Ralf Weihrauch joins the Whisky Priests
Ralf Weihrauch joins the Whisky Priests

Hole in One


Grian Ri/ Dinkey`s/ South Shore

The Bedmaking 

Father he was a good old man
He put me to service when I was very young
My mistress and me we never could agree
Because that my master he would love me.

Well she sent me upstairs to the lof
To make up a bed so neat and soft
Master followed after with a gay gold ring
Saying "Betty have this for your bed making."

All through the kitchen and down through the hall
All through the parlour among the women all
Master followed after with a gay gold ring
Saying "Betty have this for your bed making."

Mistress come upstairs in a great haste
Caught the master there with his arm round my waist
From the top to the bottom stair she did him fling
Saying "Mister have that for your bedmaking."

All through the kitchen and down through the hall
All through the parlour among the women all
Everybody asked me wherever I had been
And they laughed when I said "At the bed making."

Mistress she flung me out of the door
She called me a nasty cheeky little whore
The weather being wet and my clothes being thin
How I wished I was back at the bed making.

Six month over and seven month past
Pretty fair maid grew thick about the waist
Her stays wouldn't meet nor her pinafore pin
She cried when she thought of the bedmaking.

Eight month over and nine month gone
Pretty fair maid had a beautiful son
She's took him to the church she him christened John
And she took him back again to the dear old man.

She cursed him through the kitchen and down through the hall
Cursed him through the parlour among the women all
Saying "If you won't pay me, take your little son John
Cos he never cost you nothing but a bedmaking

The Turfman from Ardee

For the sake of health I took a walk One day at early dawn.
I met a jolly turfman as I slowly jogged along.
The kindest salutations passed between himself and me
When first I got acquainted with the turfman from Ardee.

We chatted very freely as we jogged along the road.
Said he 'Me ass is tired, and I want to sell my load,
For I've had no refreshment since I left home you see,
I'm wearied out with traveling.' said the Turfman from Ardee.

'Your cart is racked and worn, my friend, your ass is very old,
It must be twenty summers since that animal was foaled.'
'He was yoked in a trap when I was born, September '83,
And he cantered for the midwife.' said the Turfman from Ardee.

'I own my cart, it must be made of the very best of wood.
I believe it was in use in the time of Noah's flood,
The axle never wanted grease but one year out of three.
It's a real old Carrick axle.' said the Turfman from Ardee.

'I often do abuse the beast with this old hazel rod,
Although I own I never did drive poor old Jack unshod.
The harness now that's on his back was made by John Magee
Who's dead these two and forty years.' said the Turfman from Ardee.

We talked about our country's woes and how we were repressed
The man we sent to Parliament to get our wrongs redressed
'Sure all these politicians are nothing else you see
but led by bloomin' humbug.' said the Turfman from Ardee.

Just then I heard a female voice that I knew very well,
Politely asking this old man his load of turf to sell.
I shook that horny hand of his and bowed respectfully,
In hopes to meet some future day the Turfman from Ardee

Nelly, The Milkmaid

Nellie was a milkmaid bonny, brisk and gay,
She always took delight with young Roger for to play.
One day she decided some pleasure for to take
And asked her missus leave for to go to the wake.
Nellie toraloo, Nellie toraloo,
Fair lovely Nelly, to the wake she did go

"Nelly," said her missus, "I'd have you to take care
And of that young Roger I'd have you to beware.
So Nellie, you may go but this promise you must make,
Don't frolic with young Roger coming home from the wake."

So dressed in her best, young Nellie did repair
And as the expected young Roger he was there.
They danced and they sang, they had wine, beer and cake,
And many were the pleasures that they had at the wake.

The day being over, they homeward went their way,
Until they had come to the new cocks of hay.
And Roger kissed young Nell and her promise she did break,
She froliced with young Roger coming home from the wake.

When seven months were over and nine being come,
Young Nellie was the mother of a fine lovely son.
"I will call it," she said, "I will call it for his sake,
I'll call it young Roger coming home from the wake.

(words and music by Pete Betts)

Dad's drunk again and he's brought lots of men,
And their wives, home from the club,
There's a shortage of beer but you need have no fear ,
Bert's gone round the back door of the pub,
Someone's playing the piana as if using a sledge hammer,
Crucifying "There Goes My Heart",
Then a burst through the door - it's Bert and what's-more,
He's got the beer, so we're ready to start.

