Hands of the Craftsman album – expanded

The album Hands of the Craftsman has now been expanded to include some of the additional material made available in the book of the album. The number of tracks has been doubled, but the price hasn’t! That’s because although there are a couple of tracks there that were recorded recently, most of the additions are still from the 1980s sessions that were afflicted with ‘sticky shed syndrome’, which degraded the quality of the master tapes. (I’m not claiming that they were that good to start off with!)

In general, the additions weren’t specifically written for the revue, but were either written around the same time, or were written before or after but fit the theme.

The expanded version is still on Bandcamp: I may add the new tracks to streaming platforms in due course, but that’s not a priority. I expect to be long departed by the time Spotify etc. make enough out of me to send a payment…

David Harley

The Sheepstealer

I learned this from Ewan MacColl’s album ‘The Manchester Angel’, though, hearing that version again recently, I see I’ve changed the words slightly. I think he collected it from the Dorset singer Caroline Hughes in the 60s, but Hammond also collected two very similar versions, also in Dorset, in the first decade of the 20th century. I noticed around then that the tune is clearly related to one associated with the rather more spiritual The Carnal and the Crane and The Holy Well, though Martin Carthy also used it for a version of the less-than-spiritual ballad of adultery and murder Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard.

When I sang The Sheepstealer in the 70s, I always sang it unaccompanied, as did MacColl.

Much more recently, though, I started to play The Holy Well as an intro to my own Song of Chivalry (though not for the song itself, which uses a more-or-less original tune). Even more recently, when the Dorset song came up in conversation in a Facebook group frequented by Cornish songwriters, it occurred to me that a somewhat similar guitar part would work quite well with it. And I think it does: your mileage may vary, of course!

Same version, but tidied and remastered.

[backup]

If you’re familiar with my album So Sound You Sleep, you may notice that I used the same tune for my lyric about Twm Siôn Cati. (Which I also sang unaccompanied.) Fortunately, I also recorded a version using The Limerick Rake as an alternative tune: having rediscovered The Sheepstealer, I think I prefer to sing it as I learned it and use the Irish tune for the Welsh outlaw story.

You can find words to The Sheepstealer here on Mainly Norfolk.

The Book of the Album of the Revue

In the early 80s I contributed much of the songs and music (and some other bits and pieces) to a revue called Nice, if you can get it directed by Maggie Ford, which was centred on the world of work. Some of that material appeared more recently on the album Hands of the Craftsman. That album formed the basis of a book that’s just been published: however, the book includes much supplementary material. This includes not only historical and anecdotal material, but material that wasn’t included in the revue, and other material that wasn’t originally intended for the revue, but fits the topic. Some of this material has never been published previously in any form.

Available on Kindle or as a paperback. In due course, it may also be available on other platforms.  Meanwhile, I’m working on an expanded version of the album, when I have the energy.

David Harley

Snowbird revisited

Backup:

I’ve got me a golden needle to help me tie my threads
I’ve got a bottle for my baby and a blanket for my head

So lay down, mama, lay down and let me be
Somehow I feel like old cold turkey has his claws in me

If I had a silver dollar like I’ve got one thin dime
You know I’d clip that turkey’s wings with another shot of turpentine

If I had me a roll as thick as my right leg
I think I’d fly back upcountry like a snowbird to its nest

I’m going back right now, back to my daddy’s farm
If I can find me a rag to bind up my left arm

Soul food when I’m hungry, white lightning when I’m dry
And maybe I’ll get to feeling better by and by

So lay down, mama, lay down and let me be
Somehow, I feel like old cold turkey has his claws in me

Paper City Revisited

backup:

Rough mix, for the present, and possibly forever, since I’m currently recording a more ambitious version with David Higgen. The updated lyric (finally!) is added below.

A cheerful rock ‘n’ roll-ish ditty about the breakdown of the global economy, written in the very early 80s. These days I wonder which will go first: the economy, or the globe.

I woke up with my mind’s eye facing your direction:
I looked hard and I saw you needed help.
You’re choking on paper and tape and legislation,
But you can’t produce one thing to help yourself.

Paper city at the heart of a paper empire:
You’ve got strings to pull, you’ve got wires all over the earth.
Sky-climbing parasite, concrete and paper jungle,
You’ve got money to burn, but I know you’d rather freeze to death.

You’ve got stacks of stocks and shares and bonds:
You’ve got telephone and telex,databank and dateline too.
But you can’t produce as much as one lead pencil,
Or a bar of soap, or a rubber band to pull you through.

The media twitch at the flash of freemason’s handshake
Speeches are made and the punters gather round;
Paper politicians and faceless company men,
Taking the pulse of an ailing paper pound.

