Category: Albums

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

Orpheus with his Loot (revisited)

Revisiting this song for a book project, I suddenly realized the recorded version didn’t match the words. The ‘Cold Iron’ album has now been updated on Bandcamp, but here’s the MP3 version anyway.

(Backup)

I used to push pens in the City
Being paid to milk someone’s cash cow
I once served my time at a dollar a line
But that’s not the job I do now

A seducer wants words for a lady
A sonnet to melt her cold heart
Though he orders a charm that will open her arms
Cupid’s quiver is empty of darts

The clown wants some words to divert you
And asks me to build him some jests
A wink and a nudge, to distract a harsh judge
But that’s not the job I do best

The emperor assumes that I love him
This bully, this man without shame
He commands me to praise all the lies he portrays
From his seat on the gravy train

Friends of the Fancy, nose to the trough
Trade their vast profits for pain
I can buy with sweet notes my way onto the lifeboat
If I comfort these grandsons of Cain

The rats have abandoned this Ship of Fools
The saints have forgotten to pray
Orpheus counts loot that he earned licking boots
But his tongue is silent today
And this is my text for today

Long Cigarettes, Cheap Red Wine revisited

This is a very old song (early 1970s) I keep revisiting. Old in years, but perhaps not in terms of maturity. This time I went back to it because Ian Semple played a version on his radio show on Coast FM (thanks, Ian!) that I’d not only forgotten I’d cut, but also couldn’t find on my laptop. This version has a slightly trimmed version of the lengthy instrumental (much more recent) with which it starts, and a different take on the actual song. It’s essentially the same track that I used on the Ten Percent Blues album, only I didn’t use the instrumental for that album.

Backup version:

Unusually for me, the guitar is in open G (which I did use a lot more in those days, but mostly for slide). I think I originally wrote it on banjo, which might explain a lot.  The instrumental might reappear on a poetry/music project.

You sing your songs, the stage is bare
There isn’t anyone out there
Sometimes it almost seems that way
And I run out of songs to play

Forget the muzak and the beer
The open mouths, the grudging cheers
There isn’t any better way
To freeload your life away

Back in 1969
I lost someone I thought was mine
That’s the price I had to pay
When I ran out of songs to play

Goodbye, old friend, I have to leave
To prove to myself that I’m still free
I’ll see you in a year or so
And buy the round you say I owe

The long cigarettes, the cheap red wine
The melodies you say are mine
If you find somewhere to be
I hope you’ll save a place for me

David Harley