Redbourn Folk Club
Redbourne Folk Club
Church End
Redbourn
St Albans
AL3 7DU
United Kingdom
Redbourne Folk Club
Church End
Redbourn
St Albans
AL3 7DU
United Kingdom
The Hoy Anchor Folk Club
The Estuary Club
1386 London Road
Leigh-on-Sea
SS9 2UJ
United Kingdom
(Lyrics: McNamara P., Arr. Garcia R.)
This is one of our own compositions. It shines a light on not only those using London to launder dirty money but also the unscrupulous professionals who make a handsome living from quietly assisting the process.
From Mexico to Moscow, Bucharest to Rome
Racketeers across the world see London as their home
From Tallinn to Tblisi, Caracas to Lahore
The wrack of others’ ruin, washes on our shore
Chorus
No guilt, no shame, no questions, their salaries obscene
Pirates dressed in pinstripes, wash that money clean.
From Bond Street down to Georgetown, back to Kensal Rise,
Booty turned to real estate before your very eyes
Stocks and shares and bitcoin, assets bought and sold
(Gotta) keep that money moving boys, ‘til the trail goes cold.
Chorus
Strips clubs and casinos, galleries, cafes
Brothels, pubs and nail bars - wherever cash gets paid
Mix dirty money in with good, ‘rinse’ the whole lot through
‘Smurf’ it into bank accounts, shazzam - it looks brand new
Chorus
Shell entities created, tax havens where they hide,
Camouflage who owns them, let no-one see inside
Lawyers build the structures, accountants cook the books,
With P.R. teams to bully, anyone that looks
Chorus
So, splash the cash around now, on diamonds and on furs
Designer suits and limousines, gold toilets - his and hers
School fees for the children, make dynasties to last
So a nouveau riche of mobsters can join hoodlums from our past
Chorus
(Trad, Irish)
This well known song about the travails of a girl enlisted into the Navy is taken from the singing of famous Irish harpsichordist and singer Triona Ni Dhomnaill from her self-titled album of 1975, a jewel in Paul’s early folk record collection.
When I was a fair maid about seventeen
I listed in the navy, for to serve the Queen
I listed in the navy, a sailor lad to stand
To hear the cannons rattle and the music so grand
The music so grand, the music so grand
To hear the cannons rattle and the music so grand
Well, the officer who enlisted me was a tall and handsome man
He said, "You'll make a sailor, so come along, my man"
My waist being tall and slender, my fingers long and thin
The very soon they learned me, well I soon exceeded them
I soon exceeded them, I soon exceeded them
The very soon they learned me, well I soon exceeded them
Well, they sent me to bed and they sent me to bunk
To lie with a sailor, I never was afraid
But taking off my blue coat, it often made me smile
To think I was a sailor and a maiden all the while
A maiden all the while, a maiden all the while
To think I was a sailor and a maiden all the while
Well, they sent me off to London for to guard the Tower
And I'm sure I might be there 'til my very dying hour
But a lady fell in love with me, I told her I was a maid
Oh she went unto the captain and my secret she betrayed
My secret she betrayed, my secret she betrayed
Oh she went unto the captain and my secret she betrayed
Well, the captain, he came up to me and he asked if this was so
Oh I dare not, I dare not, I dare not say no
"It's a pity we should lose you, such a sailor lad you made
It's a pity we should lose you, such a handsome young maid
A handsome young maid, a handsome young maid
It's a pity we should lose you, such a handsome young maid"
So it's fare thee well, captain, you've been so kind to me
And likewise, my shipmates, I'm sorry to part with thee
But if ever the navy needs a lad, a sailor I'll remain
I'll put out my hat and feathers and I'll run the rigging again
And I'll run the rigging again, I'll run the rigging again
I'll put out my hat and feathers and I'll run the rigging again
(And I'll run the rigging again, I'll run the rigging again
I'll put out my hat and feathers and I'll run the rigging again)
(Trad. Irish)
This is our interpretation of a very well known and beautiful Irish traditional song. It has been in our repertoire forever. So, we felt it was time to record it.