'Ee how we could sing, what fun those nights would bring,
Singing for hours on end,
Once we'd found a key - oh! What harmony!
Those boozy voices could lend,
"Heart-of-my-Heart" just for a start,
Or "Walking My Baby Back Home".
When it comes to an end, it's -let's sing it again!,
They don't write 'em like that anymore

Our mam's in the kitchen trying to knock-up a snack,
From the chicken we had this afternoon,
Jack sez "where's the toilet" dad sez "down the back"
By the looks, not a minute too soon!
A laugh goes round the whole house, Jack fell in the coal-house,
Man! He's as drunk as a newt,
But with his face covered black, - he's not taken aback,
He sings "Mammy", and the rest follow suit.

Half past one in the morning, our dad's started yawning,
He's got to be working at six,
A bored audience is watching, while Kenny is botching,
And messing - up easy card tricks,
Still it's time to go now, and dad's got somehow,
To get them all to go home,
And when you're all full of beer, the last thing you'd want to hear,
Is, a tune on his paper and comb! 

The Unfortunate Tailor

Oh list, oh list to my sorrowful lay
And attention give to my song I pray
When you have heard it, you will say
Is that I´m an unfortunate Tailor
He spent his money both fast and free,
With his tales of the land and his songs from the sea
And he stole my Sarah's heart from me,
And he left me here to bewail her

Oh once I was as happy as a bird in a tree
My Sarah was all the world to me
Now I'm cut out by a son of the sea,
And she's left me here to bewail her
Avast" he cried, "You land-lubber swab!
Without guessing my love in came that Cobb " If you don't knock it off, I'll scuttle your knob!"
And Sarah smiled at the sailor

Now my days were honey and my nights were the same
Till a man called Cobb from the ocean came
Long grey beard and his mighty frame
Captain on board of a whaler

Ring Ding:
Bway what a shame when di salorman come
Try hide fi yuh galfren from dat son of a gun
Or him steal it away and gwain leff yuh wid none
An' a laugh inna yuh face, dat's how tings a run 

Big bold bad man, him come from abroad
Ya so pon shore leave, him a enter fi yuh yard
Him tall and him strong and yuh draw bad card
Den di going get tuff and di times get hard 

So yuh fe wise-up bway, and listen to me
If yuh waan get yuh gal back and done misery
Den forget about di needle and di thread already
Get yuhself on a ship and a travel di sea

So now I'll cross the raging sea
For Sarah's proved untrue to me
My heart's locked up and she's the key,
Such a very unfeeling gaoler

Oh why did my Sarah serve so?
No more will I stitch, no more will I sew
My thimble and my needle to the winds I'll throw
And I'll go and list for a sailor

So now, kind friends, I'll bid you adieu
No more my woes'll trouble you
I'll travel the country through and through
And I'll go and list for a sailor My Sarah was the Daughter of a Publican
A generous kind good sort of Man
Who spoke very plain, what he thought of a man
And he never looked Crow at a tailor.

Ring Ding:
Watch out, watch out fi di bad pirate!
Watch out, watch out before it is too late
Sailorman a trouble, misery him create
So watch out fi di barnacle when him pon di gate 

Sailor a Rambo, sailor a ruff
Sailor a strongman, sailor a tuff
Sailor him greedy, him waan everyting
And a tailor have nuttn but sad songs fi sing 

So all yute man, sey yuh betta tek warn
Better find di right job, do it good and den gwarn B
ecome a sailorman, and get data an' corn
And dis a di end a fi we likkle yarn...

Silver Wedding

The Foxhunt

Ye gentlemen of high renown, come listen unto me
That takes delight in fox hunting by every degree
A story here I`ll tell to you, concerning of a fox
Near Royston Hills and mountains high and over stony rocks.

Bold Reynard, being in his hole and hearing of these hounds
Which made him for to prick his ears and tread upon the ground
"Methinks me hears some jubal hounds pressing upon me life
Before that they to me shall come, I'll tread upon the ground"

We hunted full four hours or more through parishes sixteen
We hunted full four hours or more and came by Parkworth Green
"Oh, if you'll only spare my life, I promise and fulfil
To touch no more your feathered fowl or lambs in yonder fold.

Bold Reynard, beat and out of breath and dreading of these grounds
Thinking he must give up his life before these jubal hounds
"So here's adieu to ducks and geese, likewise to lambs also"
They've got poor Reynard by the brush and will not let them go.

The Wanton Seed

Oh, As I walked out one morning fair,
To view the fields and to take the air,
Spied a young maid making her complaint
All that she wanted was the chiefest grain, the chiefest grain.
All she wanted was the chiefest grain. 

I stepped up to this fair young maid
And unto her these words I said
I said, "My young maid, do you stand in need"
Of the grain that's called the wanton seed, oh, the wanton seed
A grain that's called the wanton seed 

"Oh yes kind sir I stand in need,
Of a grain that's called the wanton seed
If you are the man that can do the deed
Come and sow my meadow with the wanton seed, the wanton seed,
Come and sow my meadow with the wanton seed." 

