This year, Dave Rowe, owner of a decades-old music store in St. John’s, N.L., found himself in a peculiar yet pressing situation: he was out of ugly sticks, and the man who made them was retiring.
The ugly stick is a Newfoundland percussion instrument, often made of a mop handle stuck in a rubber boot and festooned with rows of bottle caps punctured by protruding nails. They are particularly popular at O'Brien’s Music, which has been selling a variety of Newfoundland instruments since 1939, Mr. Rowe said.
O'Brien’s takes its reputation and its ugly sticks seriously, and Mr. Rowe said he hunted for five months before finding another ugly stick maker whose product could pass muster.
“It took some searching, like stopping at craft fairs, stuff like that,” the 42-year-old said in an interview. “When we didn’t have them there for a spell, we were turning down folks, (customers) were calling or emailing almost every day.”
Ugly sticks are often associated with mummering, the Newfoundland Christmastime practice of barging into neighbours’ homes to sing and drink while dressed in silly clothes and face coverings. Sure enough, about 50 people showed up to an annual ugly stick-making workshop held by the Mummers Festival in St. John’s earlier this month.
As the instruments came to life, the cavernous workshop room in an armoury building soon began to ring with the clang of metal bits rattling on nails, and the sharp smacks of rubber boots hitting the floor. Ugly sticks caught on with mummers because of the racket they can make, and because they’re so easy to put together, said Lynn McShane, the festival’s executive director.
“When they go from house to house, they don’t really want to bring their good instruments,” Ms. McShane said in an interview. “But it’s been around Newfoundland for a long time as a percussion instrument. I mean, I know people who can literally play it.”
Wade Jones, 61, has played the ugly stick for more than 30 years, most famously with the band Anchors Aweigh. He is said to be among the only professional ugly stick players in the province.
While Mr. Rowe prefers O'Brien’s ugly sticks to have a rubber boot on the bottom, to make a solid thud when slammed rhythmically onto the floor, Mr. Jones’ stick has a carved wooden shoe screwed into the bottom of the mop handle. It still gives a nice, deep thwack, but it’s sturdier, he said, noting his current one has held up for decades.
Mr. Jones and Mr. Rowe also prefer metal discs for the ugly stick’s characteristic jingle, rather than the traditional bottle caps.
“They used to fly off when I was playing ... kind of like, ‘Watch at your own risk!’” Mr. Jones said of his experience using bottle caps. He acknowledged the projectile caps were likely the result of his particularly vigorous playing style, gripping it beneath its mop head and shaking it up and down and to-and-fro, so both the heel and the toe of the wooden shoe tap the floor.
Mr. Jones uses a “beater” stick to smack the mop handle, and rattle the metal discs. The beater has notches sawed into it, so he can pull it across the mop and produce a sustained percussive ripping sound.
His favourite song to play is “Wipe Out,” by The Surfaris, though he admitted “I’se the B'y” is a more traditional ugly stick jam.
He’s not aware of any recordings of traditional Newfoundland songs featuring the ugly stick, nor is Mr. Rowe. “They’re more of a party instrument,” Mr. Rowe said.
Mr. Jones grew up in a typically musical Newfoundland family: his mother sang in choirs and his father played the button accordion, harmonica and ugly stick. His father made him his first ugly stick, out in his shed, Mr. Jones said. He still uses it today—it has a yellow, Muppet-like flower sticking out of the mop head.
Mr. Rowe is also a musician, though he only plays the ugly stick inside his store.
“I give a crash course on the ugly stick fairly regularly,” he said. “Especially in the summer, when there’s a lot of visitors around and they’re curious about the instrument.”
As of early December, there were about a dozen ugly sticks left in stock at O'Brien’s Music, Mr. Rowe said. He expected them to be long gone by Christmas.
