Mikefule

Midlands Concertina Group met today in Arnold, Nottingham (UK). We meet twice a year. This time, there were 22 present, 20 of whom played. Instruments ranged from a bass Anglo with a bottom note so low I could feel it in your fingertips when I played it, but not actually hear it, down to my little Marcus Traveller 21 button Anglo. There were plenty of Anglos from 20 buttons upwards, English concertinas, and 3 different duets: a Hayden, a Crane, and a Jeffries. So, setting aside details like the number of buttons, there were 5 different systems of concertina there. Most people played solo, with some inviting the rest to join in if they wanted. There was one duo with some rehearsed arrangements, and our regular in house trio, Behind the Times. Not, as I once called them "Out of Time". Oops. Music played ranged from Irish jigs and hornpipes played as a single fluid line of melody, Northumbrian and Scottish tunes, Morris tunes played in both "melody only" and "harmonic" styles, some eastern European and Russian tunes, some French and Belgian music, and various "popular" tunes. One of those present even sang as he played. Before and after the interval, we worked together on some simple ensemble work. We now have a Facebook page: Midlands Concertina Group. Look us up and follow us, please. The group is very informal, with no constitution, committee, or any of that stuff. We meet twice a year in or near Nottingham. We have a short newsletter circulated by email or post, whichever you prefer. Anyone interested in concertinas is welcome, whether or not they play.