So I sowed high and I sowed low
And it's under her apron the seed did grow
Grew up so neatly without any weed
She always commended me wanton seed, oh me wanton seed
She always commended me wanton seed.

Now when the fourty long weeks they were over and past
She came back to me with a slender waist
She came back to me and how she did complain
she wanted some more of my chiefest grain, oh my chiefest grain
she wanted some more of my chiefest grain.

A Roving on a Winter`s Night

A-roving on a winter's night
And a-drinking good old wine
Thinking about that pretty little girl
She broke this heart of mine

She is just like a bud of rose
That blooms in the month of June
Or like some musical instrument
That's just been lately tuned

Well, perhaps it's a trip to some foreign land
A trip to France or Spain
But if I should go ten thousand miles
I'm coming home again

And it's who's gonna shoe your pretty little foot
And who's gonna glove your little hand
And who's gonna kiss your red ruby lips
Who's gonna be your man

I love you till the sea runs dry
And the rocks all melt with the sun
I love you till the day I die
Though you'll never be my own

A-roving on a winter's night
And a-drinking good old wine
Thinking about that pretty little girl
She broke this heart of mine

The Ranter

It's of a sly ranting parson, for preaching he lived in great fame;
In the town of Rover did dwell, though I dare not to mention his name.
Likewise a jolly young farmer, a neighbour living close by;
Soon on the wife of the Farmer the Ranter he cast a quick eye.

While the Farmer was minding his business and rose with the lark in the morning,
The Ranter was forming a plan how to crown the young Farmer with horns;
And he oft to the farmer's did go, to pray for the good of his soul,
But when you have heard of the joke, I warrant you'll say it was droll.

The Ranter if you had but seen you would think he was free from evil;
As pure as snow-driven without, but within was as black as the Devil.
One day when the Farmer was out he said, "I will have my desire",
And straight to the house he did go and he sat himself down by the fire.

Then he said, "My good woman, I'm told that your husband won't be home tonight;
I value not silver or gold if I could but enjoy my delight".
Then she replied with a smile, "My husband is gone for a week",
And little the Ranter did think how she meant to play him a trick.

When all things were silent at night, she whispered these words in his ear:
"The best bed it stands in the parlour, and you must go to it my dear;
When you are safe up to bed, my dear, I will come with all speed."
"Alright", said the Ranter, "Make haste"; and so was the bargain agreed

And the Ranter got into bed and he lay there as snug as you please
And the lady went into the garden and fetched back a fine hive of bees.
And she carried them into the parlour and put them down slap on the floor;
So nimbly then she ran out and on him she lockèd the door

And the bees began buzzing about and the Ranter he jumped on the floor,
So sweetly he capered and danced as they stung him behind and before;
And then he got out of the window, since no other way could he find;
His clothes he ne'er stopped for to take, but was glad for to leave them behind.

All smarting and sore with the stings, he ran home to his wife in his shirt,
Such a figure of fun for to see, all besmeared with mud and with dirt;
And the Farmer came home the next morning and after the truth had been told,
In one of the Ranter's side pockets found thirty bright guineas in gold.

And the Ranter got into disgrace and the farmer he laughed at the joke,
To think how the Ranter would look without trousers, waistcoat or cloak.
The Ranter he frets and he pines all for the loss of his money;
The Farmer, though he lost his bees, thinks he is well paid for his honey.

The Great Tune The World was waiting for

Not the Bleeding Obvious

1. Blarney Stone

It was on the road to Banyon one morning last July
I met a pretty colleen and she smiled as she passed by
Says I, 'I am a stranger in Ireland, all alone
Would you kindly tell me where l find the little Blarney Stone'

There's a Blarney Stone in Kerry, there's a Blarney Stone in Clare
There's a Blarney Stone in Wicklow and there's plenty in Kildare
There's a Blarney Stone in Sligo, and another in Mayo
There's divil a town in Ireland but you'll find the Blarney Stone

I know that you're from Galway, I can tell it by your brogue
There never was a Galway man that was an awful rogue
But since you are a stranger where the River Shannon flows
Well the nearest Blarney Stone I know is underneath your nose

Her Irish smile was brawn, she winked her roguish eye
She set me heart a-thumping till I thought I'd surely die
When I took her in me arms she never made a moan
And I kissed away the roses and abandoned Blarney Stone

