Get all 14 Crosscurrents Music releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Gudrid the Wanderer, Topophilia, From Boston Harbor, Saint Patrick's Day, Crossing the Bar, Set to the Music, She Drank Her Ale at the Bar, In Lilac Time, and 6 more.
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1. |
From Boston Harbor
02:24
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From Boston Harbor we set sail
And the wind was blowin' the devil of a gale
With the ring-tail set all about the mizzen peak
And the dolphin striker plowin' up the deep
Chorus:
With a big bow wow, tow row row
Fal dee rall dee di do day.
The up steps the skipper from down below
And he looks aloft, boys, and he looks alow
And he looks alow and he looks aloft
And it's tighten up your ropes, boys, fore and aft.
Chorus:
|Then it's down to his cabin he quickly falls
To his poor old steward then he bawls
"Fix me a glass that will make me cough
'Cause it's better weather here than it is up aloft."
Chorus:
While it's we poor seamen that are up on the decks
With the blasted rain falling down our necks
And not a drop of grog will he afford
For he damns our eyes with every other word.
Chorus:
Now there's just one thing we all do crave
That he will find a watery grave
We will heave him down into some dark hole
Where the sharks'll have his body and the Devil have his soul.
Chorus:
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2. |
Morton's Return
03:57
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Chorus
Well, I’ll tarry no longer, to Meremount I shall go
And I’ll drink when ere I want to and dance around the pole
Wild women will attend me in the company of friends
Tell them Old Tommy Morton’s come to Meremount again
I first came to these shores, my fortune to find
In the company of Wollaston and others so inclined
Yet cruelly he deserted us bereft and all alone
In this strange and savage country we made Meremount our home
Quite soon we were befriended by a host of Algonquin
They could hunt and trap and fish, but they were not businessmen
Yet we treated them most squarely in all matters of our trade
Sure as night follows day it seemed our fortunes were made
Chorus
To revel in our fortune a May Pole we did raise
And with our native brothers we danced and sang God’s praise
And with our native sisters we often did lie down
Till the laughter of our revels was heard in Plimoth town
Soon word came back from Plimoth that a company of men
Was marching up towards Meremount, our rowdiness to end
We passed a jug amongst us, to fight them was our plan
But when they got to Meremount we were too drunk to stand
Chorus
Well they clapped me into irons and set me out to sea
In a ship set sail for England heavy charges laid on me
Yet no jury would convict me, they freed me from my chains
And I vowed that I would soon return to Meremount again
So we land in the morning, we come in with the tide
For my beloved Meremount I’d cross the whole world wide
It seems what I call pleasure other men mistake for vice
And what others call New England to me is Paradise
Chorus…Tell them Old Tommy Morton’s come to Meremount again
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3. |
Daughters of Liberty
02:26
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Butcher, baker, candlestick maker
Works from dawn 'til setting sun
Printer, poet, soldier, farmer
Woman's work is never done.
CHORUS:
And by that work she set us free
One more daughter of liberty.
Abigail wrote from the farm
"I work from dawn 'til setting sun;
Remember the ladies, my dear John,"
Woman's work is never done. CHORUS
Mistress Mercy Otis Warren
Works from dawn 'til setting sun
For freedom's cause she plies her pen
Woman's work is never done. CHORUS
Mary Salmon your gate will latch
Works from dawn 'til setting sun
Blacksmith work done with dispatch
Woman's work is never done. CHORUS
From Boston, midwife Mary Bass
Works from dawn 'til setting sun
You may depend on her assistance
Woman's work is never done. CHORUS
Priscilla Abbot, at her shop
Works from dawn 'til setting sun
Imports and sells goods from Europe
Woman's work is never done. CHORUS
Liberty makes strong the weak
Works from dawn 'til setting sun
Makes Phyllis Wheatley's instinct speak
Woman's work is never done. CHORUS
Butcher, baker, candlestick maker
Works from dawn 'til setting sun
Printer, poet, soldier, farmer
Woman's work is never done.
CHORUS: And by that work they set us free
Live on, daughters of li-ber-ty!
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4. |
Revolutionary Tea
02:41
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There was an old lady lived over the sea
And she was an island queen.
Her daughter lived off in a new country
With an ocean of water between.
With an ocean of water between.
The old lady's pockets were filled with gold,
But never contented was she.
She called on her daughter to pay her a tax
Of thruppence a pound on her tea,
Of thruppence a pound on her tea.