I received my brand new Marcus Traveller in late June 2023. I deliberately gave it a month or so before starting to write a review as I wanted the “new to wear off”. Since then, I have been playing it so much that I have been too busy to complete the review I started in August. Well, that’s my excuse, anyway. Myself and my experience I do not consider myself to be an Anglo expert, but a reasonably experienced player who works hard at it. I have been playing Anglo since about 2007. I own or have owned (in no particular order) a Rochelle 30b, Lachenal 20b, Lachenal 20b piccolo, Lachenal 30b baritone, MARCUS Deluxe 30b, Jeffries 38(?)button in Bb/F and a Dipper 30b. I play mainly Morris music and popular folk tunes in harmonic style. I also play some tunes as mainly a single line of melody in an across row style. I sometimes play short passages in simple parallel octaves. I never miss an opportunity to try someone else's concertina, and I estimate that I have played at least one tune on each of about 30 Anglos. I have plenty to compare the Traveller to. I have always liked the idea of getting the most out of the minimum in many areas of life. In the context of the Anglo, this means that I developed a fascination with what could be achieved on the basic 20 button layout. The simple 2-row Anglo is at the heart of what the Anglo is all about. It imposes limitations and challenges, but these very limitations are what gives it its distinctive sound. Undeniably, more buttons will give you more versatility, and some tunes simply will not fit on a 20b. However, to my mind, the extra versatility of 30b or more buttons must be balanced against the purity and simplicity of the 20b. If I could only have one concertina, it would not be a 20b, but I regard these simpler concertinas as an important part of my enjoyment of the instrument. Background to choosing the Traveller A few years ago, I traded my beautiful Jeffries (B flat/F) for a baritone Anglo and a piccolo Anglo. I had wanted a baritone for many years. Sadly, the reality has not met the expectation and I seldom play it. However, it’s fair to say that the Jeffries seldom got played outside the house because of the keys. (Morris music is commonly played in G or D.) As part of the same trade, I also acquired a 20b Lachenal piccolo, which was a bit of a novelty. For a couple of years, I hardly played it and I regretted getting it. Then, one day, I realised that it was the ideal size to carry in a backpack. When I drive to work, I park and cycle the last couple of miles. I got into the habit of parking and playing for 15 minutes on the piccolo Anglo. I would then take it to the office with me to avoid the risk of leaving it in the car. However, undeniably, a 20b piccolo Anglo has its limits. Yes, you can play in 2 major keys, but one of 'em is very squeaky indeed! Which got me thinking about the Marcus Traveller. The Traveller is almost exactly the same size as the piccolo (it won't quite fit in the piccolo's box) and it has wooden ends, which I always prefer. I knew Marcus instruments to be decent quality, so the temptation developed to have a brand new, easily portable box, in a more civilised register than the piccolo. I had been exchanging emails with Marcus Music for several months before I finally placed the order in December 2022. I was given a lead time of around 6 months, and with no deposit to pay. Dave Cox always answered my emails promptly and clearly and he was a pleasure to deal with. Around the 6 months mark, I sent a brief reminder and the work started on my box soon after that. Marcus keep the customer updated on the progress of the build and send photographs. This gives you a sense of ownership, seeing your own personal box in its embryonic stages. They also tend to post photos of the build on the Facebook page for publicity purposes. Eventually, they told me that the box was ready. They sent me an invoice, I was able to pay online, and the instrument was despatched to me. I was kept informed of the process and was able to track the order all the way to delivery. It arrived well packaged and protected. It was about 7 months from placing the order to the Traveller arriving. The Traveller So what do you get for the money? A beautifully made wooden-ended concertina with metal buttons. It is just a tad over 5" (127mm) across the flats. It has 21 buttons. The single accidental button equates to the first button on the righthand accidental row on a 30 button. The purist in me would have preferred a plain 20 buttons, but the extra one is doing no harm, and I confess I have used it a couple of times. Certainly, for people who play mainly a single line of melody, that button will be useful. In a harmonic style, perhaps less so. The Traveller comes in a standard-sized padded Fuselli gig bag. This is of course too big for the Traveller, but it would obviously be uneconomical to get bags specially made when the Traveller only sells in limited numbers. Marcus deal with this very nicely by including a lined drawstring bag and also a Marcus-branded bellows protector cloth to drape over your knee. With the instrument in the drawstring bag, inside the gig bag, and with the bellows protector as extrapadding, everything sits snuggly and the bellows stay closed. Nice attention to detail: the gig bag comes with a leather tag bearing the Marcus logo and stamped with the owner’s name. They have done everything to make the owner feel that they are getting an instrument that has been made with care and attention to detail. The Traveller comes as standard with plain black bellows papers on 7-fold bellows. My experience with my old Marcus Deluxe was that it took some months for the new, creaky, bellows to play in. However, the Traveller was "good to go" from day one. The bellows are silky smooth and a pleasure to use. It really is “night and day” compared to my previous Marcus. The first time I opened the Traveller bellows, it felt like I had been playing it for years. The metal buttons are nicely spaced and it is easy for me to play three adjacent buttons or a close triangle without my fingers getting in the way of each other. The small size does not translate into "fiddly to play". In fact, I’ve just done some very quick work with a tape measure and the rows and buttons are almost the same spacing as on my standard-sized Lachenal 20b. The individual buttons are narrower, but the spacing is very similar. My memory of my old Marcus Deluxe is that it was quite "clicky": a lot of mechanical noise from the action. (Note, I believe they have upgraded the design since I bought that one, so this is not a criticism of their current Deluxe model.) By contrast, the Traveller action is almost silent, the only extraneous noise, being the pads closing over the holes. It oozes quality and is a joy to play. Part of me loves the cheap and cheerful charming clickity clack character of my century-old Lachenal 20b, but the Traveller is undoubtedly a far smoother, quieter, and more luxurious instrument to play. The tone of the reeds is clear and pure, almost bell like. If loudness is your thing, then have no doubt that the "tiny" Traveller is more than a match for a "full size" Anglo. Maybe it is a little less capable of subtle dynamics, but part of that may be me getting used to the instrument. Thinking about the Traveller led me to draw a distinction between "quality" and "specification". In terms of specification, it might be thought fairly basic. As far as I can tell, it is polished plywood rather than veneered. The reeds are not in little individual shoes slotted into chamfered grooves like on a traditional box, they are on plates. However, the quality of craftsmanship is excellent, with exceptional attention to detail, and it feels like a far more expensive instrument than it actually is. Weights and Measures: The Traveller has 21 metal buttons, 7 fold bellows, reeds on plates, weighs 974 grammes and is about 129 mm across the flats. For comparison: My Lachenal 20b piccolo has 20 bone buttons, 6 fold bellows, traditional reeds, weighs 696 grammes and is about 127 mm across the flats. My Lachenal 20b standard Anglo has 20 bone buttons, 5 fold bellows, traditional reeds, weighs 989 grammes, and is about 158 mm across the flats. My Dipper 30b has 30 “plastic”? buttons, 7 fold bellows, traditional reeds, weighs 1,325 grammes and is about 162 mm across the flats. The measurements are only approximate because I was being cautious not to scratch the ends with a metal tape. The weights are the instruments only, measured on digital scales. All weights measurements in metric. Feel free to do your own conversions into bushels, pecks, and cubits. Summary: The Marcus Traveller is a beautifully made box that plays very nicely indeed. It comes as a well thought-out package from an established manufacturer who have shown themselves to be reliable and friendly to deal with. It is heavy for its size, the weight accounted for by the metal buttons, 7 fold bellows, and the way that the reeds are mounted. It is nevertheless a tad lighter than my Lachenal box which only has 20 buttons and 5 fold bellows. Playing: The novelty has not worn off. I still play it almost every day. It is about 50/50 whether I pick up the Traveller or the Dipper for a practice session. Playing in C is not ideal for after Morris sessions, so this has pushed me to transpose the fingerings for some tunes to G. This has not only made me a better player, but I find that playing in G an octave above other concertinas in the room makes it far easier to hear what I am playing. When I play my Dipper in G in a crowded room, sometimes I literally cannot hear what I am playing. That said, I have never been a keen session player. The instrument is optimised for taking to places. It is easy to conceal in a parked car, and small and light enough to carry in a small backpack when walking or cycling. It also fits into one of my standard dry bags and goes safely into the stern locker of my sailing dinghy. It really is a “traveller” by nature as well as by name. Not everyone will want a 21 button Anglo in CG, but if you are already considering getting a nice 20 button Anglo, I heartily recommend the Marcus Traveller.