Ich kenne das Lied Blarney Stone schon sehr lange, habe es aber erst Anfang 2004 in mein Programm genommen. Es war einer von Maggie Barry`s Standard-Songs. Maggie Barry war ein "Travelling People". Sie reiste in ihrem Pferdewagen quer durch Irland und England und lebte von ihrer Musik. Sie spielte Banjo und hatte eine sehr laute Stimme. Man erzählt sich, dass sie bei Aufnahmen immer ganz schön weit vom Mikro sitzen musste. Sie spielte meist auf den Straßen und vor Fußball-Stadien. Es soll Mannschaften gegeben haben, die ihr zu Auswärtsspielen einen Platz im Bus freigehalten haben, damit sie mitkommt und singt.
Sie war oft zu Gast im "Favourite"- Pub in London, das für seine Sessions berühmt war. Heute steht dort das Stadion von Arsenal London. Dort hat Bob Davenport Maggie Barry getroffen und das Lied gelernt. Er hat den Text ein wenig geändert (I know that you`re a Geordie), weil er aus Nordengland kam.
Topic Records hat eine tolle CD von Maggie Barry, die vor einigen Jahren gestorben ist, mit dem Geiger Michael Gorman herausgebracht, die man hören muss. Bob Davenport hat auch gute Platten gemacht., vor allen Dingen die Aufnahmen mit den Rakes.

2. Barrack Street

You sailors all come lend an ear, come listen to me song
A trick of late was played on me and it won't detain you long
I come from sea the other day and a girl I chanced to meet
Oh me friends will be expecting me to a dance in Barrack Street

I said "My young fair maid, I cannot dance so well"
"Besides I am to Windsor bound where are me friends do dwell"
"In to see the party, as I've saved up thirty pounds"
"Me friends will be expecting me this night in Windsor town"

"Well if you cannot dance me love then you will stand a treat"
"Have a glass or two of brandy and a something for to eat"
"At six o'clock this evening I'll meet you off the train"
"So don't forget to give a call when you come to town again" 

At eight o'clock that evening, then, the drinking did begin
And when we all had drunk our fill the dancing did begin
Me and me love danced all around to a merry tune
She says, "Me dear, let us retire to a chamber alone"

So dancing being over and to bed we did repare
And there I fell fast asleep the truth I will declare
Me darling with me thirty pounds gold watch and chain had fled
Left me here poor Jack alone, stark naked in bed

So I looked all around me and there's nothing I could spy
But a woman's shirt and apron all on the bed did lie
I wrung me hands and tore me hair crying oh what shall I do?
Fare thee well, sweet Windsor town, I'm sure I'll never see you

Well, everything being silent and the hour but twelve o'clock
I put on the shirt and apron and steered for Crowman's Wharf
The captain says "Now Jack, I thought you were to Windsor bound"
"You might have got a better suit than that for thirty pound" 

I might have got a better suit if I'd had got the chance 
I met a girl in Barrack Street she took me to a dance
I danced me own destruction now I'm struck from head to feet
Swear that I won't go no more down in Barrack street

So all of you young sailor lads a warning take from me
Beware of all your company when you go out on a spree
And keep clear of Barrack Street or else you'll rue the day
In a woman's shirt and apron, oh, they'll bring you out to sea.
Dieses Lied hat verschieden Namen, je nachdem aus welcher Stadt es kommt. Diese Version in von Nic Jones, der aus auf seinem Mega-Album Penguin Eggs auf genommen hat. Einige Jahre später hat es Andy Irvine mit der Band Patrick Street als Patrick Street herausgebracht. Der Text ist ein wenig anders, die Melodie fast die gleiche. Im Mudcat Archiv heißt das Lied "Peter Street"

3. Good Health

Kind friends and companions, come join me in rhyme
And lift up your voices in chorus with mine
Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain
For we may and might never all meet here again

Here's a health to the company and one to my lass
Let us drink and be merry all out of one glass
Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain
For we may and might never all meet here again

Here's a health to the dear lass that I love so well
Her style and her beauty, sure none can excel
She smiles on my countenance and sits on me knee
Sure there's no one in Erin as happy as we

Our ship lies at harbor, she's ready to dock
I hope she's safe landed without any shock
If ever I meet you by land or by sea
I will always remember your kindness to me

Ich habe als Teenager Woche für Woche die Sendung Folk Reviews mit Wally Whyton auf BFBS aufgenommen. Dabei musste ich oft wegen des manchmal knapp gewordenen Taschengeldes auch ganz billige Kassetten kaufen. In meinen Schubladen finden sich immer noch etliche Tapes, die die Jahre trotzdem überlebt haben. Ich hoffe, dass ich eines Tages auch die Kassette mit diesem Lied wiederfinde. Meine Melodie ist von Vin Garbutt. Ich weiß aber nicht, ob er sie geschrieben hat. Kann sogar sein, denn alle anderen Melodien, die ich kenne, sind grundverschieden. Diese finde ich am schönsten.