"Now mother dear mother," the daughter replied,
"I shan't do the thing that you ax.
"I'm willing to pay a fair price for the tea,
"But never the thruppenny tax."
But never the thruppenny tax!
"You shall!" quoth the mother, and reddened with rage,
"For you're my own daughter, you see,
"And sure 'tis quite proper the daughter should pay
"Her mother a tax on her tea.
Her mother a tax on her tea.
And so the old lady her servant called in,
And packed off a budget of tea.
And eager for three pence a pound, she put in
Enough for a large familie.
Enough for a large familie.
She ordered her servants to bring home the tax,
Declaring her child should obey,
Or old as she was, and almost woman grown,
She'd half whip her life away.
She'd half whip her life away.
The tea was conveyed to the daughter's own door,
All down by the ocean's side.
And the bouncing girl poured out every pound
In the dark and boiling tide.
In the dark and boiling tide.
And then she called out to the Island queen,
"Oh, mother, dear mother," quoth she,
"Your tea you may have when 'tis steeped enough,
But never a tax from me!
But never a tax from me!
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5. |
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A Yankee ship and a Yankee crew
Constitution, where ye bound for?
Wherever, my lad, there’s fight to be had,
Across the Western Ocean.
Our captain was married in Boston town,
And sailed next day to sea;
For all must go when the State says so;
Blow high, blow low, sailed we.
Now what shall I bring for a bridal gift
When my home-bound pennant flies?
The rarest that be on land or sea
It shall be my lady s prize.
There’s never a prize on sea or land
Could bring such joy to me
As my true love sound and homeward bound
With a king s ship under his lee.
The Western Ocean is wide and deep,
And wild its tempests blow,
But bravely rides Old Ironsides,
A-cruising to and fro.
We cruised to the east and we cruised to the north,
And southing far went we,
And at last off Cape de Verd we raised
Two frigates sailing free.
Oh, God made man, and man made ships,
But God makes very few
Like him who sailed our ship that day,
And fought her, one to two.
He gained the weather-gage of both,
He held them both a-lee;
And gun for gun, till set of sun,
He spoke them fair and free;
Till the night-fog fell on spar and sail,
And ship and sea and shore,
And our only aim was the bursting flame,
And the hidden cannon s roar.
Then a lifting rift in the mist showed up
The stout Cyane close-hauled
To swing in our wake and our quarter rake,
And a boasting Briton bawled:
Starboard and larboard we've got him fast
Where his heels won t take him through;
Let him luff or wear, he'll find us there
Ho, Yankee, which will you do?
We did not luff and we did not wear,
But braced our topsails back,
Till her sternway drew us fair and true
Broadsides athwart her track.
Athwart her track and across her bows
We raked her fore and aft,
And out of the fight and into the night
Drifted the beaten craft.
The slow Levant came up too late;
No need had we to stir.
Her decks we swept with fire, and kept
The flies from troubling her.
We raked her again, and her flag came down,
The haughtiest flag that floats,
And the lime-juice dogs lay there like logs,
With never a bark in their throats.
With never a bark and never a bite,
But only an oath, to break,
As we squared away for Praya Bay
With our prizes in our wake.
Parole they gave and parole they broke,
What matters the cowardly cheat,
If the captain s bride was satisfied
With the one prize laid at her feet?
A Yankee ship and a Yankee crew
Constitution, where ye bound for?
Wherever the British prizes be,
Though it’s one to two, or one to three
Old Ironsides means victory,
Across the Western Ocean!
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6. |
Constitution and Morgan
02:37
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The Morgan came to Boston harbor under a snowy press of sail,
Past Graves Island light, attended with two tugboats at her tail.
Anchored by Old Ironsides, which made the Morgan look quite small;
I thought I heard an old man say, “They’re damn well useless after all.
“What a big fat waste of money, now they’ve finished all their fun.
Though they once were mighty useful, here and now their time is done.
Old Ironsides said, “All day long, the children scamper on my decks,
College students try my rigging, just to break their silly necks.
Nobody loses limbs or eyes or takes a sword and slays his foe;
It’s nothing like Decatur’s time, or Isaac Hull’s, I’ll have you know.
“I’ve seen the time my full broadside made Guerriere with blood to run;
Though I once was mighty useful, here and now my time is done.”
