A NUMBER of years ago I came across the Carlton Belles and the Barnsley Buskers. The Belles are a group of mature women who adore music, dancing and demand a social life. They are a unique group, determined to have fun and become a central feature of the community.
The Buskers are a group of talented vocalists who act as a learning academy for budding professional singers.
These two groups still exist today because of their interdependence. When they’re apart, they are like Morecambe without Wise; together they’re as bright and noisy as Guy Fawkes Night.
The Belles follow the Buskers whenever they perform, swelling the audiences and raising the level of enjoyment.
They were created by Margaret Morris – a Carlton resident – and Christine Coates who, at the time, ran the Wharncliffe Arms. Both women are good organisers, powerful personalities and the nicest people imaginable.
They never take themselves too seriously but are proud to forge a reputation for outrageous fun.
Margaret once asked: “Fancy coming to Yarmouth with us for the weekend, Ronnie? There’s very nearly a bus-full going?”
“Not really, Margaret. I’ve busted my dental bridge so I feel embarrassed without front teeth,” I replied, hiding my gums with the back of my hand.
“Aw, you don’t need to worry about that. Nobody’ll even notice.”
On the first night in Yarmouth, as I entered the bar area, more than 20 Belles were grinning at me – each wearing the most hideous pretend plastic dentures. From that moment on, my missing teeth didn’t seem important anymore.
The Belles are a lot more than fun-loving comics and fundraisers. They have always been a tour de force for women’s rights. In one incident on Geralyn’s mini bus, one group member was having a tough time coping with a jealous partner. He kept phoning her every few minutes and she was struggling to cope with it.
“We’re used to this,” said Margaret to the timorous lady. “Give me the phone.” And turning her attention to the fellow on the other end of the line she said: “Now listen here, you. You’ve already phoned our colleague three times and we’ve only been on the bus half a bloody hour. We know what your game is and we’re not putting up with it. Do you hear? And if you continue threatening and controlling, we’ll ALL be paying you a ‘friendly’ visit. And I mean ‘all’, and we know where you live. Capiche?”
After that, the woman got no more harassment.
The Belles don’t appreciate the use of bad language, either. So, although the odd expletive would be uttered and ignored, regular effin’ and blindin’ was forbidden.
The rise of the Barnsley Buskers would never have happened without the enthusiastic support of the Belles.
The Buskers’ group was created by several semi-professional artists like Ray Denver, Barry Harman and Raine Redfearn (stage names). These entertainers had honed their stage-craft in clubs over many years.
The name ‘Buskers’ was really a misnomer. In the traditional sense, buskers are street performers but this new type of busker operated as part of a team, on stage, for roughly 20 minutes each.
The lead singer performed first and later introduced each supporting act in their turn, to sing maybe five songs – that’s if you could wrestle the microphone from their grip.
They had to be talented and slick enough to know which songs worked and to interact smoothly with any audience. On the completion of a successful evening they were paid a remittance for filling the club with thirsty punters.
As novice singers became more accomplished and bought their own (expensive) equipment, they too took their turn to host an evening and earn a fee.
The Buskers’ evenings became very popular from the 1990s onwards, drawing big audiences, and they still continue to this day – though not on the same scale.
There are two things that will forever stick in my memory about these two groups. One, is watching a raw busker slowly develop into a highly talented semi professional performer; and the other is listening to the Belles performing their signature Shirelles’ song at the end of the evening. The very thought of it still sends a thrill down my spine:
“Is this a lasting treasure?/ Or just a moment’s pleasure?/ Can I believe the magic of your sighs?/ Will you still love me tomorrow?”
Yep. Many of us developed our stage-craft because of the Carlton Belles and Barnsley Buskers. We owe them a lot.