4. Girls along the Road

Oh I`m just in the vein of a nice refrain so pay attention round
And the name I´ll tell of a fine yxoung swell and a rich young man called Brown.
He listed in the Antrim rifle Corps all you who listen to me ode
Do the thing that`s right going home tonight with the girls along the road
With the Girls along the road, with the girls along the Road
Do The thing that`s right, going home tonight with the Girls along the Road

Brown was a spark he was fond of a lark, a mrried man though not chaste
and little he cared if his own wife heard if anothergirl took his taste.
Aye he himself dressed in his regimental best as proud as a peacock strode
Admiring the girls with the long hair curled as they walked along the Road.
As they walked along the road...
Admiring the girls with the long hair curled as they walked along the Road.

Oh he courted a girl with nice curly hair blu botts and a red leather belt
And he idly talked as they onward walked endeavoring her heart to melt
And his gay grenadier with a wink and a leer enqired her name and abode
And he felt as grand as a lord of the Land with the Girls along the Road.
With the girls along the Road ....
And he felt as grand as a lord of the Land with the Girls along the Road.

Mr. Brown and his love sat down in a tavern hard near by
And he called for a drain of the good champagne and a plate of the old pork pie
And his arms he placed around her waist and his heart with love overflowed
And he say its alright we`ll be happy tonight with the girls along the road.
With the girls along the road ..
And he say its alright we`ll be happy tonight with the girls along the road.

Oh this funny little man he had just begun his love tales to outpour
When who should he see but his own Mrs. B peeping in at the parlour door.
With abolt like a bear she fastened in his hai for the signs of her anger showed.
Saying I`ll tear away your eyes if you go to exercise with the girls along the road
With the girls along the road ...
Saying I`ll tear away your eyes if you go to exercise with the girls along the road

Now to set matters right, these women had a fight a first rate tumble up and down
And they sent to smithereens hat coats an crinolines and then they set to work on brown.
He was jolly well thrashed and his hat all bashed as the crowd their anger bestowed.
And his fine uniform was all torn in the storm with the girls along the road
With the girls along the road ....
And his fine uniform was all torn in the storm with the girls along the road.

Now Mr. Brown has broken with the peace, he`s been taken to a police Cell
There to ruminate on his sda unlucky fate like many`s a fine young swell.
And the very next day, sure his wife ran away becaus of this little episode.
He`s about there still but he never goes to drill with the girls along the rode
With the girls along the road ..
He`s about there still but he never goes to drill with the girls along the rode

Das Lied habe vor etwa 20 Jahren zum ersten Mal von Andy Irvine bei einem Live-Konzert in Gelsenkirchen gehört. 1993 hat er es mit Patrick Street aufgenommen. Auf dem Veteran Label gibt es eine Version von John Kennedy, die ich nicht kenne. Meine Text habe ich von einer Website kopiert, ich weiß aber nicht mehr von welcher. Also danke an jeden, der den Text auf seiner Seite hat. Ich könnte ihn von Euch haben.

5. Rourkes/Toss The Feathers/ Glass of Beer

Drei alte Reels zu denen ich wenig sagen kann, außer dass sie eben sehr alt sind . Aufnahmen gibt es genügend. Glass of Beer haben wir mit Tra na Rossan immer im ersten Set gespielt.

6. Lakes of Coolfinn

It was early one morning Willie Leonard arose,
And straight to his comrade's bedchamber he goes,
Saying "Comrades, loyal comrades, don`t let anyone know,
It`s a fine and pleasant morning, and a-bathing we'll go".

They went down together it was down a long lane
And who should they meet but the keeper of game.
Saying "comrades loyal comrades do not venture in,
Cause there`s deep and false waters in the Lake of Coolfinn."

Young Willie stripped naked and swam the lake round,
He swam foreign island but not for dry ground
Crying "Comrades loyals comrades, I` m now getting weak.
These were the last word Willie Leonard did speak

It was early that morning Willie`s sister arose
and straight to her mother`s bedchamber she goes
Saying "Mother dear mother, I had a strange dream"
Young Willie lies floating on a watery main"

It was early this morning Willie`s mother went there
with a wringing of her fingers and a tearing her hair.
"Saying where was he drowned, was nobody there,
that would venture t5heir life for me own lovely boy

It was early that evening his uncle was there
he rode round the island like a man in despair
Saying: Where was he drowned or did he fall in
My cursed life foreve on the lakes of Coolfinn

The day of the funeral, it was a sad sight
There were four-and-twenty young men, and they all dressed in white.
They bor him on their shoulders and laid him in cold clay
Saying adieu to yound William and they all marched away.

