Blog Archive for August, 2017

Inspired by the Alfred Hitchcock movie of the same name, this is kinda like a trailer for the film. A fun little project I set myself to encapsulate the essence of the film into a song in a fun way. There’s a little bit of Johnny cash creeping into this one too. This was on my first album, Oxygen 21 and also on a compilation Cd with other train songs.

And if you like it have a listen to the original Oxygen 21 album version below.

A song of healing for all you Wounded Birds out there.

I wrote this as a melody on guitar I think. Then I developed the melody on the violin and brought it back to the guitar. My wife then wrote a poem which included the title, A Wounded Bird and I melded that into the song you now hear.Many songwriters and poets have used the broken wing as a symbol and it intrigued me to play with the concept and see how we could find something hopeful in the story. I hope you enjoy this version of the song.

You are a Wounded Bird
On a road with passers by
You are a Wounded Bird
But they would let you die
Before they broke your wing
They stole your will to fly

Remember your sweet song
Now I only hear your cry
You are a Wounded Bird
Still waiting just to die
I will mend your wing
If you’ll relearn to fly

All the people pray
The foolish and the wisest
All the people say
It’s you who flew the highest
Remember all those days
You can have them back again

Guitar inst

You’re not a Wounded Bird
You can dry your eye
You’re not a Wounded Bird
Here’s the reason why
I only fixed your wing
It was you who chose to fly

You’re not a wounded bird
You can dry your eye
You’re not a Wounded Bird
Here’s the reason why
I can hear you sing
As you embrace the sky

Here’s a version of a song from my Whorls album, recorded last Saturday at the Live Stream Concert, in which I turned W.B. Yeats poems into songs. Your guess is as good as mine when it comes to what this is about! It was part of a show with Everlasting Voices, which went to Tokyo and Hyderabad, India. Both of those trips were extraordinary for me and great experiences. Have you a favourite Yeats poem that I mightn’t know of? Here’s the poem.

MY mother dandled me and sang,
‘How young it is, how young! ‘
And made a golden cradle
That on a willow swung.
‘He went away,’ my mother sang,
‘When I was brought to bed,’
And all the while her needle pulled
The gold and silver thread.
She pulled the thread and bit the thread
And made a golden gown,
And wept because she had dreamt that I
Was born to wear a crown.
‘When she was got,’ my mother sang,
I heard a sea-mew cry,
And saw a flake of the yellow foam
That dropped upon my thigh.’
How therefore could she help but braid
The gold into my hair,
And dream that I should carry
The golden top of care?

This is definitely influenced by the hero story concepts of Joseph Campbell, which also tie in with the creation of art and the fear one faces in putting Art into the world.  So the artist goes to the edge of her known world and into the uncomfortable or exciting area of discovery. Having the courage to go on the journey is an initial obstacle. Then she comes back with her art and doesn’t know whether anyone else will understand what she’s found or created. Campbell says the gold found can sometimes turn to ashes when brought back to the real world.

There’s also an echo of the idea of revolution in here, as I wrote it  in 2016 during the 100 year commemoration of the 1916 Easter Rising.

A plea to humanity to change our ways.

It is an intriguing thing to me, coming from a supposedly neutral country how attached to guns some countries are. From children who grow up in militia or gangs in third world countries, to the right to bear arms in the US. There is the engineering marvel at how intricate a thing it is and the more apparent horrors that come from their misuse. And I can imagine that if it seems everyone else had one that I’d feel the need to have one too. I’m grateful for the fact that it’s not like that in Ireland at least at the moment.

So this song is a plea, perhaps in vain, for us to break down the systems of the past and re-imagine a new world where things work in a more hopeful, holistic, less aggressive manner. It appeals to me to imagine the actual materials, the metal of the guns, being melted and reforged into some new invention that might have a better function. An older technology giving way to a better world. Systems that are ingrained in our culture are very difficult to change, if not impossible but one can live in hope.

Then I guess because of talk of the wall that the US are intending to build with Mexico and the refugee crisis in the Mediterranean I’m considering a world with no borders. Natural borders have always existed and it makes sense that nations developed because of these. The limit to how fast and far people could travel all would have had added to the formation of countries and borders but we are no longer as inhibited by these and maybe it’s not such a weird notion to not have borders anymore or to do away with them in the future. The ultimate physical realization of the internet and the idea of globalism might be a world without borders. I guess there’s a flip-side to that of people losing national identity and language which would be a high price to pay. So maybe this idea is half-baked, but it’s an interesting thought.

It seems the third verse is a realization that most problems in the world are hard wired concepts, that many people share and the only way to change these, is to start changing our thinking or reshape our beliefs to something more worthy of the times, situations and problems of today.