SKIFFLE CELLAR (Greek street, Soho)

Un texte "parfait" d'une des protagonistes du Skiffle Cellar de Soho, à l'époque où la Pop music s'apprêtait à naître ! La "mode" était à la Skiffle music (Lonnie Donegan, Vipers, etc. Emission télévisée 6-5 Special, etc.).
Les City Ramblers étaient un groupe fantastique... et le joueur d'embouchure de trompette impressionant !
Une des chanteuses d'alors a écrit des livres sur sa Communauté type Summerhill et dynamise actuellement un club de poésie et de chansons à Londres.
Nous avons conservé quelques photos de l'époque, lorsque ce Cellar accueillit mon propre Skiffle group franco-britannique !

"Once ensconced in the Nucleus Coffee Bar, down below Monmouth Street where a group of strummers are already assembled, I take out my guitar, struggle to put it in tune and take my turn to sing. The songs pass round, a hotch potch from Josh White, Burl Ives, Ewan McColl, red songs, love songs, chorus songs, ...Take this Hammer (whah!) Carry it to the Captain (whah!) Whah!? - the deep exhalation of breath as the chain gang swings its heavy implements in unison and brings them down on an unyielding pile of rocks so that the railroad can be built... American songs... English songs...

Meanwhile out of the big square world beyond, Bill Haley, cowlick curled over forehead, Comets in tow, zoomed into the Dominion Theatre. A crowd of Teddy Boys fingered their quiffs and hung onto their bootlace ties as they pushed and jostled and stopped the traffic in Tottenham Court Road for a sight of the first Rock n Roll man to make it across the Atlantic, Gonna rock rock rock around the clock tonight. Too homely to be a sex symbol, Bill Haley turned out to be the bland overture before the advent of lean-hipped, rhinestone-studded, hound-dog-crying, high-heeled-buffalo-hide-booted Elvis changed our lives forever and fathered a long dynasty of British rockers.

Hylda Sims"