I suppose every community has its own expectations of a session. Sometimes the collection of people who turn up at the beginning set the character and pace for those who arrive later. At a time when most of the sessions I got to were singing sessions (no instruments at all) the songs were usually sung in friendly keys for most of the singers. When we went to Canberra though, we had to be a bit canny about organising the starters. There was a fellow in Canberra who we all wanted to have join us in any session, as he had a beautiful tenor voice, knew squillions of songs and could harmonise wonderfully with anything. In short, he was a real asset to any session.

Trouble was, if he started the singing, he would usually sing the main melody line (against which we'd all have to harmonise) in a key that was impossible for us lesser mortals. If one of us baritones got in first, however, the pitch range for the rest of the evening would usually have him singing his best and us able to trot out nice harmonies as well.

On a later occasion, after I had become capable of joining in on my anglo, I was at an instrumental session in the main bar of the pub in Kapunda, South Australia. There were lots of instrumentalists there, from all over southeastern Australia and the place was rockin' along when an Adelaide local (who'd recently acquired a 6-row Continental system button accordion) started playing the Athol Highlanders. For some reason, the tradition in Adelaide has this tune played in G, whereas most of the rest of Australia plays it in A.

To make sense of the rest of this story you'd have to understand the layout of the Continental system keyboard, where, if you learn a tune on just three rows, you can transfer the same fingering up, down and across all the rows and play that tune in every key known. It would also be helpful to know that the Athol Highlanders is played in Australia at a rather cracking pace.

Your man played in G and we all joined in. Some of us already knew the SA tradition and were prepared but most others could cope. After a couple of times through, most of the rest of us launched into a repeat with the tune in A; everybody joined in. After the regular 'twice through' someone started it in D and again most of us kept up. Your man then decided he was going to take the tune through every major key. It was easy for him as all he had to do was transfer the same fingering to slightly different parts of the keyboard. All the rest of us, except one, dropped out.

Bronnie Evans was new to the folk scene at that time but, even though she'd been playing whistle for only a month ot two, she was a red hot whistle player. This was probably because she'd had ten years' classical training as a flautist, although I suspect I was one of only three people in the bar who knew this. Bronnie had been playing her flute when this session started and, even though the Athol Highlanders was new to her, she joined in with a will and played quite competently when the rest of us were playing as well.

When your man started 'playing the smart-arse', so to speak she would cock her ear to pick what key it was he's got into, for the first bar or so, and then rip into playing along with him at the same cracking pace. She kept up with him for every key change. At the end of it there was wild applause, all of it for Bronnie.

But most sessions I've been to in Australia and elsewhere have been much friendlier.

Cheers, Rowan.