The Morgan said, “Just yesterday, when off Stellwagen Bank we lay,
Fearlessly a whale came spouting round my sides in sport and play.
First we lowered boats and chased her till she wheeled and turned about,
Then she chased the boats right back until the daylight had run out.
“I’ve seen the time I’d try her blubber, then the blubber from her son;
Though I once was mighty useful, here and now my time is done.”
“Here we both lie in the harbor, clean and painted, spick and span,
Men and women keep us pretty, tell our tales as best they can.
People come from round the world who long the two of us to meet;
Being useless after all -- yes, that’s our job, it’s pretty sweet.
“We’ve outlived our work, thank goodness, time for sitting in the sun.
Though we once were mighty useful, here and now our time is done.”
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7. |
Making Old Ironsides New
03:00
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When Theseus sailed back from Crete, old Plutarch made the quip
Old planks decay, replaced with new, but is it the same ship?
Here in old Boston’s Navy Yard we still use Granddad’s axe
To refit Constitution: she’s the same and that’s the facts.
CHORUS
So here’s to her copper bottom, that once more is hid from view
And to all the copper pennies it took to make Old Ironsides new!
She’s got live oak from Florida to cut the water main
She’s got new trailboards, hawseholes too to run the anchor chain
A hundred planks, each steamed to fit Josh Humphreys’ grand design
Gun carriages and masts and sails, new quarter galleries fine.
Hull's Victory was of cannon, Stewart's victory was of sails
But the victory of the caulkers took three hundred thousand nails.
Twelve thousand feet of copper, each backed with Irish felt
Engraved with signatures galore below her new red belt.
Two years caged up in drydock was our Eagle of the Sea
At nine pm she lifts her blocks, at midnight she sails free.
And if you put your John Hancock on her sides of iron fame
Every fish in Boston Harbor will be proud to know your name!
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8. |
A Medal For Tom Lannon
03:46
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Frame up! Heave up! Haul ‘em up for sail
Hear the Thomas Lannon tell her Gloucester schooner tale.
Thomas Lannon came from Newfoundland and he wed a Gloucester lass
He fished the Essex schooners ‘til the day that he did pass.
Just like a dancing cockle shell his dory rode the wave
The day his mates and Thomas snatched the Eric from her grave.
Off Chatham Bar at Highland Light the wind blew sixty knots
When a northeast gale comes on to blow, there is no rougher spot.
Coal-laden and low-squatted, the Eric lost her mast
For the gale had turned out all the stops like a diapason’s blast.
Frame up! Heave up! Haul ‘em up for sail
Hear the Thomas Lannon tell her Gloucester schooner tale.
Captain Giffin brought the Conqueror down and did his level best
He wagged her jumbo, foresail too, ‘til the Eric came abreast.
Then Thomas in his dory with his brave and true men five
Rowed down to windward of the wreck and picked them off alive.
There are no medals made too large, they said in Boston town
When these sturdy sailors, Gloucester boys, put in to Provincetown.
As brave a rescue, it was said, as men e’er made at sea
Worthy to be told by Kipling, yea, or Connolly.
Frame up! Heave up! Haul ‘em up for sail
Hear the Thomas Lannon tell her Gloucester schooner tale.
Well, Thomas kept his medal, and his son handed it down
To a cousin of young Thomas who grew up in Gloucester town.
One summer he went down the Rock with his wife and children too
Where he heard tell of this brave deed by the granddad he never knew.
Young Tom knew Essex schooners, though today there’s only five
And he set his mind to building one to keep the dream alive.
Four hundred years the Burnhams had been building wooden boats
And Harold, he allowed as how he’d like to make her float.
Frame up! Heave up! Haul ‘em up for sail
Hear the Thomas Lannon tell her Gloucester schooner tale.
The museum down to Essex, they knew where to build a ship
And the Greenbelt boys had timber near to hand her planks to rip.
Hog Island gave her white oak and black locust for her frame
Tom made her sticks of Douglas fir, and gave her his granddad’s name.
They laid her whiskey plank in April, launched her that same June
She ran out on the evening tide under a midnight moon.
And now on summer evenings, the good folk of Cape Ann
Make music on the Lannon when the sunset’s near to hand.
Frame up! Heave up! Haul ‘em up for sail
Hear the Thomas Lannon tell her Gloucester schooner tale.
So here’s a health to Thomas, Gloucester boy from Newfoundland
And here’s one to young Tom for building of this schooner grand.