Thanks to those who responded. The reed shoe was indeed nipping the reed. After several attempts myself, I took it to a friend who repairs free reed instruments and plays concertinas. He also owns various Dippers and says that around the time mine and his were made (1980s) the clearances for the reeds were very close. He has had similar problems with his own Dippers. His cure was to take a tiny amount of brass away from the inside of the shoe, and also to use a paper shim. I learned much as I watched him. All sorted now.

Hi, all, A few days ago, the D push reed on the D row of my Dipper started to sound off. I took it out, checked it for obstructions and put it back in. It took 2 goes but it now sounds OK. A day or two later, the F# on the adjacent button very suddenly stopped sounding and started to squeak like a party tooter. This is a Dipper, with traditional reeds in small brass shoes, individually slotted into channels or sockets in the edge of the reed pan. I have had the reed out several times and done the following: Checked it for hairs and other obstructions, including sliding a piece of kitchen foil under the reed. Held it to the light to check that it is not touching the reed frame/shoe Blown through it orally and heard it sound cleanly. Checked that the action is working cleanly and the pad is sealing. Checked that the valve is not sticking or creased. Checked that the slot in the reed pan is not obstructed. Checked that the reed shoe is neither forced in too tightly nor sitting too loosely in the socket in the reed pan. Each time, I have put the end back on with care, and the reed is still squawking rather than sounding cleanly. Any ideas, please? I'm at my wits' end.

The Anglo wasn't invented fully formed, with a specific technique in mind. It was developed and modified until some sort of standard layouts became the norm. In parallel with this, various playing styles developed. Some were developed for simplicity, some for sophistication, some for smooth, some for bouncy. Particularly in Irish music, some of those styles appear to have become orthodoxies. It even seems that the competing "methods" are brands promoted by some teachers. Of course, a well developed method taught by an experienced musician will work. However, that does not mean it is the only way the instrument can be played. We each might have a preferred shape of pasta, and some might be more suitable for certain recipes, but there is no "best" pasta shape. A good musician is constantly learning new ways to play phrases and tunes. There is an interesting interview with Keith Richards on the BBC website in which he talks about the fascination of relearning guitar as age and arthritis take their toll. He emphasises that music is a constant process of experimentation and learning. Bruce Lee famously said "Absorb what is useful, discard what is useless, and add what is specifically your own." Good advice for a musician too. When I play Irish, I find my preferred technique is to find triplets, arpeggios and bars, sometimes whole phrases, which fall easily to hand in the same bellows direction. It aids fluidity. When I play Morris, I tend to play a more push pull style, but there are no absolute rules.

