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Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Steve Andisaw Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw
Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw
Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Steve Andisaw Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw Steve Andisaw
Steve Andisaw
(...and his big bag full of stuff)
"Aaaaaaargh it's him again! What's he got this time?"...Then he pulls out yet another little instrument from his big black bag and sings something totally unexpected.
It's difficult to categorise Steve. A unique performance wrapped up in a hundred rolls of duck tape.
Listen with an open mind and Steve will fill it for you.
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You might see Steve lurking around in some dark corner at a Folk Festival....or if you're really unlucky he might go to your local folk club and do a floor spot
Pictures
Videos
WINNER OF THE 2023 "I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S NOT FOLK" COMPETITION at Warwick Folk Festival
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Odd how I never get booked for garden parties
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Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw
Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw Steve and his saw
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Wandering Goth with a Saw
I’m a wandering goth
And I’m drawn like a moth
To music which has romance and gore
And there’s nothing so chic
As the ear splitting shriek
Of someone playing a musical saw.
From the tip to the hilt
Of a thing which is built
To turn mighty oak trees into tables
I bring you creations
And sculptured vibrations
With melodies, ballads and fables
So lend me your ears
And pray have no fears
For I’ve filed all the teeth off—it’s safe
With my saw and my bow
I present a short show
For my Lords and my Ladies and Knaves.
Steve Andisaw 2020
If you are viewing this on a mobile phone, it looks a lot better on a full sized computer screen!
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Me reciting a poem about a metal detector and using a music stand as a visual aid
Me wondering whether to sing a song or read a book
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Excuse the cowboy hat....it was a Country & Western evening!
A gig!
Bending the saw back on itself to get the lowest note (which on a good day is B)
This instrument was a retirement present from my son (I think he secretly thought it might stop me playing my saw for a while)
Chickens in the Garden (First ever public performance of Tadpole in December 2017)
In this video I said that the song was traditional....I since discovered that it was written by James Bland of New York in the 19th century. Oops, sorry Mr Bland.
One man and his Rabbit (went to mow the garden)
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My latest obsession... the plastic drainpipe.
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