiency in mind, he is never happy untill the vibrato intensity is so high during rehearsals, that the band room wobbles like a jelly, causing the need for regular replasterings of the band room ceiling. A visit to his home will shed more light on the nature of this living breathing dinosaur of brass. He has the worlds biggest collection of wax cylinder recordings including "Life Divine", all 23 renditions, from the Brass band championships at Crystal Palace in 1897. He also has a much treasured wire spool recording of Barstonworth Silver entertaining the night shift "dahn,t t,pit" on Xmas eve, at Number three seam. The vibrato was so intense it caused a partial collapse of the service tunnel, pit props can clearly be heard splitting in the back ground as the band bravely continue playing "Silent night". Every one survived, but the following night, the pit canarie's head exploded while trying to imitate the soprano players rendition of "Take A Pair of Sparkling Eyes". His requirements in the band room are simple, no women, no gays, no blacks. "Surface workers" are barely tolerated and would have to have an incredibly wide, unpredictable and excrutiatingly unmusical vibrato to have any chance of hanging on to their "chair". His musical philosphy is "keep it loud, keep it wobbley, tuning is for queers!"