There are no medals made too large for helping men and boats survive
So we’ll sing this as Tom’s medal, and help keep his dream alive.
Frame up! Heave up! Haul ‘em up for sail
Hear the Thomas Lannon tell her Gloucester schooner tale.
Frame up! Heave up! Haul ‘em up for sail
And help the Thomas Lannon tell her Gloucester schooner tale.
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9. |
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´Tis advertised in Boston, New York and Buffalo
Five hundred brave Americans a whaling for to go
CHORUS:
Singing Blow ye winds in the morning
Blow ye winds hi- oh
Clear away your running gear
And blow , boys, blow.
They send you to New Bedford
That famous whaling Port
And give you to some land sharks
To board and fit you out
They tell you of the clipper ships
A-going in and out
And the say you'll take five hundred sperm
Before you're six months out
And now we're out to sea my boys
The wind comes on to blow
One half the the watch is sick on deck
The other half below
The skipper's on the quarterdeck
A-squinting at the sails
When up aloft the lookout sights
A mighty school of whales
Then lower down the boats my boys
And after him we'll travel
But if you get too near his fluke
He'll kick you to the devil
And now that he is ours my boys
We tow him alongside
Then over with our blubber hooks
And rob him of his hide
When we get home, our ship made fast
And we get through our sailing
A winding glass around we'll pass
And damn this blubber whaling
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10. |
Six Foot Tom
02:24
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Now you've stowed your tack and taters for a sailor's feast to cater
Take a good exterminator when across the sea you rove
For your ship's as good as beaten if your food has all been eaten
And all I ask is shore leave and a place beside the stove
Chorus:
For starvation stalks the sea, but her minions run from me
I find them very tasty, and their teeth and claws don't matter
With more stripes than you'd survive, and three times as many wives
With four in the front and two in the back, I'm Six Foot Tom the ratter!
I don't need gold or copper, just a juicy rat for supper
I don't wear your silly clothing, I don't care for rum or corn
But if you chance to catch a fish, drop the head into my dish
And you've bought yourself a bunkmate when we go around the Horn!
(Chorus)
Those pampered Persian pretties can be very friendly kitties
In Siam the swelt'ring summer's not the only thing that's hot
The cool Norwegian forest's hosted many a feline chorus
And somewhere in Argentina there's a six-foot ocelot
(Chorus)
So make the right decision to protect your ship's provisions
And I'll bring you luck a-plenty, could a captain ask for more?
When you rove with Tom the Ratter soon your fortunes will grow fatter
Just ask any of the tabbies that I've dallied with ashore
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11. |
Cape Cod Girls
01:58
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Cape Cod girls don't use no combs;,
Haul away, haul away!
Combs their hair with cod fish bones.
An' we're bound for south Australia!
Heave her up me bully, bully boys…
Heave her up and don't ye make no noise…
Cape Cod cats don't have no tails,
Lost them all in southeast gales.
Cape Cod kids don't have no sleds,
They slide down hills on cod fish heads.
Cape Cod ladies don't have no frills,
Plain and skinny as codfish gills.
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12. |
The Wellfleet Schooner
03:23
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At Wellfleet in a winter storm she washed up on the shore,
At Wellfleet, up on the shore she came.
A keel, some ribs, some oaken planks – and very little more.
She’s a schooner, but we do not know her name.
Who carved each rib and trunnel? And who launched her in the foam?
At Wellfleet, up on the shore she came.
Where was she built? Where did she sail? Where did her crew call home?
She’s a schooner, but we do not know her name.
She was not a speedy clipper ship to ply the China trade.
At Wellfleet, up on the shore she came.
Not a sturdy whaler for the North Pacific made.
She’s a schooner, but we do not know her name.
This schooner was a workaday ship, her story went untold.
At Wellfleet, up on the shore she came.
Did she fish for cod on Georges Bank? Haul granite? lumber? coal?
She’s a schooner, but we do not know her name.
Did she founder in a winter gale, and fail to round the Cape?
At Wellfleet, up on the shore she came.
Were all her sailors lost at sea? Did some of them escape?
She’s a schooner, but we do not know her name.
Cape Cod girls and Cape Cod boys all flocked down to the shore,
At Wellfleet, up on the shore she came.
To see this stark reminder of a time that is no more.
She’s a schooner, but we do not know her name.
Three thousand ships and more were lost off Cape Cod’s sandy shore;
At Wellfleet, up on the shore she came.
