From the rugged romanticism of Robert Burns to the ballsy beauty of urban lyricists, The Libertines, here is a collection of songs as disparate as can be in terms of location, age and style.
But all of them are bonded through a shared lyrical alchemy - they all possess an innate understanding of society's humdrum, ordinary life which is collectively a richly compelling and endlessly fascinating story. They are, of course, Folk songs.
The lyrics are integral to the ethos of this EP and conveys what Folk music means to me. I enjoyed recording this immensely with fellow artists who I am proud to call friends. We had an absolute blast and I hope this shines through the recordings.
If you like this there's more in the pipeline... I can be found at Rosslyn Court, a small venue in Margate.
Morag Butler, by Thomas Wood
A gloriously positive song about women, written by serial womaniser Robert Burns in 1783, which poses the idea that God is a woman and that Adam was a trial run. Ty Watling adds piano and a lead guitar giving it a rather Dire Straits moment.
Green grow the rashes*, O
Green grow the rashes, O
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend
Are spent among the lasses, O
There's nought but care on every hand
In every hour that passes, O
What signifies the life o' man
If 'twere not for the lasses, O
The warlike race may riches chase,
And riches may fly by them, O
And though at last they catch them fast
Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O
Give me a canny hour at e'en
My arms around my dearie o
And war-like cares and war-like men
Can all go tapsalteerie** O
And you so douce***, you sneer at this
Your nought but senseless asses, O
The wisest man the world ever saw
He dearly loved the lasses, O
Old Nature swears, the lovely dears
Her noblest work she classes, O
Her apprentice hand she tried on man
And then she made the lasses, O
* rashes = rushes
**Tapsalteerie = head over heels
*** douce = Soft/daft
Ty Watling, by Thomas Wood
This is the saddest of songs, written in 1791 by Robert Burns to his platonic love Agnes Maclehose (known as Clarinda or Nancy) on her return to her husband in Jamaica. She may have been his first love but he was not hers.
Ae* fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae farewell, and then forever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,
While the spark of hope she leaves him?
Me, no cheerful twinkle lights me;
Dark despair around benights me.
I'll not blame my partial fancy,
Nothing could resist my Nancy;
For to see her was to love her;
Love but her, and love forever.
We never loved so kindly,
Had we never loved so blindly,
Never met--or never parted--
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.
Fare thee well, thou first and fairest!
Fare thee well, thou best and dearest!
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace. enjoyment, love, and pleasure!
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae farewell, alas, forever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee!
*ae = one
It took a poet from Gibraltar to write this great English anthem for our times.
The night has turned your compass into dust
You're hanging like a tightrope in the rain
And now that London's told you all its lies
You wonder if there's future in this place
But girl if you're tired don't go away
We can write England all over again
And when they parade with their guns and their blades
We can write England all over again
They say that stubborn men hold on to their flags
When life and faith have ceased to be aligned
But what's the use of living in a lie
When all you got are spiders in your mind
Take me to a land of Innisfree*
Where everyone is listening to the band
Where faces merge in song and poetry
And plenitude is all that we demand
*Innisfree- referring to W B Yeates' poem of an idyllic island.
This is another wonderful story song written in the folk tradition with a rousing chorus.
Love and hate
Tattooed on the knuckles 'round the handles of a blade
On the knuckles 'round the handles of a blade
A bloody blade
Now here it comes
Flashing lights and sirens
You know it won't be long
Time for the radio to play your last song
Your last song
I'm just calling to tell you, baby
That they're taking me away for a while
Don't blame me, it's the world that made me
They're taking me away for a ...
Taking me away
And here they come
Flashing lights and sirens
You know it won't be long
Just time to phone the missus
And tell her what you've done
Now you've done wrong
I'm just calling to tell you, baby
That they're taking me away for a while
Don't blame me, it's this world that's made me
Now they're taking me away for a...
Taking me away
And oh, you've got to know
As you wash the blood from your clothes
You can clean your clothes
You'll never clean your soul,
A-C-A-B*
Tattooed on your knuckles
Does the world know what it means?
Now they're slipping on the bracelets
Are you so young and hard and mean?
So cold and mean
I'm just calling to tell you, baby
That they're taking me away for a while
No, don't blame me, it's this world that's made me
Now they're taking me away for a...
Taking me away
*ACAB = All Cops Are Bastards
Like many traditional songs this has a complicated history with Cecil Sharpe recording 9 different versions and the original sentiments evolving to its present feminist message thanks largely to Shirley Collins. If men were placed in positions of vulnerability would women take advantage?
This has a bit of a unsettling feel developed through Morag's arrangement and Hughie Gavin's subtle piano.
Oh Sally my love, it's you I'd be kissing
Oh Sally my love, it's you I'd be kissing
She smiled and replied, ‘You don't know what you're missing'
Oh Sally my love, I wish I could wed you
Oh Sally my love, I wish I could bed you
She smiled and replied, ‘Then you'd say I'd misled you'
If all the young men were hares on the mountain
If all the young men were hares on the mountain
How many young girls would take guns and go hunting?
If young men could sing like blackbirds and thrushes
If young men could sing like blackbirds and thrushes
How many young girls would go beating the bushes?
If all the young men were fish in the water
If all the young men were fish in the water
How many young girls would undress and dive after?
If all the young men were rushes a-growing
If all the young men were rushes a-growing
How many young girls would take scythes and go mowing?
But young men are given to frisking and fooling
Oh, young men are given to frisking and fooling
I'll leave them alone and attend to my schooling
Hughie Gavin, by Thomas Wood
This is about me. How did she know? Just try not singing along...
Well, I ain't 16, I'm no beauty queen.
And my eyes are bagging and my skin is sagging
And if that's the reason that you don't love me,
Maybe that's not love.
I'm not 20 either and I don't care neither.
My hair is grey and I like it that way.
And if that's the reason that you don't love me,
Maybe that's not love.
If you don't think I rock, then we ain't gonna roll
If you don't think I'm cool, my friend, my hot just turned to cold
If you want a younger model, I wish you luck sweet pea
‘Cause if you don't know just what you've got, - you ain't having me
Older ladies, older ladies, older ladies... are DIVINE!!!
Older ladies, older ladies, older ladies... are DIVINE!!!
I've got cellulite and aching feet
My thighs kinda jiggle when I giggle and wiggle
And if that's the reason that you don't love me,
Maybe that's not love
I'm not tummy tucked or liposucked.
I've got a big bum but I like to have fun
And if that's the reason that you don't love me,
Maybe that's not love
Well, I'm not just around, I'll only have a man
If he's smart enough to see, what a catch I am
If you want a younger model, I wish you luck sweet pea
‘Cause if you don't know just what you've got, - you ain't having me
Older ladies, older ladies, older ladies... are DIVINE!!!
Older ladies, older ladies, older ladies... are DIVINE!!!
I've got a chicken neck and I love it, by heck
It makes a double chin whenever I grin
And if that's the reason that you don't love me,
Maybe that's not love
Well I've got these breasts that hang from my chest,
Pretty much all the way to my nest.
And if that's the reason that you don't love me,
Maybe that's not love
If you don't think I rock, then we ain't going to roll
If you don't think I'm cool my friend, my hot just turned to cold
If you want a younger model, I wish you luck sweet pea
‘Cause if you don't know just what you've got -you ain't having me
Older ladies, older ladies, older ladies... are DIVINE!!!
Older ladies, older ladies, older ladies... are DIVINE!!!
An older lady, by Thomas Wood
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