As I roved out, on a May morning
On the verdant braes of Screen
I set my back unto a hawthorn tree
To view the sun in the west country
And the dew on the forest green
There I spied, a young man bold
And a maiden by his side
He was dark as the berry brown red
And she all pale and wan for to see
All pale and wan for to see
Oh come and sit down by my side
And be a love of mine
For all the young birds have come and gone
Since I my true love have seen
Since I my true love have seen
Oh I’ll not sit down by your side
Nor be a love of thine
For I have heard you love a Connaught maid
And your heart’s no longer mine she said
And your heart’s no longer mine
But I’ll go climb a high high tree
And rob a little bird’s nest
And I’ll bring back whate’er I do find
For the girl that I love best she said
For the girl that I love the best
Well I’ll not heed what an old man says
For his days they are well nigh done
And I’ll not heed what a young man might say
For he’s fair to many’s a one she said
For he’s fair to many’s a one.
(Trad, British and Canadian)
This is a song about the hardships of a sailor's life and the fears of their loved ones on shore.
We first heard this song on Canadian singer Matthew Byrne’s delightful album Horizon Lines. It is a song known in Newfoundland through the singing of Pamela Morgan and Richard Noseworthy. The Mainly Norfolk website records that this version is based on a song collected in September 1905 by Henry Hammond from Mr Joseph Elliott of Todber in Dorset. It was published soon after in the Journal of the Folk-Song Society, Vol. 3, No. 11 (1907), pp. 101-103, and is closely related to a song called Nancy from Yarmouth.
Oh Nancy from London, a clear purling stream
Was courted by Willy on board of the Fame
Courted by Willy, a long time ago
Now he’s on the sea sailing where stormy winds blow
Those cold stormy winds love cause my heart to ache
And my parlour window does tremble and shake
Who knows where my love lies, so far from the shore
I’ll pray for his welfare, what can I do more
A ship in distress love is a terrible sight
Like an army of soldiers all gone for to fight
A soldier can lay down his firearm and run
But a sailor must heel to whatever might come
Soldiers and sailors drink a health to their wives
Young men love their sweethearts as they love their lives
Let the punchbowl go round with a full glass in hand
Drink a health to lovely Nancy I left on dry land
Green grow the rushes and the tops of them small
Love is a flower that blooms o’er us all
But the green leaves will wither and the roots will decay
But the red rose will flourish when my love comes from sea
Music: Québécois, arr. Na-Mara, Lyrics P. McNamara
Our attempt to record the universal travails of refugees was written some years ago as a counterweight to the multiplicity of songs that glorify battles and their heroes. The words are set to the tune of traditional Québécois song, Le Vieux Cheval, as performed by Le Vent du Nord.
Mile on mile, their ragged armies march,
‘Though rain be pouring or dusty deserts parch
Line on line, they carry what they can
Seized in panic, as from their homes they ran
Never knowing, where the journey ends
The future is uncertain, the path it twists and bends
In fear they travel, ‘midst enemy and friends
All they knew as certain, lies shattered in the past
The landscapes of the future, lie desolate and vast
They knew not where to run to, as from their homes they fled
Never knowing, if those they love are dead
Yet on they travel and into hell descend
To suffer human hardships, as for themselves they fend
Their wretched lives, on strangers now depend
Legion are the songs that tell of soldiers’ might
(And) legion are the heroes, with weapons gleaming bright
Alas for every gambit in the ‘arguments of kings’
Comes pain and sorrow that every battle brings.
But on they stumble, to lives they cannot see
Diasporas of anguish pushed forward by decree
May their Gods protect them - the poor refugee
May their Gods protect them - the poor refugee
Trad: Québécois -B Bourque, Music R. Garcia
We came across the song 'Le Moine Complaisant' on an album by Le Vent du Nord. Rob has arranged the unnamed reel that introduces the song and we have called it, simply, Québécois Reel. We follow this with Rob’s own composition, 'The Locksmith’s Reel.’
