SOMETHING OF VALUE
This is my Bicentennial effort. Inspired by love and concern. Love means never having to sing "I Still Call Australia Home".
KATIE AND THE DREAMTIME LAND
Written for Kate Wolf, a Californian singer/songwriter and a friend of mine. She died of leukemia in 1987. She always wanted to see Australia , never got the chance. This song was born around a campfire near Docker River, NT.
Based loosely on a lot of casualties I've met from that never-ending little skirmish called marriage. In this song the casualty happens to be a female, they still seem to form the bulk of the walking wounded, equality still has a long way to go.
A CHANGE IN THE WEATHER
Written originally for a proposed film of the same name, Set in Wollongong, the film was to be about the exploitation of migrant women in various sweat shops and factories in Wollongong. The film didn't happen, but the song did, Maybe it should have been the other way round.
POOR BUGGER CHARLIE
Aboriginal deaths in police custody, a running sore on the mostly indifferent face of our society. Written by a middle.class white fella (me) and therefore probably quite inadequate.
Rosie is the 15 month-old daughter of two friends of mine, She has cerebral palsy. She also has courage, determination, a sense of humour, big innocent eyes and curly hair In short, she's a sweetie. She also has her father's nose, which may well be her biggest handicap. The nose notwithstanding, I'm betting that she'll grow up to be quite a woman, I'm looking forward to being around to see it.
GOING BACK TO DUBLIN
The tune in this song was written by my old mate John Campbell Munro. I'd promised him for at least three years to put lyrics to it, and here it is, The Irish I've met are always threatening to go back to Dublin, or Cork, or Mullingar or wherever, but somehow never seem to. Emotionally of course, they never left anyway.
THEM OLD SONGWRITING BLUES
A pure indulgence. Creating songs is a frustrating and lonely business at times, and often when you display your new creations to a mostly indifferent world, the critics fall on you like a pack of dingoes. making you doubt if all the frustration and hard work was worth it. It is of course, otherwise I'd still be an accountant. So I take this chance to have a little dig back, especially at those who regard music as a giant valium capsule, something to dull the senses between commercial breaks. God rot your socks!
TWO STRONG ARMS
A song set in Australia, based on the Greek father-in-law of an Irish friend of mine, and written by a Scotsman! Now that's multi-culturalism at work! The tune was written by another Scot, John Campbell Munro.
ACROSS THE HILLS OF HOME (jimmy's Song)
About two years ago, I was sent a short poem called "Across The Hills Of Home". This poem had been written by a Scotsman, James MacArthur Originally from East Kilbride in Scotland, James had lived in Melbourne for many years. The poem was sent to me by his son and daughter-in-law, Bill & Marie MacArthur, and I quote from the accompanying letter: "Jim was found to hove cancer in 1980, and died a lingering death. He always said he didn't want to go home to Scotland, but this poem says different His ashes were scattered in Scotland. He was a great man, and I'm sure you would appreciate this poem of a fellow Scot! hope you do." Well, I did. I added a wee chorus to Jim's original poem, and set it to music, and this song is the result, I'm not claiming. nor would Jim have, I think, that it's a match for Robbie Burns, but as an ordinary man's longing to see his homeland one more time, it carries an honesty and dignity that instantly appealed to me. Sadly, since he sent me the poem, Jim's son Bill has also died, So for Jim and Bill, and for Marie, who loved them both. this song is respectfully dedicated.
This album is dedicated to the memory of Kate Wolf.