Category: songs

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The Wilderness Yet: “An Elizabethan Christmas carol, this first appeared as a broadside in c. 1625. It is sung to the tune When Phoebus did rest, under which it is printed in Playford’s The English Dancing Master.”

The Wilderness Yet: https://thewildernessyet.bandcamp.com/track/drive-the-cold-winter-away-2

https://thewildernessyet.bandcamp.com/track/drive-the-cold-winter-away-2

All hail to the days that merit more praise Than all of the rest of the year, And welcome the nights that double delights, As well for the poor as the peer. Good fortune attend each merry man’s friend That doth but the best that he may, Forgetting old wrongs, with carols and songs, To drive the cold winter away. ‘Tis ill for a mind, to anger inclined, To think of small injuries now. If wrath be to seek, do not lend her thy cheek, Nor let her inhabit thy brow. Cross out of thy books malevolent looks, Both beauty and youth’s decay, And wholly consort, with mirth and with sport, To drive the cold winter away. This time of the year is spent in good cheer, When neighbors together do meet, To sit by the fire, in friendly desire, Each other in love to greet. Old grudges, forgot, are put in the pot, All sorrows aside they lay, The old and the young doth carol this song, To drive the cold winter away. When Christmas’s tide comes in like a bride, With holly and ivy clad, Twelve days of the year, much mirth and good cheer In every household is had. The country guise is then to devise Some gambols of Christmas play, Whereat the young men do the best that they can, To drive the cold winter away.

 

 

Nancy Kerr 2011-13

 

Recorded in 2021 and in 2019 by others, written around the same time as Santa Georgia, shortly after moving to urban Sheffield and loving the diversity brought by the immigrant communities.

Melrose Quartet: https://melrosequartet.bandcamp.com/track/droving-dreams

https://melrosequartet.bandcamp.com/track/droving-dreams

Arise with me, Before the dawn is breaking There’s nothing here to give us cheer, Besides the roof is leaking Across the sea, or just a little nearer Perhaps the skies are clearer In a fine foreign land Chorus: So it’s rise up broken hearted Rag and tatter kings and queens Droving dreams on the ocean seems A fine place to be Some take the train, while others sail the ocean I ask the sky to tell me why we all must be in motion Why some folks gain and hanker for a peerage While others travel steerage To a fine foreign land Some souls turn to earn in honest labour To factory or victory or for a lover’s favour When young hearts burn and sultry suns are gleaming You always will be dreaming Of that fine foreign land Skies turn grey for beggar as for gentry From East to West the road is best when neighbours are a-plenty When children play and babies they are squalling Think on the bombs a-falling On their fine foreign land In a handmade home where nothing may assail us I ask the rain to please explain why memories do fail us Why kind hearts roam and flee the clouds above us And leave the ones who love us For a fine foreign land

 

 

Phaedra Kemp 2006

 

Kemp apparently composed most of the songs for her band The Gruff. They were active in British Columbia with a final tour in 2010.

The Gruff: East For the Winter

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hsyUSDDK_dU

I’ll take my apron off and call it another dayÿ I’ve been workin’ for eight dollars an hour and I can’t say what I’ve savedÿ It don’t mean that I just stay at home wonderin’ what I’m worth or where I went wrong and how I lost my wayÿ Well it feels like it’s been summer since well I don’t know when and I thought I’d never feel that nice cool breeze again and I’m tired of tryin’ to seem like everything’s ok There’s no need to fake a good day in the rainÿ Chorus Well I could go east for the winter and maybe the snow’d feel all right but i know that I would just keep thinking ’bout where to rest my head and that long dark rainy road back home again Blue skies will soon be seen just few and far between I’ll pedal down to the beach at night and make peace with the stormy seas and you and I can both go walkin’ out in the pourin’ rain Wonder how we didn’t see the fallen leavesÿ Well money’s tight and it sure ain’t cheap to fill the house with heat I lay here in the lonely quiet when everyone’s asleep And though it might be true that I spend my time thinkin’ of something new I wouldn’t trade it all away for a guaranteeÿ

 

 

John Roberts 1983

 

John wrote Eat Bertha’s Mussels for our hosts at the fine Baltimore establishment, who have never failed to treat us royally on our many visits there.