This track is an instrumental.
Music: Na-Mara, Lyrics P. McNamara
The state sometimes ‘swims deeply’ to protect its citizens but this does not release it or its operatives from moral obligation. As this story tells, when lines are crossed, heartache and confusion ensue.
We met upon the barricades – a new world in our sight
And there you stood, a firebrand, a hero for the fight
I fell in love that very day, I thought my heart would fail
If we two stood in unity what forces could prevail?
Chorus
Oh how I loved you and thought you brave and true
Not knowing of the secrets that would break my heart in two
What pleasures and delights we shared in those heady days of spring
We railed against injustice and caused the streets to ring
A tender lover you became, though torn in many ways
Your father he lay dying and you left me many the day
Chorus
In time our love it blossomed and I bore our baby boy
And all that night at my bedside you cried your tears of joy
But your father he was fading fast - this man I never saw
And caring lad to an ailing dad, you were called on more and more
Chorus
A hero then to one and all, always to the fore
You were trusted by our comrades, for the cause sure none did more
But then one day you broke the news, the hounds were on your trail
And to foreign lands you would steal away and that very night you’d sail
Chorus
For months I cried my bitter tears, nursed our growing son
Content to know that you were safe and the struggle would go on
But as those months turned into years and our boy into a man
Without a single word from you, well my life ne’er held to plan
Chorus
But in this morning’s Daily News, you stand before me now
A suit and tie, a book in hand, prepared to take a bow
An undercover cop they say, the finest of his kind
A hero of the state they say, you’d fought behind the lines
Chorus
So, there’d been no ailing father, to your wife’s arms you had gone
There’d been no love for me at all and there’d been no rebel strong
I knew the state swam deeply, it’s the nature of the fight
But sire a child then melt away, by what means is that right?
Chorus
Music: Na-Mara, Lyrics P. McNamara
One irony of early days of life insurance was that it induced some malefactors to murder. In the impoverished tenements of inner-city Victorian Britain, unscrupulous parties would take out multiple policies on unsuspecting partners and then poison them slowly with arsenic extracted from fly paper. Health conditions in such areas were sufficiently appalling that doctors struggled to distinguish the effects of poison from natural illnesses. This particular tale is recorded in Angela Brabin’s 2003 book, ‘The Black Widows of Liverpool’.
Tommy he lay dying, his face turned to the wall,
In agony was crying and the sisters watched it all
As they had with Tom's young daughter, and their husbands gone before
Poor young Margaret Jennings, and upwards of a score
Chorus
With Scottish Legal, Wesley General, the Pru and the Pearl its said,
The day that Tom got married, he put a price upon his head
For murder was their business, poison was their way
Profit was their motive, and all were viewed as prey
Insure ‘em six times over by fraudulent deceit
With the ailments of the working man, kept safe in that conceit
Chorus
But Tommy had a brother who’d not accept it so,
That a hodman, hale and hearty, could so swiftly be laid low
And he pressed upon the doctors, the insurance agents too
And then the beadle Hargreaves, and he brought them to his view
Chorus
And as the mourners gathered, to Ascot Street they sped
To view Tom’s cold grey body as it lay upon the bed
The funeral it was halted and Maggie she was ta’en
But Catherine saw them coming and they could not her restrain
Chorus
Ten days she moved from house to house, ten days upon the run
But rumours filled old Liverpool, and Catherine was undone
For as she skulked and scurried, more bodies they did raise
With arsenic found in each of them, the world was sore amazed
Chorus
The trial was quickly over, guilt found on every charge
And as they languished in the cells, the scaffold it loomed large,
Each sister blamed the other, as clemency they sought
But they hanged as one in Kirkdale gaol, their pleas had gained them nought
Chorus