Das ist ein sehr weit verbreitetes Lied. Der See,in dem Willie sein Leben lässt, hat viele verschiedene Namen. Coolfynn, Coolflynn, Colfin, Shallin, Wolfrin... Es liegt wohl daran, dass der See ursprünglich einen gälischen Namen hatte, sich aber aus dem Sprachgebiet über die bristischen Inseln verteilt hat. Demntsprechend unterschiedlich sind auch die Textversionen.. Die Version, die ich singe, setzt sich aus ein paar Versionen zusammen. Da ist zum einen die von Cyril Phillips, die er auf der Platte "The Brave Ploughboy - Songs and Stories in a Sussex Pub" (Transatlantic/Xtra 1975) singt. Hauptsächlich kommt mein Text aus Peter Kennedy`s epochalem Werk "Folksongs of Britain and Ireland" (Oak Publications), das ich von meiner Frau zu Weihnachten bekommen habe. Aus diesem Buch habe ich auch die fünfte Strophe, die sonst kaum gesungen wird, die ich aber aber besonders herzergreifend finde.
Peter Kennedy erwähnte eine Version "Willie Lennox" Da heißt der See Loughinshallin. Den See gab es mal im County Derry, es ist wohl der einzige von allen oben genannten Namen, der tatsächlich existierte.
So unterschiedlich wie die Texte sind auch die Melodien. Ich habe meine von John Jones von der Oyster Band gelernt. Er hat sie von George Dunn.

7. Yarmouth Town

In Yarmouth Town there lived a man
and he kept a tavern by the strand
the landlord had a daughter fair 
a plump young thing with golden hair 

Won't you come down Won't you come down
Won't you come down to Yarmouth Town 

Now to this tavern came a sailorman
and he asked the daughter for her hand
"Why should I marry you?" she said
"I can get all I want without being wed"

"But if you want for while with me to linger 
I'll tie a little string all around my finger 
and as you pass by pull that string
and I'll come down and I'll let you all in"

So at closing time this sailor man 
well, he went to the tavern by the strand
and as he passed by he pulled that string
she came down and she let him all in

Well, the sailor n'er seen such a thing before
For the string around her finger was all that she wore
He was so darned pleased that he pulled that string 
She opened the sheets and she let him in 

So the sailor stayed the whole night through
And early in the morning staggered back to his crew
Where he told them all about the maiden fair
The plump young thing with golden hair 

And the story it soon got around
and the very next night in Yarmouth
There were fifteen sailors pulling that string
And she came down and she let them all in

So to all you fellows for to Yarmouth go
Keep an eye for the girl with her hair hanging low
And if you pass by just pull that string
And she'll come down and she'll let you all in 
"Yarmouth Town" ist das erste Lied, dass mein Freund Peter Bellamy selber in Norfolk gesammelt hat. Die Geschichte mit dem Faden am Finger gibt es auch in anderen Varianten.
Peter hat das Lied 1968 auf seinem Album "Mainly Norfolk" und 1971 auf dem Live Album "Won`t You go my way" veröffentlicht. Für mich war er der größte Sänger des Folk Revivals. Sein Vocal-Trio Young Tradition ist immer noch legendär. Er nahm sich im September 1991 in Keighley (GB) das Leben. 

8. Maggie`s Pancakes / Stenson`s / Flatley`s

Der erste Reel kommt von Stuart Morison, dem Geiger der Tannahill Weavers. Ich mag ihn wegen seiner ungewöhnlichen Rhythmik. Der zweite Reel ist traditionell. Es gibt ein schönes Duett auf dem Kevin Burke Album "If The cap Fits.." mit Jacky Daly. Flatley`s soll tatsächlich von Michael Flatley stammen . Der Lord of the Dance Tänzer, ist tatsächlich auch ein begnadeter Flötist. Er soll bei Seamus Tansey gelernt haben und auch All Ireland Champion gewesen zu sein. Ich habe sein Flötensolo in Lord of the Dance gehört, und es war tatsächlich brillant.

9. Temptation Song

1 When the small birds of the outer air
They sport with one another
Then why should me and you forbear
To sport all gay together?