"The only difference is the button layout." Nope, they are fundamentally different instruments that happen to bear a passing resemblance. The violin and guitar are both stringed instruments with a broad shallow body and a long neck with tuning pegs, but the resemblance ends there. The Anglo is heavily biased towards a small subset of closely related keys. Even the ones that have loads and loads of extra buttons are not fully chromatic across their entire range; that is, some of the accidentals only appear once even though the instrument covers several octaves. Each button produces two notes, one on the draw and one on the push. Some notes are duplicated. At first sight, there is no "logical" arrangement to the buttons, but the more you play, the more you realise that each one is in "just the right place". The Anglo follows the internal logic of music, rather than the abstract logic of mathematics. The rows are orientated more or less vertically when the instrument is being held. The low notes are on the bottom left, and the high notes are on the bottom right. The Anglo has hand straps which pass over the back of the hand, and these are essential to be able to play it. (Ignoring small novelty instruments with very few buttons.) The English is designed almost completely logically. You get one note per button, whether it is push or pull. It is completely chromatic. The rows are orientated more or less horizontally when the instrument is being played. The English has a thumb strap and a "pinky rest" and is usually played without straps across the back of the hands. The most distinctive aspect of the English is that a simple major scale alternates between left hand and right hand, with the lower notes towards the player and the higher notes further away. There are several very different systems of duet, so it is misleading to think of "the duet" in the same way as we think of "the Anglo" or "the English." Duet players no doubt have their reasons for preferring one system over another. Duets are designed to be almost a portable piano, with the layout enabling a full and rich accompaniment to any melody. As I understand it, the compass of the left hand overlaps the compass of the right hand which allows a whole load of musical opportunities not available on Anglo or English. As a general rule, it is difficult to swap between the systems. However, it is not impossible. A few people play Anglo and English regularly. I know someone who plays English, but also plays melodeon, which has some similarities in layout to an Anglo. If you play two systems of concertina, I suspect the trick is to see them as two completely different instruments and ignore the superficial similarities. From my personal experience, I tried hard and failed with the English, and took to the Anglo fairly easily. However, I had some experience with harmonica and melodeon which share the layout of the main two rows of an Anglo.

When I was first thinking of getting a concertina, I spent a lot of time trying to get my head around the differences and the strengths and weaknesses of the Anglo and English systems. (Apologies to the duet players: you were not on my radar at the time.) I remember posting here words to the effect that it seemed like Anglo players pump the music out of their instruments, and English players just press the buttons and let it pour out. This was not a criticism of EC players, but a way of trying to describe the fluidity and soft expressiveness that is possible with the instrument. I became aware that the accepted wisdom is that Anglo is rhythmic and good for dancing and Irish, and English is more legato but "harder to dance to". However, my actual experience of listening and dancing is that the most important variable is the musician. Keith Kendrick can pump a tune and accompaniment out of an EC so that you'd really think it was an Anglo. I have learned many of the cross row "routes through the maze" on an Anglo that allow a legato approach to whole phrases. My Morris side has an EC player who combines lift and flow in such a way that it is a joy to dance to. We also have a former member who has played EC for us many times who is every bit as good. Elsewhere, I remember reading similar debates where advocates of acoustic guitars argued that the electric guitar is "incapable of expression". (No doubt that came as a surprise to B B King!) When I was trying to choose whether to play Anglo or English, my head told me EC because it is fully chromatic and laid out logically. I borrowed one for a month and could barely get music out of it. I then picked up an Anglo, it made sense, and the more I play it, the more sense it makes. It is for others to judge whether I play "expressively". Perhaps the truth is that no instrument is "expressive". An instrument is a conduit for the musician's expressiveness. That is why there are a few excellent bodhran players, many proficient players, and some who just make a banging noise. I think if I were to try EC now, and work at it as hard as I worked at Anglo, I could probably make it work. I understand music more now than I did then. With Anglo, my first objective was to start crossing the rows for a purpose. With English, it would be to learn the bellows control to put the phrasing and lift into the tunes. As with the piano accordion, it is possible to play long passages on the EC without changing bellows direction. However, the best players are those who deliberately choose when to do this, and when to play with short chopping movements of the bellows.