One day a future winter storm may fetch us up one more.
She’s a schooner, but we do not know her name.
This schooner’s a reminder of the long-gone days of sail:
At Wellfleet, up on the shore she came.
The romance and the mystery, the tragedy as well.
She’s a schooner, but we do not know her name.
last: She put ashore for one last time, but we don’t know her name.
And chances are that we will never know her name;
And chances are that we will never know her name.
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13. |
The Loss of the Portland
03:39
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In eighteen hundred and ninety-eight
The battle was over tween sail and steam
Those flying clouds were early or late
And the pocketwatch packet was reigning supreme.
She was tall and white as a wedding cake
The S.S. Portland was her name
A Portland fancy for passengers sake
The pride of the packets from Boston to Maine.
CHORUS:
So blow ye winds from Boston town
She s steaming down east with the Portland mail
Those autumn winds they brought her down
Giving her name to the Portland Gale.
Thanksgiving was over and Saturday come
To India Wharf they did all repair
Time to be saying farewells for home
Two hundred brave souls went on board her there.
The wind did rise at the dogwatch bell
But the Portland Steam Packets they sail on time
Her whistle did sound as the first flakes fell
The last that was heard of a ship in her prime.
She made Cape Ann with her course outside
But the nor easter drove her across the Bay
He d capsize her sure if she went broadside
So he ran out to sea for to hope and to pray.
With her narrow beam and her shallow draft
She could run the rivers with grace and ease
But from stem to stern she pitched fore and aft
And the sidewheeler labored in heavy seas.
Lost that night was the James B. Pace
Lester A. Lewis and Addie Snow
Schooners and clippers that lost the race
Four hundred lives that gale laid low.
The news reached Boston by way of France
Across the Atlantic in sad relay
From New York to Paris, a telegraph dance
For the Cape Cod cables were carried away.
Their watches were frozen at nine-fifteen
Was she lost on the first watch or next forenoon?
Had that pocketwatch packet been early or late
On her final run down to Davy Jones?
A wedding cake sliced by the knife of the wave
She sleeps in the deep where the gale laid her low
The waves they roll o er the Portland s grave
On Stellwagen Bank where the whalefishes blow.
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14. |
The Library Frigates
05:36
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CHORUS:
There [D]is no [G]frigate [D]like a [A]book to [D]bear us [A7]lands away
And the [D]frigates [G]on the [D]library [Bm]wall, they [D]bore me [A7]o’er the [D]spray.
[D]All in the [G]Dirty [D]Thirties in a [G]Boston libra[A7]ry
A [D]wall of [G]ships came [D]sailing [Bm]in to [D]carry [A7]me to [D]sea.
I [D]did my [G]homework [D]‘neath their gaze, I [G]sniffed salt [D]air and [A]tar
Each [D]oil and [G]canvas [Bm]sail was set to [D]carry [A7]me a[D]far.
I crewed the Santa Maria where we knew Columbus well
The Nina and the Pinta, Christoforo’s caravels.
I carried precious cargo for the carracks of Great Spain
And sought the Eastern Indies with Da Gama for his gain.
CHORUS
The Old Armada broke my sword and stripped off my cuirass
Then set me to the galleys in a merchant galleass
I singed the beard of the King of Spain when Dreadnought stole him blind
Then beat the drum for Francis Drake aboard the Golden Hind
I was wrecked aboard Hollandia upon the Scilly Isles
Old Silver Leg he shipped me to New Netherland awhile.
I heard the Clermont whistle running under her own steam
And crossed the pond with Mary, the White Star Line’s new Queen.
CHORUS
I trained my guns on Guerriere aboard Old Ironsides
And thrilled to feel the cannonballs bounce off her oaken hide.
I shipped with Harry, Grace a Dieu, to the Field of the Cloth of Gold
And fought the French on Solent’s shore on the jolie Marie-Rose.
I took command from Ferdinand Magellan of great fame
And brought Vittoria round the Horn through the Straits that bear his name.
I fought Algerian pirates off the coast of Barbaree
And the Red Flag fleet of Chinese junks, the terror of the sea.
CHORUS
I raced with ketch and schooner, learned to fly at fifteen knots
I won the world’s blue ribbon for America, the yacht.
I shipped on clipper, bark, and brig, square-rigger, brigantine
I hoisted topsails, skysails, jibs, t’gallants and lateen.
