^the Corsairs

 

From: "Humble Will Teach"
Subject: Shocking CORSAIRS news!
Date: Sunday, October 16, 2005 3:29 PM

Ta get offa this list, send a e-mail (hit "raply", an' not "raply all", 'cause no one else cares what you do) with tha word "unsubscribe" in tha subject line. Er just change yer e-mail address an' don't tell me. Er let yer box fill up so's it can't take any more messages. Er set yer spam-filter fer anythin' from corsairs.com. Er let this message bounce back ta me. Them methods has been known ta work, too.

Ahoy, ya rough and handsome lot. 'Umble Will Teach here ta tell ya a' some Corsairs news that's bound ta displease some folks. I'm gonna drop tha vernacular (that's a doiby, fer tha Curly fans) so's I don't have ta think sa much whilst I'm writin'.

Ahem, this is Kevin. The big fella with the ukulele. Aw come on, you know. Stage right? That's me. And now, the news.

Wow. It's been a wild ride. Some of you may not realize that The Corsairs have just completed our 10th year as a performing group. Now, 10 years is a long time. The Beatles didn't last 10 years. The Stones still manage to plug away, but none of The Corsairs have a knighthood to keep us propped up (uh, Liz . . . hel-looo?).

We began as humble cast members at Scarborough Faire, slaving each day for the princely sum of bupkiss. Our shows were scattered far and yon, and we ranged the grounds of the faire with the simple mission of entertaining anyone who would sit and listen. (I once toyed with the idea of having a baseball jersey made, with "The Corsairs" in elegant script across the front, and the number "9" on the back, for "the same 9 songs over and over and over") At the last show of our second season, I audaciously placed my hat upon the edge of the stage, hoping to solicit a dollar or two from the fans who obviously appreciated us. Ron Boulden, Scarborough's entertainment director at that time, suddenly appeared at that show and looked askance at the hat, as though he wasn't sure what he was seeing. We all just knew we were busted. It was to our great relief that Ron dismissed our fears, and said it was no big deal; we deserved something extra for all our hard work. (A note for the historians: We didn't get any tips that day anyway)

A year or two later, we became what the Renaissance community refers to as "masquers". We were getting paid, we were released from having to participate in Faire workshops, and we were responsible for making our own show stage-worthy (on our own time, of course). I am proud to say that we did a bang-up job. We were a great success: we were given our own stage, along with a set schedule. At last, we were allowed to solicit tips.

Our success came at a price, however. We worked harder than I could ever have imagined. We began rehearsing at least weekly (often 2 or 3 times a week; and year-round, as well). We began making our own recordings, negotiating contracts, registering our business, paying taxes, working up new material, and hiring arrangers (well, arranger). Luckily, soon our appeal translated into other venues. We traveled to other renaissance faires, as well as began performing in nightclub settings. In an effort to expand our empire, we began marketing other Corsairs memorabilia, such as T-shirts, bumperstickers, shot glasses, and tattoos. (We never got around to the Corsairs shower-sandals.)

As all good things do, however, The Corsairs As The World Knew It was destined to come to an end. Our brother Gregg (also known as Jenkins, The Shantyman) ventured off on his own. I'm not sure how his career worked out, because I haven't had the opportunity to talk with him in a long while, but I have seen him hard at work, strumming his guitar and singing his soulful songs of the sea at Scarborough Faire.

Robbie (a.k.a. Boats) took some time off to return to school. He's a nurse now, so if any of you big hairy fellas out there ever have the urgent need for a sponge-bath or a blood-letting, Robbie's your man.

The remaining four of us soldiered on. We received acclaim that The Corsairs were better than ever. Suddenly it appeared that 4 voices made the harmonies clearer than they were before. 4 voices were easier to distinguish than 6, and while The Corsairs of old were remarkable, The Corsairs of new were an unrivaled ensemble.

We continued to perform at Scarborough and other faires. We flew in airplanes, and we rented cars. We stayed in nice hotels, and we stayed in places where there was spray-painted graffiti on the walls and the carpets smelled of urine. We went to 9 AM morning meetings when our first show wasn't until after Noon. We received a standing ovation from a cast that was glad to have us, and we received stares from a cast that turned in their seats with puzzled looks on their faces. We performed at faires where the first show held four in the audience, and the last show held 200. We amazed that Sunday sales always blew Saturday's away. (Scott remembers being absolutely swamped with buyers at Sunday's closing gate at Colorado; we weren't scheduled to perform at Sunday's closing gate, and we did anyway after the director begged us.) We endured hardships (spending the night in the Atlanta airport after watching our connecting flight back away from the gate) and enjoyed great times. Along the way we met some real bastards and some genuine friends.

I hope I've conveyed a sense of what it's like to be a Corsair. There's an awful lot of work involved, more than I could have imagined. There's also a nice reward. I managed to pay off my son's orthodontia with the fruits of our labors. Although I don't ask my bandmates how they spend their pay, I'm sure they also could cite small monetary rewards from this job. We damn sure aren't getting rich from being The Corsairs, but at least we haven't been working for free for the last eight years.

We put out 8 albums in 7 years, and I challenge you to name any act anywhere that has done that. (I'm very proud of the fact that all the artwork, save "the Red one" was done by me.) We merchandised a few other things, as I have mentioned, in the small hopes of increasing our share of the after-tax pay just a little. We appeared in pubs, so that we could experience what it's like to perform in regular clothes and not costumes. We've even played in a church, if you can believe that.

And above it all floats the image of you. Yes, you. Our fans make the whole thing worthwhile. Look at it this way; if we didn't have a mostly full audience at the start of a show, and if we didn't get applause, and if people didn't ask for autographs, and if no one approached to say what a fine job we did with ________ (name a song), and if some unknowing soul didn't profess her love for ________(name a song) and then express her amazement that I wrote it, why would we do this? Surely not for the $1000 or so that we collect each year for our own pockets.

So, with all the foregoing in mind, The Corsairs have chosen this time to make this announcement. And it's not as bad as you might have feared. The Corsairs have chosen to take a year off from performing.

Robbie's back, but he's not yet "up to speed" with everything we've accomplished in the past 2 years without him. Scott's schedule prohibits weekday rehearsals (if anyone can offer a job to a Doctor of Chemistry that will keep him local, email captain dot morgan at corsairs dot com) B.J. needs to take a year off to get certifications and whatnot that will allow him to achieve better and more gainful employment. I need to get my voice back into shape following my tribulations of the past 10 months. David? Well, he's patiently sitting on the sidelines waiting for the rest of us to get our act(s) together. Ah, the virtues of being landed gentry!

We're not quitting. We'll still be rehearsing and working up new material. We're just not going to appear in public as The Corsairs until 2007 or so. We won't be at Scarborough Faire in 2006, so don't call their office and demand to know why we were dropped. We weren't dropped. Coy (many of you know him) has expressed his disappointment, yet he is completely understanding of our situation, and that is one of the many reasons we love him. "Sometimes people need some time off", is the way he put it, I believe. He has assured us that we will be welcomed back with open arms, so don't hassle him, capisce? Same goes for the other faire directors. If they have not been informed of our decision, they soon will be. (Of course, a call saying "I miss the Corsairs" wouldn't hurt, just to let the directors know we are expected back)

Let the flood of Corsairs love begin, I say.

Kevin

Aka Humble Will Teach (y'arr and all that)