Glad you sorted it. It seems counterintuitive at first, but a reed starts to work by allowing the air to push it into the slot. Think of the air pushing a slightly ajar door closed, rather than pushing a slightly ajar door open. When you are squeezing the bellows, the air is coming out of the ends of the instrument, and the "squeeze reeds" are the ones where the reed plates or shoes are mounted with the reeds facing the inside. It takes a little effort to get your head round at first. Coincidentally, I had just been resolving a "suddenly silent push reed" on my Lachenal Piccolo before logging onto this forum.

Interesting. I started on a 30, then for a while had a 38(?) and now I play as much on my 20b Lachenal or 21b Marcus Traveller as I do on my 30b Dipper. I too have a preference for minimalist solutions (fixed wheel bike, unicycle, balanced lug dinghy, air cooled motorbike...) and as I have become a more experienced player, I have really enjoyed the challenge of getting more out of 20 buttons. The 20b Anglo is a very versatile instrument. That said, there is no doubt that a 30b is even more versatile, whether you play melody only, or harmonic style, or both. I don't see a particular advantage or disadvantage to having 26 buttons rather than 30. There are plenty of 30s around. In real life, some of those buttons seldom or never get used, depending on your repertoire and style of playing, of course. If I were in your position, wanting to "move up" from a 20, I would be guided by how the instrument feels in the hands and how it sounds rather than being dogmatic about the number of buttons. Looking specifically for a 24 or 26 may mean that you miss many of the very nice 30b instruments that are out there.

No idea what it's called, but it's nicely played. Try typing the note names for the first 2 or 3 bars into here: folk tune finder

Yes, "fake" = "counterfeit" and entails a deliberate element of falseness. If someone made a copy of a Jeffries, and included Jeffries branding or marks, and tried to make it look the appropriate age, that would be a fake. A cheap and cheerless mass produced item with no attempt at passing it off as an established brand is not a fake.

The air button is the hardest button to use on the Anglo at first. Then suddenly, it stops being a problem. The change may happen after a few weeks or months. Have your straps very slightly loose. Put your 4 fingers through the strap, and your thumb on the outside of the strap. The strap should pass across the back of your hand. Pulling your thumb in sideways towards your hand will then take some of the slack out of the strap. You can also brace and arch your hand to take up some of the slack. Reverse these moves to allow slack when your fingers need to reach the less accessible buttons. The air button should be tapped with the outside of your thumb. You should very seldom need to hold it down for long: just a quick tap timed to fit a suitable part of the musical phrase. The longer you've been playing, the easier and more intuitive this becomes. Also, the longer you've been playing, the less often you will need the air button. Beginners tend to play slowly, and to hold the buttons down for longer than necessary. Therefore, they need more air, and the bellows reach their fully open or fully closed position sooner/more often. An experienced player tends to play a little faster (although speed is not an objective in itself) and will usually clip most of the notes, leaving more "daylight" between the notes. Also, they will know more routes around the keyboard, The combined effect is to use less air, and therefore the air button is needed less often.

It's a strangely fascinating instrument. Only yesterday I discovered a new and better fingering for a tune I learned several years ago. What other instrument gives you that?

I very occasionally give lessons. A while ago, I had someone approach me to learn "from scratch". He was a singer, but had never played an instrument. I always invite any prospective student to visit me, and we spend an hour (no charge) chatting and seeing whether what I can offer is what they are looking for. I got on well with this chap. When he said, with alarm in his voice, "I won't have to do scales will I?" I should have turned him away there and then. However, I thought I could get him to include scales by introducing tunes to him that included phrases up and down the scale. With hindsight, it was predictable that he never once practised between lessons - he always had a good excuse, of course - and he never learned a single tune. To some extent, I regret continuing to give him lessons, but I did my best. Before I discovered Anglo, I played at various instruments but never had any sort of structured practice regime. When I bought my first Anglo, I made a commitment to set off as I meant to carry on, took lessons and practised. It is the only way to make progress.