I swabbed their decks with turpentine until their lacquered brightwork shone
I studied conservation and the history of my home.
I spread my sails the world around, I roamed the seven seas
Then too soon came rolling home to Boston’s libraries.CHORUS
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15. |
The Million Dollar Line
04:01
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They say a sailor's life is very hard
(timme way-hey-hey-AH!)
And the food is always bad
Well, I've come here to tell you
(timme way-hey-hey-AH!)
That there's better to be had.
For I shipped aboard a vessel
The finest ever seen
And I found a place that's better than
The food in Fiddler's Green.
CHORUS:
So haul on your sequins,
We're cruising with the tide
It's a damn tough life for a rich man's wife
On the Million Dollar Line.
The captain vas from Norvay
(timme way-hey-hey-AH!)
Vit an accent so refined.
On caviar and champagne
(timme way-hey-hey-AH!)
He kept us wined and dined.
The waiters all were Germans
Knew the right wine for each glass
The crew was Filipino
Always polishing the brass. CHORUS
The cook was from Vienna
(timme way-hey-hey-AH!)
And he wore a white chef's hat.
His sauces were perfection
(timme way-hey-hey-AH!)
His soufflés were never flat.
There was salmon, steak and lobster
Six courses every day
And seven kinds of chocolate
On the French pâtisserie tray. CHORUS
There's no diesel, shale or whale oil
(timme way-hey-hey-AH!)
Just wine and French perfume
And there's nothing wee and nothing dark
(timme way-hey-hey-AH!)
About the big bright engine room.
The bathtubs are of marble
Two sinks in every suite
And all the bunks are queensize
With freshly ironed sheets. CHORUS
Aloft is the casino
(timme way-hey-hey-AH!)
Three bars and cabaret
In the hot tub on the fo'c'sle
(timme way-hey-hey-AH!)
They'll serve you canapés.
There's entertainment nightly
A Broadway hits revue
Be nice to all the widows
Buy each a drink or two. CHORUS
There's executives and lawyers
(timme way-hey-hey-AH!)
And a Texas millionaire.
A Harlequin romancer
(timme way-hey-hey-AH!)
Won a contest to be there.
Try a guided shore excursion
Salmon fishing in the fjord
Our travel office caters
To the professionally bored. CHORUS
Sail from New York or Frisco
(timme way-hey-hey-AH!)
For India or Japan
And then come home around the Horn
(timme way-hey-hey-AH!)
On our extended plan.
Or become a Suite Potato
With room service and bar
You can sail the seven seas
And never notice where you are. CHORUS
So leave your gold card with the purser
(timme way-hey-hey-AH!)
And he'll collect your pay
And everything's included
(timme way-hey-hey-AH!)
Eighteen hundred bucks a day.
So steal the last mint from the pillow,
For tonight we're homeward bound
With a suitcase full of menus
And an extra fifteen pounds. CHORUS twice
(last time)
Yes, I'll haul out my sequins
We're cruisin' with the tide
It's a damn tough life for a poor man's wife
On the Million Dollar Line.
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Crosscurrents Music Boston, Massachusetts
Lynn Noel brings traditional song and heritage arts online to create community. Lynn has a voice of striking clarity and
power, equally at home in rhythmic chanteys and flowing ballads.
Lynn is a respected song session leader on both sides of the Atlantic and the producer and host of the Mermaid's Tavern online folk club. She is currently Program Chair of the New England Folk Festival (NEFFA).
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Fresh From The Board: Music From The Ocean State Songster, Volume 1
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I've always wanted to be able to listen to Rhode Island Folk music!
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I became an instant fan the first time I heard Alex singing at a jam during tumbleweed a few years back.Since then I have followed whatever I could of their work. Their songs about the Burgess shale and toad mining are my favorites. Don’t miss this stuff!
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Long Time To Be Gone
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Nora Brown continues to bring nuance and resonance to her modern interpretation of Appalachian folk and bluegrass on her latest LP.
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JESSICA's second album was recorded live solely with vocals and piano.
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House and Land
by House and Land
For House and Land, tradition isn’t so much an anchor as it is a springboard toward bold new ideas.
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Songs of my land
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Ancient Japanese folk songs are presented with Western folk-pop arrangements to haunting, elegant effect.
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Dakota Blue Moon
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Gorgeous acoustic Americana from North Carolina, stripped-back and sublime.
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