Roberts & Barrand: Eat Bertha’s Mussels

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UF3UZ1Y5Mn0

Chorus: Eat Bertha’s mussels, they’re the best there is by far You can eat them in the dining room, you can eat them in the bar So when you’re ashore in Baltimore and you fancy a bite to eat Just follow your nose to Bertha’s, you’ll be in for a rare old treat. Now a sailor came to Bertha’s with a problem most severe His manly pride was atrophied from a voyage of fourteen years A couple of plates of mussels, now he sings in a different key His jib boom’s set right, he’ll be in there tonight, and he’ll never go back to sea: Now a lady came to Bertha’s, who wanted a daughter or son The doctors had said with a shake of the head that she couldn’t have either one So she ate a plate of mussels and went back home to her husband dear She tuned up his crwth, and I’ll tell you the truth, she had triplets the very same year: They will cure your diarrhea, cure your constipation, too Just swallow a box for the chicken pox, the measles or the flu So, if you fancy a healthy life, get your daily dosage straight A plate a day of Bertha’s mussels, and you’ll live ’til you’re 98:

 

 

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Archie Fisher recorded in 1976 on The Man With a Rhyme, where he wrote: “An Ayrshire love song that has more of the drawing room about it than the tradition. Unclaimed by Burns, the melody more than justifies its place in the Scottish folksinger’s repertoire. I borrowed it from Geordie Hamilton of Edinburgh.”

Archie Fisher: The Echo Mocks the Corncrake

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Xak-VRRuV4

The lass that I loved first of all was handsome, young and fair. Wi’ her I spent sae many a nicht doon by the banks o’ Ayr. Wi’ her I spent sae many a nicht where scented clover grows, And the echo mocks the corncrake amang yon whinny knowes. We loved each other dearly and disputes we seldom had, As constant as the pendulum, our hearts beat ever glad. We sought for joy and found it where yon iwee burnie rows, And the echo mocks the corncrake amang yon whinny knowes. Ye ladies fair and pleasure dames drive tae the banks o’ Doune. Ye dearly pay yer every cent tae barbers for perfume. But rural joys are free for all where scented clover grows, And the echo mocks the corncrake amang yon whinny knowes. The corncrake is noo awa’ and the bank is tae the brim. The whinny knowes are capped wi’ snaw tae tap the highest whin. But when cold winter is awa’ and summers pierce the sky, We’ll welcome back the corncrake, the bird of rural joy.

 

 

John Kirkpatrick 1978

 

“Based on a true incident in 1972, as reported in Taffy Thomas’ newspaper in the MAgic Lantern van. He looked me in the eye and said ‘There’s a song in there for you, Johnsie.’ And there was. Translated into Dutch (!) and recorded by Gerard Van Maasakkers under the title ‘Janus Dekkers’.” Third verse slightly rewritten by Alex Ellis

Tom Lewis: Tom Lewis: Eddie Bakers Muckspreader

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RKkgPnBkGB4

Now in My-tholm-royd in Yorkshire, one Saturday in June / All the village was preparing for the fete that afternoon There were sideshows, stalls and roundabouts and every kind of game / But the village fete will never now be quite the same again For this pleasant country scene was transformed by a machine / Which belonged to Eddie Baker from the farm just down the road With his tractor and his trailer and his load both sweet and pure / Five hundred imperial gallons of best liquified manure Chorus: Down the road went Eddie Baker in his rattling old boneshaker And he never knew the trail he left behind him Now Eddie quickly picked up speed on the track from Lower Lumb Farm / Though his load careered madly he never thought ‘twould come to harm And so noisy was the clatter and the crashes and the booms / He had to turn his old transistor up so he could hear the tunes As he zoomed across a bump it triggered off the trailer’s pump / And its hose discovered freedom it had never known before It waved wildly round and round, from side to side and up and down / As spreading dung and desperation, Eddie sailed into the town Now Jemima Smith and Barney from down the old folks’ home / Were on their way to a lunchtime tipple at the Peacock and Trombone She was adjusting of her spectacles to a admire a garden rose / When a blast from Eddie’s onslaught whipped ’em right from off her nose ‘Oh, gawd’, says old Jemima, ‘I’ve just had a funny turn / Oo , I feel or cold and clammy and how my skin does burn’ ‘Oh, speak up, dear’, says Barney, as together they did cling / ‘It’s short-circuited me Starkey, I can’t hear a bleeding thing Now the Icecream Factory Silver Band were warming up to play / To commence the celebrations of that very special day When there appeared on their music dots they couldn’t play too well / As with the gentle tang of Brasso mingled a new exciting smell And their tunes all went awry as they hung ’em out to dry / And the sousaphone player played his last ’cause he sucked when he should have blowed There were different tunes in different times and all in different keys / And ‘Nellie the Elephant’ sounded more like ‘The Flight of the Bumble Bee’ Now the greasy pole was greasier than ever known before / And the icecream had a chocolate sauce no palate could ignore And into the coffee-coloured candy-floss Grannie Walker plunged her teeth / And for evermore the ones on top were stuck to the ones beneath And in the tug-o-war there were broken bones galore / There was blood all round the bottle stall as both teams slithered through There was chaos round the cake stall and the tea was more like glue / ‘Cause you didn’t just get sugar when they asked, ‘One lump or two?’ So he trundled through the village, down the road and past the hall / And where he’d been for years after all the weeds grew ten feet tall And he never knew the chaos that he’d caused along his way / And he never heard the crashes as he crossed the motorway And in time he’ll dwell on high in that great muckheap in the sky / Where St Peter’ll dive for cover every time he passes by It’ll rust up all their haloes, it’ll clog up all their wings / As, wiping shit from off their faces, all the angels they will sing