Good music, sir, should make one dance
Unless their limbs would fail them
I fear your wear some damp must bear
Or surely you'd reveal them 

Refr: With me ditheri I den da, doodle i den da,
with me dither iden doodle dam o di dum 

2. For naked we come on this earth
And naked we'll go under
So why wear hose and costly clothes
To hide the heights of wonder?
Great Adam when he first wooed his Eve
No rings they wore or diamond
But naked they did sport and play
Around the horn of Hymen

3. O maiden far beyond compare
Don't talk with tongue of fire
For holy writ shall never quit
To purge us of desire
And chastity the beacon bright
Does shine throughout the ages
To guard us on the darkest night
When the storms of passion rages

4. If free will is a gift divine
For man's emancipation
Free love's a draft of Cupid's wine
To tease us with temptation
These laws and rules were made for fools
Each day they're growing stricter
So come with me, we'll sport in glee
Let Venus be the victor5. When David fell from God and grace
No armies did applaud him
And none was saved and not depraved
From the sinful City Sodom
And look then to storied Troy
What led to its destruction?
But vengeance for the crime of rape
And ravishing seduction

6. She says King Solomon that monarch wise
Wooed thrice three hundred lovers
He'd wives and queens and concubines
As the Scripture it uncovers
Let curving breast be your fond quest
And yield to female charms
And lie one long and lusty night
All naked in my arms

7 Begone, you slut, heaven is shut
To all such fornicators
To strumpets, streels and harlots all
Likewise abominators
Matrimony was God's command
And matrimonial station
Without adieu the two withdrew
This was their conversation

Den "Song of Temptation" habe ich das erste Mal von der Champion String Band (Tom Gilfellon, Chuck Fleming, Martin Mattwhews) in Folk Review gehört. Später, so um 1984, habe ich die Kassette in London gekauft und höre sie heute immer noch. Tom, Gründungsmitglied der High Level Ranters, hat so einen starken Northumberland-Akzent, dass ich zu Beginn nur die Worte "naked in my arms" verstanden habe. Dieser Vers hat mich nie losgelassen und ich wollte dieses Lied unbedingt singen Durch eine Suche im Internet bin ich dann fündig geworden, viele Hinweise gab es aber nich . Es überraschte mich nicht, dass dieses Lied aus dem Repertoire von Paddy Tunney stammt, der für seine Balladen mit blumiger Ausdrucksweise bekannt war. Tunney singt aber einen etwas anderen Text und ich weiß nicht, welche Melodie er singt. Diese hier, die auch die CSB benutzt, ist die selbe, die auch für das Auswandererlied "Rambling Irishman" benutzt wird. Das ist bekannt durch die Boys of the Lough, De Dannan und die Oyster Band (die eine Strophe auslassen). Ich habe irgendwo gelesen, dass die Melodie aber vor schon für ein anderes Lied benutzt worden ist.
Ich finde es immer wieder erstaunlich wie gewandt die Iren mit der Sprach umgehen. Selbst nur gesprochen ergibt dieser Text einen wunderbaren Fluss. Wie oft kommen hier auch griechsiche Götter vor. Neben Cupid und Venus ist es Hymen (Hymenaios), der Gott der Hochzeit und von dem das Wort Hymne abgeleitet wurde. Wenn man das Wort Hymen in eine Suchmaschine eingibt, sollte man das aber nicht auf der Arbeit oder in Anwesenheit von Minderjährigen tun.

10. Week before Easter

Now a week before Easter the morn bright and clear,
The sun it shone brightly and keen blew the air.
I went up in the forest to gather fine flowers,
But the forest won't yield me no roses.

The roses are red the leaves they are green,
The bushes and briars are pleasant to be seen,
Where the small birds are singing and changing their notes
Down among the wild beasts in the forest.

Now the first time I saw my love she was dressed all in white,
Made my eyes run and water quite dazzled my sight,
When I thought to myself that I might have been that man
But she's left me and gone with another.

Now the next time I saw my love she was in the church stand
With a ring on her finger and a glove in her hand.
So now she's gone from me and showed me false play,
She's gone and got tied to some other.

So dig me a grave both long, wide and deep,
And strew it all over with roses so sweet,
That I might lay down there and take a long sleep,
And that's the right way to forget her.
Es gibt unzählige Varianten von diesem Lied im englischen Sprachgebiet. Die Dubliners singen es als "False Hearted Lover" und auch Sarah Makem, die Mutter von Tommy Makem, hat eine wundervolle Version aufgenommen. Die Worte sind ähnlich und die letzte Strophe ist fast immer identisch.
Die Version die ich hier singe kommt von Bob Copper. Die Copper Family aus Rottingdean, jetzt in Peacehaven, in Sussex in Südengland, hat eine lange Tradition an guten Sängern Schon Bobs Urgroßvater hat das Familienrepertoire aufgeschrieben, das heute von Bobs Enkeln weitergesungen wird. Bob war die herausragende Figur der Familie. Für sein Buch "A song for every Season" hat er einen Literaturpreis bekommen und es folgten zwei weitere. Er war in England eine der führenden Volksliedsammler während des Revivals.
Ich habe Bob selber mal getroffen (so um 1990) und es war einer der aufregendsten Momente in meinem Leben. Einige Jahre (1982) zuvor war ich schon mal im Central Club. Ich traf dort Bobs Sohn John. Ich versprach ihm ein Tape mit deutsche Folksongs. Eines Tages hatte ich dann von ihm eine Kassette im Postkasten. Es war Bob, der sich gerade Concertina beigebracht hatte, und nun die alten Songs darauf begleitete. Ein Schatz in meiner Sammlung. Bob Copper starb 2004, eine Woche vor Ostern, daher singe ich auch diese Lied für ihn. Auf seinem Tape klingt es fast so ähnlich. Als er starb, habe ich mir eine Flasche Whisky gekauft und die Copper Family Lieder durchgesungen. Zumindest so lange, wie ich noch konnte.

