C'mon, Follow The Geordie Boys!

Grumpy Git Productions presents The Jarrow Crusade. First things first - a short history lesson is required as background to the song. So pay attention, as there will be a short test afterwards.

This is but a brief synopsis to explain the lyrics of the song and various elements placed into the film, but it is well worth reading about in more detail elsewhere.Jarrow is located on the River Tyne, six miles east of Newcastle. At one point it was one of the main parts of the U.K for shipbuilding, and with the likes of Palmers and the mercantile docks, there was plenty of work to go around.

After many years of prosperity, work in the town started to decline, and by 1936 three out of every four men were unemployed, with the consequent social effects on their families and the communities. The town had the second highest infant mortality rate in the country. The town folk eventually decided that enough was enough, so on the morning of 13th October 1936, two hundred men set off from the town hall on a march to London to deliver a petition in protest of the situation. They were led by the then M.P of Jarrow, Miss Ellen Wilkinson. That certainly wouldn’t happen now ....

In 1936 the benefit rules were very different from the handout culture of today. Should a man be unavailable for work the Government stopped any benefits to the family - so when the men went off on the march, the women left behind had nothing to feed themselves or their children with. Nonetheless, those involved felt that the sacrifice had to be made, as it was the only way to try and build hope for the future. During the march, if word of a job reached one of the marchers he would have to leave the march and go to wherever the job was. The marchers covered 280 miles in 22 stages on their way to London.

A life-sized bronze statue to commemorate the 65th anniversary of the march was unveiled in 2001. It shows two marchers, two children, a woman carrying a baby and a dog, which was the mascot. They are all walking out of the ribs of a ship, carrying a banner. Local residents named the statue The Spirit of Jarrow, and unlike most modern sculptures commissioned these days, it is a dignified and fitting tribute to the Crusade.

So here I present Alan Price performing The Jarrow Song, with new film footage created by GG Productions. Enjoy!

Creating The Film

In my previous post, I mentioned how the idea of a follow up to Big River came about. I wanted to produce a video that revolved around a similar idea of past and present in the North East, but it would need to be presented in a different way so as to not to appear to be just a copy. The Jarrow Song was ideal to work with – whereas in Big River the melody picks you up and rolls along at a steady pace, Jarrow has more changes of gear than Stig on the Top Gear track. It was an interesting concept, and I set to work.

Musical Arrangement

The song is quite complex and features a number of different sections. The introduction and first two verses are traditional brass band marching style, known technically in music circles as oompah-oompah. This set the tone for the narrative about the cry for men to join the march, and the support from their wives and families.

After the second chorus the song changes dramatically, as the tempo increases to a rock beat (known as twangin’) and the lyrics compare the past with the present:

Well I can hear them,
an' I can feel them
An' it's as just as if they were here today
I can see them
I can feel them
An' I'm thinking nothing's changed much today
Not all came here to stay their way and die
But they would come and hit you in the eye
Now's the time to realize that time goes on
Nothin' changes, changes, changes ...

There then follows a long instrumental section led by violins, which is played fast and light – from the diddly-diddly-dee school of music. The diddly-diddly-dee then fades into some more oompah-oompah for the last verse and chorus, before another passage of instrumental diddly-diddly-dee that morphs into some final rock twangin’ and the final fade. I hope you don’t feel overwhelmed by all technical musical jargon used here.

Into The Editing Suite

The changes of pace and tempo provided plenty of opportunities to try out different effects to complement the track and emphasise the overall atmosphere of the song. I began with a lovely scene from Beamish created with the help of the friendly tram conductor. In the background you can hear a little girl saying ‘Bye!’ as the conductor rings the bell and the tram departs – a nice touch. The first verse is made up of scene setting images from the 1930’s; watch the little girl in the park scene as she falls over and picks herself up – delightful mannerisms! This park scene was used in Big River, although it was cut down for timing and aged. It is such a pleasant scene that I broke my rule about using footage twice and placed it here where it shows up more clearly and for a longer period – there’s plenty to view here.

In the second verse I used the industries of the day – coalmines, shipyards, engines and railways – to illustrate the traditional, but declining, employment of the time. Each time the chorus begins – ‘C’mon, follow the Geordie boys…’ I used the Jarrow statue as it defines the spirit of the march.

As the song moves from the past to the present, the tempo increases and I needed a changeover point that would be visually effective to clearly show the changes between then and now. A coalmine represented the past, whilst the striking university with it’s imposing height and sharp edges points the way forward into the future. Well, it does if you can afford the tuition fees.

The song is now moving rapidly through the twangin’ section, and the lyrics are all about the changes on Tyneside. This was the place to get creative, as I needed constantly moving film to keep up with the beat. When you’re filming inanimate objects, such as buildings or politicians, creating movement can be tricky. For that reason I went for big, imposing structures that define the area and shot them at dramatic angles, before cutting them into short clips so that there would be no lingering looks at anything. Even then I wasn’t happy with the section, because it lacked sufficient impact and movement. The answer came with pop video transitional effects between the clips – these really emphasise the directional changes and add enough motion to give the whole piece a feeling of momentum. It also leaves you feeling giddy and seasick, but you must suffer for my art.

During the planning of the video, I had an idea of roughly what sort of footage I was after for most sections. But the violins’ diddly-diddly-dee bit had me stumped. I just couldn’t picture any scenes that would work, especially as they needed to be present day. Fortunately, the boat cruise up the Tyne solved that problem, as I was able to use the footage from Newcastle Quays and the return trip under the Millennium Bridge to create a nice effect and a smooth transition back to the past and oompah-oompah time.

The final verse was shot at Beamish and Ryhope, before the difficult task of working out an ending. I’d hit on the idea of the Metro belting over the bridge and into the tunnel as a perfect end to this scene, hence my obsession with bagging that front seat for filming! Most attempts at this didn’t work – either the window was too dirty and the sun reflected off it, or the train was lurching around so much that I filmed the ceiling, the floor and teenagers texting the teenager sitting next to them. It was frustrating, but eventually I managed it, purely by luck. The views from the side of the train had been filmed back in August, so they could be joined up to create one journey.

This still left me with a missing link – joining the last chorus to the diddly-diddly-dee and twangin’ finale (and merging the past with the present). I decided to extend the Metro section backwards, and shoot a train leaving Jarrow station. A steam train would provide the link between transport around Tyneside, then and now. This was stock footage from my Nene Valley library that now has quite a bit of useful historical footage available!

Overall, this has turned out well – better than expected, to be honest. The last trip to the North East provided some absolute gems of material, and I feel that this is sufficiently different to Big River to release as a film in its own right. Just a pity that I couldn’t work the Byker Wall into the final edit … but hang on, what’s that on the horizon …?