Here we are again somewhere in Britain. I should know exactly but the snow has gone over the top of the road signs. Still, thats how it goes when you've been up and down and round about the map like a yoyo in a spin drier for a few months.
We've seen four nationalities of winter so far this year and learned lots of new words like "itinorant" and "#%@~x%!! van!" but it always managed to get us there somehow and, at last, it got us to the studio for this new album of ours.
So once again to each, and all who are part of the heterogeneous collection of villains we call friends (some's in, some's out, and some's waiting for their case to come up) a million thanks for all your help and support whether in the studio, on the road or after closing time.
Cast your bread upon the water and it shall return to you one hundred fold…should anyone require 100 wet loaves write to us c/o JVO 419K; somewhere.
to you all, slaínte
The Geese in the Bog/The Jig of Slurs
This has been our "opener" for the last year and a bit and has been a favourite set of ours even longer than the baby's bottom which was, of course, in two parts.
For some unknown reason Scotland has produced many great drinking songs. This is one of the more gentle, expressing a beautiful sentiment very dear to our own hearts. This version was taught to us in London by an old friend called Duncan Disorderly who, at one point in the proceedings actually dropped pennies down a drain and looked up at Big Ben for his weight.
Tae the Weavers Gin Ye Gang/ The Blackberry Bush
Tradition has it that, at this time, all young women carried a lemon in case of seduction, in most cases (such as this) it was of little or no value as a deterrent, it did, however, take the smile off their laces before they got home…
Farewell to Fiunary/Heather Island
What else can we say, this happens all too often on our travels. The air used here is heather island.
Willie Cummings/The Red Speckled Hen/ Dalena McKay
Here we have a selection of traditional Scottish pipe tunes featuring, by the way of instrumentation, something old, something new, something borrowed, something blew.
The Merchant's Son/Dr. Ross's 50th Welcome the Argyllshire Gathering
At last a blow for women's lib.(sound fellows all) where, being short of a few bob, the young lady in question cons this rich young man out of his money and his clothes.
A crafty girl I'll tell the world,
She winked at him for starters,
She wore a smile on rosie cheeks,
And mousetraps in her garters
Ned of the Hills (or Captain Carswell) /The Yewe wi' the Crooked Horn/ The Marquis of Tullibardine
We have known this beautiful air for many years and, for some reason, have never recorded it. Thanks to the multitude of people who bribed, coerced arid threatened us. This time we got it done
The Gypsy Laddie
Rumour has it that the gypsy in this song was, in fact, a prince. Thankfully, for once, he hasn't started life as a little green amphibian only to arrive at the final humiliation --marriage, to a woman who kisses frogs.
Lady Mary Anne
Possibly our favourite song by Robert Burns, Scotland's most famous poet, song writer, drinker and womanizer. In fact, a success in every field he entered.