Wednesday 13th June saw the Edinburgh Folk Club in the Pleasance invaded by 23 budding songwriters, all bidding to walk away with the prestigious 1st prize at the annual songwriting competition. 23 songwriters, 23 egos, 23 sets of entirely original lyrics for the beleagured judges to wade through. It may sound like some people's idea of hell, but the night proved entertaining, even if at times excrutiating.

Overseen and organised (as ever) by the irrepresable Paddy Bort, I'll begin as he did by introducing the 3 unfortunate souls responsible for making 1 new friend and 22 new enemies over the course of 1 evening: The judges. Legendary Edinburgh songsmith Nancy Nicholson seemed to top the bill of the judges, having the credentials of her name on the cup for 3 past competitions. John Jesoman was the Folk Club committee's sacrificial lamb, and relinquished his treasury duties for the night to David Ferrard. Last, but by no means least, the Garden Sessions very own Jack Foster stepped into the firing line (one from the vaults of Paddy Bort's wee black book!).

The experience of listening to 23 original songs back to back was a bit like panning for gold in the Water Of Leith, yet nevertheless the occasional nugget emerged from the stoor. Bob Knight had the unenviable task of kicking proceedings off, with his touching 'My Dear Old Frien', a well crafted lament to the words passed between two old travelling people, including some evocative, rustic lyrics. Last year's winner, Scott Renton, unusually combined military references with a love song for his lady to little avail, while the first female singer of the night, Hazel Forsyth, pinched the lyrics of a runaway slave written in 1862. Frank Reynolds 'The Pearl Fisher' would have benefited from less repetative references to "Kingfisher's" and "Pearlfisher's" which made the song a tad confusing.

Rising out of the general malaise of the 1st half was Neil Paterson's 'Miss Blackwood', a cleverly crafted love song which on closer inspection proved to be about his temporamental bagpipes. Tom Clelend's 'Etive Mor' had evocitave lyrics, yet suffered from an overly lengthy and grizzly introduction.

The 2nd set was of a generally higher standard. Both Mary McCann and Anne Renshaw sang touching song respectively about the Water Of Leith and a woman's efforts to stop her lover from straying. Colin Crombie's introduction to 'Himalaya High' was well scripted yet poorly executed, which was a shame because the a' cappela number was both powerfull and mystical. Next up would have been the reviewer's choice for the top prize, Iain Thomson's 'The Old Country' nicely counterposed a driving riff in drop D, with emotional lyrics describing a man's desire to return to Argyle following many years in exile in the New World. Tom Fairnie flapped then tapped his way through 'Prada Heels', while Trish Santer should realise that using diseases such as TB and HIV as rhyming words in 'Doctor Beat' surely removes much of the seriousness which should be associated with these illnesses. Last year's audience favourite Stevie Palmer did not dissapoint with a song about the Forth Rail Bridge describing the human suffering involved in it's construction, and included some interesting rhythmic changes.

Finally, to the victors. In 3rd place the judges selected Penny Stone's 'Victory?', a powefull a' cappela anti war anthem, which was well thought out and delivered. 2nd prize went to Dave Spittal's entertaining 'Only a Man', a self/male - depreciating song which suggested men tend to think about "sex and sex and sex and sex and cars" in one lyric. Sex yes, cars no. The winner as decided by the judges was Chris Roger's 'Miss Wilmott's Ghost', a catchy number written around the obscure subject matter of a mad 18th century woman with a penchant for planting a little known sea holly in peoples gardens.

One of the best features of the competition was that the audience were allowed to cast a vot, and this year the people spoke, for father and son combo Lee and Nile Patterson's 'Mary Queen Of Scotch'. The interplay between the two was comic and the performance value was high. Pianist son Nile played a beautifully moody melody which matched the glare he shot at his dad following a quip that that he was the better looking of the two! Father Lee (pictured), was an enthusiastic (if Tom Waits-esque) singer who wrote some inspired lyrics such as:

"When You dig out my grave make it long make it deep, put a bottle of whisky at my head and my feet, ring out the bells, release jamesons, grouse and drown me in sheep dip when you lay me down."

which had the reviewer in stitches on several occasions. A worthy popular choice.

Overall, the night was entertaining, although the standard of both songs and performances tended to sway like a drunk at a ceilidh! The nuggets though, when they came, made the evening a worthwhile showcase of the talent on offer on the local songwriting circuit, and the event was a tribute to the organisation of P. Bort and Edinburgh Folk Club.