Posted by: David Harley | July 26, 2024

Motherless Child (demo)

Slide guitar version of the well-known spiritual (Sometimes I feel like a) Motherless Child. [Roud 10072] Probably from the Civil War era or earlier. Arranged and adapted…

I don’t sing it, but a common first verse is:

Sometimes I feel like a motherless child x2
A long, long way from my home

Not to be confused with Motherless Children or the blues Motherless Child or several more recent songs.

Or:

Posted by: David Harley | July 24, 2024

Fairy Gold (demo)

Words and music by David Harley.

For the moment, just an unaccompanied vocal while I work on another project. The words and music are mostly there, but I need to work on an accompaniment when I get back to it. There are many stories about Wild Eadric or Edric, his defiance toward the Norman invaders and eventual capitulation (seemingly historical fact); his marriage to a fairy princess; his imprisonment in the Shropshire Hills, emerging when England is in peril, and his association with the Wild Hunt. The Devil has long been associated with Shropshire, too, the Devil’s Chair being a rock formation on the Stiperstones.

The lyric arose from a sour conviction that in the 21st century we are in as much danger from the misdeeds of politicians and oligarchs, the rise of social media misinformation, and a badly broken electoral system, as we are from dictators in other countries. Like the witches and demons who select their king before the Devil’s Chair on the longest night of the year, it sometimes seems we are only allowed bad electoral choices.

The words have changed slightly since the original recording, as I wanted to make them less UK-centric. I’d like to think that in an age of incoming global catastrophe (and I don’t only mean Trump’s promise to abolish voting), Aedric’s remit might have widened.

In stately halls the dreams are bought and sold
The promises will melt like fairy gold,
While high up there among the Shropshire Hills
Wild Eadric sleeps, his bride beside him still:
Satan sits upon his midnight throne
In judgement on their archaic flesh and bone

The spirits summoned to the Devil’s Chair
Elect their leaders for the coming years.
The Devil surely looks on with a grin
As we condone the enemies within:
The conmen and their masters far and near,
Still feeding on our misery and fear.

Where is the Wild Hunt now? What will it take
To rid this world of devilry and hate?

or:

Posted by: David Harley | June 13, 2024

Rust to Dust (in process)

Definitely a work in progress (hence the change of title, and shortly, audio)… 

August 2024 – words changed slightly since the most recent recording.

Words and music (c) David Harley

I landed badly from a leap of Faith
And Faith no longer talks to me
Though I tried rewriting history
Her story won’t let me be

Cash to ashes, rust to dust
Go for broke and end up bust
The devil drives, where needing must
Dream of love, and fall in lust

Maybe I don’t have the jealousy gene
Maybe Jean’s just not the one
To paint my world a lighter blue
And continue what’s begun

Cash to ashes, rust to dust
Go for broke and end up bust
The devil drives, where needing must
Dream of love, and fall in lust

I was happy with the crumbs from her table
Having no dough of my own
But lately I’ve been begging for Mercy
Only Mercy doesn’t want to know

Cash to ashes, rust to dust
Go for broke and end up bust
The devil drives, where needing must
Dream of love, and fall in lust

(backup)

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »

Categories