If you're playing alone. Pretend it's CG. The tunes will work with the same fingering, but will be transposed from C or G to D or A. Anglo is often played as a transposing instrument in this way.

To say there are "no wrong notes" is simplistic. There are of course some notes that break all the written and unwritten rules of harmony, sound awful to everyone, and clash with any other instruments that are playing at the same time. This may be more true in some forms of music (for example, brass band) and less true in other forms (for example, free jazz.) Many concertina players have a folk/traditional background. Two things about folk/traditional music: It is about conventional form and structure rather than innovation, but... It is about participation rather than perfection. The fear of playing a wrong note should not be an obstacle to playing at all, but that should not be the same as being complacent about bum notes. And yes, occasionally, you find a note that doesn't seem to fit according to the conventional rules of composition and harmony, but nevertheless sounds good. Music that exactly fits the formula: metronomic beat, perfect note duration, predictable harmonies with perfectly correct passing notes, can be predictable and bland. A note of tension that is resolved can add flavour. It was the little burned bits on the top of my grandmother's bread and butter pudding that made it taste better than the blandly homogenous ones I can buy in the supermarket.

Funny thing is that when great musicians/singers/performers like Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins, got together for a live show, they sang the simple songs they knew and loved: I Saw the Light, May the Circle Be Unbroken, I Fly Away. There was no sense of these being "only" simple songs, or trivial. Similarly with many great jazz musicians: When the Saints, and so on. Many (but not all) Morris tunes are simple to learn, but the skill is in playing them well. Simplicity plus talent and passion can make great music. Complexity is no more a guarantee of great music than is the raw speed you find in some sessions.

There should be such a word. Some tunes just sit comfortably on the (Anglo) concertina and some were apparently designed to be difficult for the sake of it. It is presumably the same for English and duet systems. "Tinaphilic"? ("Anglican" is already taken.)

I agree to some extent with Simon's point that boring and childlike tunes can be off-putting for some new musicians. However, there is definitely a place for them. Some people come to concertina with a background in playing other instruments. They may already have a repertoire that they know and understand and can translate to a new instrument with relative ease. For these people, learning concertina is like learning to drive a different type of vehicle from the one they are used to. They already know the rules of the road, and the basics of steering, braking and so on. They have skills they can apply. Some people come to concertina with no experience of playing an instrument, but with a good background knowledge of a particular genre of music. They know what Dingle Regatta, or Princess Royal, or Gathering Peascods sounds like, even if they cannot yet play it. For these people, learning concertina is like taking driving lessons after many years of being a passenger in cars. They are aware of many of the rules of the road, and they know more or less what driving should feel and sound like. They have a head start. However, some others come to the instrument with no experience of playing, and a very limited experience of listening. They may well have been bewildered by badly-taught music lessons at school, and intimidated by hearing highly skilled musicians playing complex music at high speed. For these people, learning concertina may feel like wanting to learn to ride a bicycle and being handed the keys to a Honda Fireblade. They have none of the skills, background, or "understanding by osmosis" that might give them the confidence to climb into the saddle. For this third category, being shown how to play something simple but easily recognisable from their childhood may be a big step towards gaining the confidence to try something more difficult. It helps to learn a tune if you can already confidently hum or whistle it. For some people, that means Hot Cross Buns, or Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, or When the Saints, or Oh Susannah, or Red River Valley. Once they know that they can make the instrument work, the next step to a simple "trad" tune such as Winster Gallop will be less intimidating. There is another distinction. Some concertinists, on Anglo or English, aim to play a single line of melody: playing the concertina as a fiddle or flute. Although technique, touch, and nuance take a long time to develop, it is a fairly simple thing to learn to press the buttons and move the bellows in the right sequence to learn a basic tune. It may well be that case that something like Hot Cross Buns is too trivial for many, or even most, new musicians in this style, although not all. Others (including probably all or most duet players) play melody and accompaniment, treating the concertina as a "thinking man's piano". They need to learn the complex motor skills to coordinate the "independent" movement of left and right hand. "Independent" in quotes because, of course, the accompaniment is linked structurally to the melody. Learning to accompany a melody may well start with the 3 chord trick, played underneath a simple and intuitive melody such as Hot Cross Buns. Later, that 3 chord trick can be applied to more complex melody, and the 4 chord trick and 5 chord trick can be introduced. However, as a starting point, having the simplest and most trivial of melodies will free processing power for the complex skill of coordinating the accompaniment.

