Right, I’m going to say this outright. There’s something about people from Manchester and Liverpool. They know how to party. They don’t hold back. There, I said it. This weekend I crossed the border of Yorkshire to provide my evening services for Myles and Lyndsey who got themselves all married up at a beautiful venue just on the border of Lake Windermere, Broadoaks Country House.
Wedding Singer and Guitarist
Lyndsey and Myles approached me at the start of the year to sing at their wedding evening reception. After 5 years of doing this I’ve developed a good sense for how the evening is going to go right from the moment I walk into the venue. This evening I could hear clinking of glasses and cackling of laughter before a gentleman approached me, looked at my guitar and said “What do you do?” with his tongue placed firmly in his cheek. It was going to be a big night. Then I found out they were all from Manchester. Being from Yorkshire I have a fairly stereotypical view of Mancunians. In my head they all wear cagoules, sunglasses and have bowl hair cuts. They sort of do this little jig thing while they talk and say “aaaar kid” a lot. And they’re all loud. While my prejudices may be somewhat set I will defend myself by saying that at least ONE of those things has been consistent in my time travelling to be a wedding singer in Lancashire, they’re loud and they party hard.
Wedding First Dance Live
We watched as the happy couple danced to my interpretation of the magnificent Grow Old With Me by Tom Odell before kicking off the party with some live tunes. Into the night and after the food the party really kicked off with some tunes that everyone loved. There seemed to be a sharp mix in the crowd with some calling for indie classics such as Common People by Pulp and others dying to get on the floor to some classic 90s poptastic tunes. The Spice Girls were in high demand (not live, although I did manage to sing my rendition of Hit Me Baby One More Time. That’s right dear reader!) as were Rednex and R Kelly.
Singer and Guitarist, Skipton
Heading back from Windermere the next day I was pleased to pop into Phil and Debbie’s garden party on the border of Skipton and Lancashire. There was a huge white rose flag flying in the garden, perhaps signalling to the neighbours were allegiances belonged. Even so, Phil was from Manchester so asked me to knock out some of The Smiths for him. I obliged and we had a lovely time enjoying their BBQ while the children went and threw themselves in the lake at the bottom of the garden. Standard afternoon in the Yorkshire Dales I think.
Until next week when we do it all again.
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