 

 

Chris Bracken 

Gillian Stewart 

I thought I heard a woman say Do the work yourself, boys, do the work yourself But I can say it in a better way Do the work yourself, boys, do the work yourself I have a lot of feelings and I don’t know why?I only get angry because boys don’t cry I’m feeling really lonely, I think that it’s your fault?No I don’t want to talk, I just want to pout I’m feeling really hungry, what should I do?…I didn’t do that chore, ’cause you didn’t ask me to I think I filled it out, can you check that I did it right?Wow I never knew that, Jeff, thanks for your insight I made a joke, you didn’t laugh, so now I’ll say it louder?I don’t like your plans but I’ve got nothing better I’m a grown-ass man and I can’t use Google Calendar?I’m calling to ask you questions you answer in the email I sang a song that’s racist, and you made me feel bad?This is my safe space, I shouldn’t have to feel sad

 

 

Alex Sturbaum 2010?

 

“I wrote this song on my first tour with Gallimaufry. I have been fortunate in many ways, but none more so than my opportunity to travel around playing music with some of my best friends.”

Alex Sturbaum: https://alexsturbaum.bandcamp.com/track/end-road-work

https://alexsturbaum.bandcamp.com/track/end-road-work

Gonna build me a boat, and when weariness takes me I’ll lay me down easy and float far away Hard times may shake me, and love might forsake me I might lose my course, but I won’t lose my way Chorus: Cause we’re rolling on Cross lines and over borders This road don’t get no shorter And the going’s mighty slow So get up, boys The sun is getting higher So pack up, put out that fire We’ve got places left to go Gonna find me a road across rivers and valleys Gonna walk that old road till I get where I’m bound And if I lose my way and there’s no way to find me I’ll find that old river and follow it down Gonna make me some friends who got voices like silver Get them singing all evening and walking all day And we’ll walk through the cornfields and walk through the pine woods Good food and a fire at the end of the way

 

 

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The Essequibo River is in Guyana. A halyard shanty; Hugill got from shipmate & shantyman “Harding the Barbarian”. Hugill says, as far as he knows neither have ever been in print. Last two verses by Martin Simpson. “Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh” might mean “Boat a-turnin’ now, we are somebody o’er” (i.e. turn the boat around, we’re a man overboard) in Creole.

The Essiquibo River is the king of rivers all, Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh The Essiquibo River is the king of rivers all, Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh Chorus: Somebody, oh, somebody, oh Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh The Essiquibo captain is the king of captains all, Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh The Essiquibo captain is the king of captains all Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh The Essiquibo bosun is the king of bosuns all, Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh The Essiquibo bosun is the king of bosuns all, Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh The Essiquibo maidens are the queen of maidens all Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh The Essiquibo maidens are the queen of maidens all Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh The Essiquibo sallies are the queen of sallies all Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh The Essiquibo sallies are the queen of sallies all Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh The Essiquibo sailor is the king of sailors all Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh The Essiquibo sailors is the king of sailors all Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh The Essiquibo River is the king of rivers all Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh The Essiquibo River is the king of rivers all Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh Running like the devil when we’re running from the squall Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh Running like the devil, or the devil take us all Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh When we get to Georgetown the sheets a-coming down Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh ___ silver dollars and go tearing round the town Boddy tanana, we are somebody, oh

 

 

Paul Davenport 2024

 

Hymn to the coast of County Durham: searching for sea-glass on the shore; cycling down old railway tracks, and the Hartlepool Folk Festival.

The Davenport Family: https://gavinandamydavenport.bandcamp.com/track/evermore

https://gavinandamydavenport.bandcamp.com/track/evermore

The princes and bishops are gone The colliers departed likewise But their winter dance still rattles on Though mostly it’s hid from our eyes Chorus: And the sun turns the ocean to gold / And the sea scatters gems on the shore And the north wind blows chilly and cold / Evermore The headland is lit by dawn’s hand And the mist rolls, caressing the waves That whisper their charms to the sand In the dark hollow mouths of the caves The stream sings its song in the Dene Its silver threads sewn o’er the sand And where once the railways had been The tall trees they now clothe the land Where families once took their delight Now the terns build their nests in the dunes And young lovers they whisper goodnight They are dancing to old-fashioned tunes The turn of the tide tells the tale Of lives lived by sea and the land And reminds us with each winter gale We are held by a far greater hand