Definitely, within every level, there are instruments that are easier or more difficult to play. When I chose my Lachenal 20b, I played 6 and the choice was very clear to me. Since then, I have played several others and only found one better. This was nothing to do with overall condition or specification. Just some played more nicely than others. When I bought my Dipper GD, I tried several quality GD instruments including one other Dipper The decision was easy to make as one played so much better than the others. I have played several Normans, and found them all cheerful boxes to play but some more difficult than others. However, one of the finest players I ever knew swore by one specific Irish maker (I won't mention the name) and had 2 or 3 of their boxes. I could barely get a tune out of them, and hated them, but he could play them far better than I willever play my own box. So, while there is considerable variation within makes and "price points", there is also the danger of the bad workman blaming his tools. I have taken the big step recently of ordering a box unseen. I trust the manufacturer, but I have to accept the risk that I will be disappointed with the result. I prefer to try before I buy.

It would be a pity to give up, but not necessarily wrong. There is no law that says that once you have started concertina, you are committed to it for life. It may, or may not, be the instrument for you. Before "finding" Anglo concertina, I played harmonica (fairly well), melodeon (not very well), and tried piano, guitar, fife (albeit briefly), drums (I had lessons for several months), and English concertina (I couldn't make head nor tail of it). I began to find harmonica boring after a few years. I never fell in love with melodeon, even thought it was the obvious choice: I am Morris dancer. However, there is something about the Anglo that just works for me, even though many people see it as a similar sort of thing to the melodeon. Since I started playing Anglo, I have owned various 30 button instruments, one 38 button, and a couple of 20 button instruments, and I am finding myself more and more falling in love with the robust simplicity of the 20b, so much so that I have a Marcus Traveller (21b) on order. Whatever instrument finally grabs your heart, it needs to be one that you find difficult to put down, rather than hard to pick up. As for practice and playing, it is far more rewarding to play something simple well, rather than something complex badly. There are dozens of tunes that are in simple time signatures and a compass of about one octave which can be pumped out of a concertina with enthusiasm, building your confidence and placating those who share your home. If you can play Oh Susannah, or When the Saints, or Monck's March, or Cock of the North, well enough to keep the rhythm steady, people will not mind the noise. If you are labouring through some more complex piece, stopping and starting, stumbling over the rhythm, and trying to run before you can walk, you will frustrate yourself, and may to some extent distress those who have to listen. However, there is always more to learn. The larger the island of knowledge, the longer the shore of ignorance. However, you don't always have to be looking out to sea. The larger the island of knowledge, the more island there is to enjoy a stroll around.

If you want to improve, you need to practise, even as an experienced player. I have semi-structured practice sessions. I typically start with a few tunes I know well, then one I'm learning, then I sometimes work on a couple of tricky passages from tunes I'm improving, or I might do some octave scales, then I finish on a high with some tunes I know well. A few minutes' practice at a time every day is better than a long slog once a week. Using this method, I find myself incorporating new "tricks" into old tunes: different fingerings, different harmonic choices. The better your instrument, the easier it is to practise. You must "have to remember to put it down rather than "getting round to picking it up."

My friend, One Eyed Bob, gave me the same advice.

In most cases, taking the end off means undoing 6 screws with a precision screwdriver. It takes no more than reasonable care. I play more or less daily, and probably open one of my instruments less than once every couple of years. I can see no demand for a hinge and clip system with more to go wrong.

It's perfectly normal in a noisy pub or session not to be able to hear your own concertina. The sound comes out of the ends and dissipates away from you. The people either side can hear it better than you can. It's one of the several reasons why I seldom play in sessions.