I bet you know just what you’re worth on paper:
When the market crumbles, what will that do to you?
So many cold people don’t own the earth they lie in:
Will you be all right in your green-lined paper tomb?

Paper city at the heart of a bankrupt empire:
Your towers get higher as your assets hit new lows.
Nose-diving parasite, I wouldn’t mind you dying,
But you’ll take so many with you when you go.

Updated lyric (recording not yet available); 

I woke up with my mind’s eye fixing your location:
I looked up and I saw you needed help.
You’re floating on algorithms that you can’t understand,
But you can’t produce one thing to help yourself.

Paper city at the heart of a paper empire:
You’ve got strings to pull, you’ve got wires all over the earth.
Sky-climbing parasite, stalking a paper jungle,
You’ve got money to burn, but I know you’d rather freeze to death.

You’ve got stacks of stocks and shares and bonds:
You’ve got more data than you’ll ever know how to use.
But you can’t produce as much as one lead pencil,
Or a bar of soap, or a rubber band to pull you through.

The media twitch at the flash of a freemason’s handshake:
Speeches are made and the punters gather round;
Paper politicians and faceless company men,
Sucking the sap from an ailing paper pound.

I bet you know just what you’re worth on paper:
When the market crumbles, what will you do?
So many cold people don’t own the earth they lie in:
Will you be OK in your green-lined paper tomb?

Paper city at the heart of a bankrupt empire:
Your towers get higher as your assets hit new lows.
Nose-diving parasite, I wouldn’t mind your dying,
But you’ll take so many with you when you go.

Goose and Common revisited

Backup:

The Inclosure Acts enabled the passing into private hands land that had previously been designated as either ‘common’ or ‘waste’. This process preceded by several centuries the formal Inclosure Acts (which began with an Act of 1604) and continued into the 20th century, resulting in the enclosure of nearly seven million acres. While enclosure facilitated more efficient agricultural methods, that increased efficiency and loss of communal land was a factor in the enforced move of so many agricultural labourers into towns. There are a number of variations of this poem, which is usually assumed to date from the 1750s or ’60s, when enclosure legislation started to accelerate dramatically. The tune here is mine: the repeat of the last line is not in the original text, but I thought some chorus harmonies might be nice. 🙂

There are a number of variations of the text, and often just the first two verses are quoted. There’s an alternative four-verse text from ‘Tickler’ magazine dated 1821, but I like this text better.

They hang the man and flog the woman
That steal the goose from off the common,
But let the greater villain loose
That steals the common from the goose.

The law demands that we atone
When we take things we do not own
But leaves the lords and ladies fine
Who take things that are yours and mine.

The poor and wretched don’t escape
If they conspire the law to break;
This must be so but they endure
Those who conspire to make the law.

The law locks up the man or woman
Who steals the goose from off the common’
And geese will still a common lack
Till they go and steal it back.

[Tune (c) David Harley)

Lafrowda Day music (and whatever you might call what I do)

Lots of promising music on Lafrowda Day – Saturday July 15th – in St Just (that’s St Just in Penwith, not the one in Roseland). Unfortunately for those with good taste, there’s also half an hour of music from me, but here’s a full list of what other music is happening as part of the festival on the 14th and 15th so you can avoid hearing me. (There are lots of other things happening during Lafrowda week, which runs from the 9th of July to the 15th.)

Lafrowda 14th July 

Market Square Stage (only)
Bob Henley – 19.00-19.25
Dave Jenkin – 19.30-19.55
Marmalade Shed – 20.00-22.00
DJ Trevor – 22.05-23.30

Lafrowda Day 15th July

Market Square Stage

11.00-12.00 Nancherrow Project
12.00-12.40 Procession
Cape Singers – 12.40-13.40
Joe Duke – 13.50-14.40
Tiger Balm – 14.50-15.40
Catman and the Mancats 16.00-16-50
True Foxes – 17.10-18.00
18.00-19.00 Break
Emerald Dawn – 19.00-19.50
Boundless Brothers – 20.10-21.00
Die Spangel – 21.10-22.00
22.00-22.30 Procession
Jolly Roger Band – 22.30-23.30

Plen an Gwarry Stage

12.0-13.00 Procession
Schools etc. – 13.00-15.30
15.30-16.30 Procession
Schools etc. – 16.30-17.00
17.00-18.00 John Brolly
Cath Navin – 18.00-18.30
Soundless Exit – 18.40-19.10
Steve Bayfield – 19.20-19.50
David Harley – 20.00-20.30
Rob Boughton – 20.40-21.10
Amber Valentine – 21.20-22.00
22.00-22.30 Procession
22.30-23.30 The Young Guns with guests Mc Merlin and Bongo Billy