Skip to main content

Gospel Music

One of the pitfalls of moving to a different country is that words often mean something different to what you think they mean. A trolley is a form of transport that runs on rails down the street, rather than something you put your shopping in. That's a cart. Which doesn't carry as much of a connotation of "horse and" as it does in the UK. And I was recently gently informed that "jugs" more usually refer to a part of the female anatomy than to something you put milk in. I will have to get used to saying "pitcher". Isn't that what you hang on a wall?

After a few years here, we are mostly au fait with the local lingo, and manage to turn up at the right place and avoid offending the natives. However, on Friday night, Graham found out that there was a gospel music concert going on at a local church. Our Americanism detector did not light up, and the predominant picture in both our heads was something like this:



Big choir, bright colours, high-energy songs. Dancing, swaying, drum-playing fun, right? Isn't that gospel music?

Um, maybe. But not Southern gospel music.



Southern gospel music involves four men in dark suits singing in close harmony about trusting in Jesus. Think barbershop quartet meets old-style revival meeting. If you close your eyes it's very easy to imagine yourself in a crowded tent with sawdust on the floor, being exhorted to repent of your sins by a fire and brimstone preacher. Wikipedia informs me that southern gospel started around 1910, and it looked as if some of the audience in the concert might have been in at the beginning. We were noticeable for not having grey hair and a walking stick.

This is not, you understand, to say that it was bad music. When there's just three or four of you singing, each of you has to be good, and some of these people were very good (a lot better than the group in the video). But there was a certain repetitiveness about the subject matter and musical style that grated on the nerves after a few hours. And yes, it was a few hours. Two and a half, to be exact. Non-stop gospel music. When they sang "God bless the USA" and the entire audience stood up with their hands in the air we thought surely it must be over, but it turned out that there were another two groups to go. Finally it ended with a song about heaven, written, improbably enough, while getting a sausage and egg biscuit at a drive-through.

No, the American meaning of biscuit. Think scone. And sausage isn't quite the same either. But your mental image of egg is probably about right.

Comments

John Evens said…
This is hilarious, I can't believe you stayed for the whole thing!
Martha said…
The first few acts weren't actually too bad... and then we kept thinking it had to be over soon, so we stayed just one more act... and then one more... one more...

Popular posts from this blog

Greece is the word! Part 1: Athens

The last few times we have been on holiday, my family has asked, "Mum, are you going to blog about this one?" It's felt like an overwhelming task. For a start, we now have FOUR phones with photos on, rather than one digital camera. Also, I regularly write quite long blog posts about three-hour walks. How on earth will I summarise a full week's holiday? But this time, I thought I should try. It's one of the most enjoyable holidays we've had in a while, and I've definitely done too many Peak District posts recently. Everyone needs a change of scenery. So here we go, jetting off to Athens. Day 1 We landed at Athens airport in a looming thunderstorm, but the worst of the rain held off until we'd made it safely to our apartment. Graham had earmarked a nice little restaurant called Lolos for dinner - eating shell-on prawns in tomato sauce was a deliciously messy experience - and we went to bed early after our 3am start. Day 2 Next day we climbed Philopappos ...

The Churnet Way: a wonderful walk

The loop from Oakamoor to Froghall and back was one of the most enjoyable walks I've done in a long time. It had a bit of everything: woods, ponds, rivers and railways; steep climbs and sweeping views; an unusual church, an ex-industrial wharf, and, as a final bonus, car parks with toilets. Of course, the sunny weather helped too. I parked in Oakamoor and set off along a quiet lane called Stoney Dale. This is the route of the Churnet Way, which deviates away from the river for a couple of miles. After a while I turned right and climbed up through the woods on a gravelly path, then dropped down to the B5417. a spring in Oakamoor   Crossing the road, I entered Hawksmoor Nature Reserve. It has some fine gateposts commemorating John Richard Beech Masefield, "a great naturalist". I found a photo of the opening of the gateway in 1933; unsurprisingly, the trees have grown a lot since then! A track took me down through the woods to East Wall Farm. Lovely view! Nice duck pond as ...

Derwent Valley: Belper and Duffield

I'm getting into familiar territory with this walk. Duffield is one of the closest places that I can easily drive to and climb a hill, so I've done lots of walking around here. It's surprising how many new places I still see, though. Temperature: warm. Likelihood of being attacked by hordes of nettles: low. I decide to wear shorts. It's a good choice. The paths are well-trodden, and the sun is bright, though there's a pleasant breeze. There's plenty of free parking by Duffield church, so I drive there and walk across a field to the main road. Veering left up King Street, there is lots to see: the Methodist church, a butchers, and a penny-farthing gate. At the cemetery, I turn right and pick up a path towards the golf course. I'm heading towards the Chevin Hills here, which are the absolute lower reaches of the Pennine range. The ancient trackway along the ridge of the hills is another favourite walk. But today I'm just going straight down the other side ...