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Through The Morning

by Tell Tale Tusk

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Comes in a beautiful 4 panel wallet case, with art work by Jess St James. Jess used lyrics from all the songs to create the images. Design by the outstanding Lotte Brockbank.

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1.
The January man he walks abroad In woollen coat and boots of leather The February man still shakes the snow From off his hair and blows his hands The man of March he sees the Spring and Wonders what the year will bring And hopes for better weather Through April rain the man goes down To watch the birds come in to share the summer The man of May stands very still Watching the children dance away the day In June the man inside the man is young And wants to lend a hand And grins at each new comer And in July the man in cotton shirt He sits and thinks on being idle The August man in thousands takes the road To watch the sea and find the sun September man is standing near To saddle up and lead the year And Autumn is his bridle The man of new October takes the reins And early frost is on his shoulder The poor November man sees fire and wind And mist and rain and Winter air December man looks through the snow To let eleven brothers know They're all a little older The January man comes round again In woollen coat and boots of leather To take another turn and walk along The icy road he knows so well The January man is here at the start of every year
2.
Lady Luna 03:29
How proudly you hang there in the sky, Watching the world as it passes you by Looking down on us, totally judge-less Of all that you see in your gleaming glass eye And as you wait there so patiently, Guarding our den of inequity, You wink at us slowly, so humble, so lowly, Knowingly, cloudily, luminously CHORUS Lady, Luna Wrapped up in your endless blue shawl You’re ever present, even when crescent, Queen of the night and a mother to all How many songs have been written for you? How many of those do you hear? How do you listen, up there in your prison, To our words of loving comparison CHORUS And when there is nothing left to mine, Into your great bosom we’ll climb But until then, only few men, Can actually say that they know you shine CHORUS
3.
A handsome young sailor to London came down, He'd been paid off his ship from old Liverpool town. They asked him his name and he answered them, “Quite, I belong to a family called nine times a night.” Well a handsome young widow who still wore her weeds, Her husband had left her his money and deeds, Resolved she was on her conjugal rights And to soften her sorrows with nine times a night. So she's called to her serving maids Ann and Amelia To keep a watch out for this wonderful sailor, And if ever he happened to chance in their sight To bring her fond tidings of nine times a night. She was favoured by fortune the very next day The two giggling saw him coming their way. They've rushed up the stairs full of amorous delight, Crying, “Here comes that sailor with his nine times a night.” She's jumped out of bed, she's pulled on her clothes And straight to the hall door like lightening she goes. She's looked him once over and gave him a smack And the bargain was struck: no more sailing for Jack. The wedding was over, the bride tolled the bell, Jack trimmed her sails five times, that pleased her well. She vowed to herself she was satisfied quite But she still gives sly hints about nine times a night. Says Jack, “My dear bride, you mistook me quite wrong, I said to that family I did belong: Nine times a night's a bit hard for a man; I couldn't do it myself, but my sister she can
4.
And the story that you’re listening for is the one that she won’t tell It’s the sound of a dawn that’s breaking and a life she lived so well She stood up with her mother and cut her long blond hair All dressed up in their best they shared a whisky on the stairs And she said now are you ready to collect berries from the trees It’s cold outside don’t be surprised if there’s nothing there to see She walked through the morning…. As she was in those fields she lay her head up on the ground Stay right here for just a year all stretched across the mound And a sound across the valley made her sit up in her grave The moss had grown inside her shoes and around her grown a cave The rain had started gently and ran her off the hill It was someone else’s temper that had give the night it’s chill She walked through the morning She walked through the morning She walked all through the morning and she walked all through the night A turning light lit up the sky.. Not a soul came to her sight There they lay together with a crown upon her head And dreamt of all the things that they had never ever said And this light it was changing and dissolving all her sight The man that she was holding near was stolen by the night And the story that you’re listening for is the one that she won’t tell It’s the sound of a dawn that’s breaking and the life they lived so well She walked through the morning
5.
She's like the swallow that flies on high She's like the river that never runs dry She's like the sun beaming on the lee shore I love my love, but love is no more A maiden into her garden did go For to pluck her some wild primrose The more she plucked, the more she did pull Until this maiden's apron was full Then out of these roses she made a bed A scarlet pillow for her head She laid her down, no word she did speak And then this maiden's heart, it did break She's like the swallow that flies on high She's like the river that never runs dry She's like the sun beaming on the lee shore I love my love, but love is no more
6.
The wee birds were lining the bleak autumn branches Preparing to fly to some far sunny shore When the tinkers made camp at the bend in the river On the way from the horse show in Ballinasloe The harvest being over the farmer went walking Along the Feale River that bordered his land And twas there he first saw her, twixt firelight and water The Tinkerman's daughter, The Red Headed Ann. Next morning he rose from a night without sleeping He went straight to her father and made his claim known. In a pub in Listowel they worked out a bargain For the Tinker a pony: for the daughter a home. Where trees shed their shadows along the Feale River The Tinker and farmer inspected the land And a white gelding pony was the price they agreed on For the Tinkerman’s daughter, The Red Headed Ann. With the wedding soon over the tinkers departed They were eager to head on south down the road But the crunch of the iron-shod wheels on the gravel Was as bitter to her as the way she’d been sold. Yet she tried hard to please him – she did all his bidding She slept in his bed and she worked on the land But the walls of that cabin pressed tighter and tighter On the Tinkerman’s daughter, The Red Headed Ann. As white as the hands of the priest or the hangman The snow spread its blanket the next Christmas round When the Tinkerman’s daughter slipped out from the bedside Turned her back on the land and her face to the town. It was said someone saw her at dusk that same evening She was making her way down to Lyreacrompane But that was the last time the settled folk saw her The Tinkerman’s daughter, The Red Headed Ann.

about

The debut EP from the Tell Tale Tusk Folk Quartet is an intimate exploration of folk songs old and new.

Combining their award-winning three-part vocal harmonies with melodious instrumentals, Tell Tale Tusk’s take on folk is full of highly crafted harmonies, virtuosic voice blending and lively originality. As well as inventive interpreters of traditional music from far and wide, the Quartet work collectively on songwriting to add their astute and distinctive voices to the library of modern day folk song.

We're eternally grateful to all the generous folk who helped crowdfund this project and who helped to make it happen!

credits

released October 11, 2017

Fiddle - Anna Lowenstein
Vocals/Guitar/Clarinet - Fiona Fey and Laura Inskip
Vocals/Percussion - Reyhan Yusuf
Additional Percussion - Gabor Halasz


Recording and Mixing - Gabor Halasz, James Arter
Mastering - Peter Fletcher, James Arter
Artwork - Jessica St James
Design - Lotte Brockbank

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Tell Tale Tusk London, UK

Tell Tale Tusk weave spellbinding and award-winning vocal harmonies around melodious instrumentals to reimagine folktales old and give light to folktales new.

Tell Tale Tusk’s take on folk is boundlessly creative: as well as being inventive interpreters of music from around the British Isles, the ensemble are prolific writers, adding their distinctive and astute voices to modern day folksong.
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