11. Woman from Wexford

Well there was an old woman from Wexford 
In Wexford town did dwell 
She  dearly loved her husband  
And another man twice as well 

With me right foll diddy foll dearo 
And me right foll tour a lee 

One day she went to the doctor 
Some medicine for to find 
She said "Doctor give me something 
That`ll make me old man blind" 

"Feed him eggs and marrow bone 
And make him suck them all 
It won't be very long after 
That he won't see you at all" 

She fed him eggs and marrow bone 
And made him suck them all 
It wasn't very long after 
That he couldn't see the wall 

Says he "I think I'll drown myself 
But that might be a sin" 
Says she "I'll come along with you
an I´ll help t push you in

The woman she stepped back a bit
To have a run and go 
The old man gently stepped aside 
And she went down below 

Sure  eggs and  eggs and marrow bone 
Will make the your man blind 
But if you want to drown him 
You must creep up close behind 

With me right foll diddy foll dearo
and the blind man he could see

12. Good Ship Kangaroo

Once I was a waitin' man that lived at home at ease.
Now I am a mariner that ploughs the angry seas.
I always loved seafarin' life, I bid my love adieu
I shipped as steward and cook, me boys, on board the Kangaroo.

cho: Oh I never thought she would prove false or either prove untrue
As we sailed away through Milford Bay on board the Kangaroo

"Think of me, oh think of me," she mournfully did say,
"When you are in a foreign land and I am far away.
Take this lucky tuppenny bit, it'll make you bear in mind
That lovin' trustin' faithful heart you left in tears behind."

"Cheer Up, cheer up, my own true love. Don't weep so bitterly,"
She sobbed, she sighed, she choked, she cried and could not say goodbye
"I won't be gone for very long, 'tis but a month or two.
When I will return again of course I'll visit you."

Our ship it was homeward bound from many's the foreign shore
And many's the foreign present unto me love I bore.
I brought tortoises from Tenerife and toys from Timbuktu
A china rat, a Bengal cat and a Bombay cockatoo.

Paid off I sought her dwellin' on a street above the town
Where an ancient dame upon the line was hangin' out her gown.
"Where is me love? " "She's vanished, sir, six months ago
With a smart young man that drives the van for Chaplin, Son and Co.

Here's a health to dreams of married life, to soap suds and blue,
Heart's true love and patent starch and washin' soda too.
I'll go unto some foreign shore, no longer can I stay
And with some China hottentot I'll throw meself away.

Me love she is no foolish girl, her age it is two score
Me love she is no spinster, she's been married twice before.
I cannot say it was her wealth that stole me heart away;
She's a washer in a laundry for one and nine a day.

Planxty hat auf dem Album "After the Break" eine fast schon ultimative Fassung kreiert. Ich habe die Akkorde übernommen, aber einen anderen Zwischenteil komponiert. Christiy Moore hat die Lyrics von Elizabeth Cronin bekommen. Auf einer Shanty-Seite steht, dass das Lied von einem gewissen Harry Clifton (1824-1872) geschrieben wurde. Dennoch wird es als taditioneller Capstan-Shanty bezeichnet. Bislang war mir gar nicht klar, dass das Lied überhaupt ein Shanty ist. 

13. Lancers/ Jig Runrig / Swedish Jig
Das Album endet mit drei Jigs, Über den Lancers weiß ich nicht viel, ich mag aber seinen englischen Charakter im A-Teil, der durch den Moll-B-Teil aufgelöst wird. Der zweite wurde Mitte der 90er von Fergie McDonald geschrieben. Der dritte ist ungewöhnlich, da er im A-Teil zwölf Takte hat. Darauf folgt ein spannender B-Teil, von dem Leute, die davon Ahnung haben, behaupten, er sei in A-Mixolydisch. Es wird erzählt dass der Tune vom Kirchenorganisten Arthur Darley irgendwann zu Beginn des 19 Jahrhunderts komponiert wurde.


Ralf Weihrauch


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