***Our Homeland, The Sea- Work Songs Of The Old Tars
CD REVIEW
Blow Boys Blow, Ewan MacColl & A.L. Lloyd, Tradition Records, 1990
This review is a little off the beaten path for this writer. Oh no, not on the subject matter of the sea. There are a thousand primordial links between me and that great swirl of ocean which I will mention below. No, what is unusual is that I would discuss sea shanties, a form of musical expression that is not normally in my world view. I have explored the roots of rock & roll and engaged in the polemics about whether rhythm & blues, rockabilly or country formed the basis of that music revolution. I have gone on and on about the various manifestations of the blues, country and urban, acoustic and electric. I have endlessly discussed the urban folk revival of the early 1960s, ad nauseaum.
I have, moreover, tipped my hat to the precursors of that folk revival by reviewing the work of the likes of Pete Seeger, Woody Guthrie and Lead Belly in the course of which I have discussed work songs, prison labor songs, cowboy songs, songs of the Spanish Civil War and so on. I have gladly thrown a bouquet or two to jazz singers, and to an occasional scat artist like Louis Armstrong. I have even gone down and dirty in bayou country to praise Cajun music. But nowhere have I previously been inclined to give mention to the work songs of the old tars, the sailor/workers of the age of the wooden ship which was the means of "globalization" of international commerce in the early days of capitalist development. I make amends here to the boyos who sailed, slaved and survived on the wide oceans.
As mentioned above, this is a rather strange previous musical omission. I have many serious links to the sea. I grew up in a town so close to the ocean that I probably smelled sea air from an open hospital window the day I was born. From one house I grew up in I could tumble down a hill to the beach. In another I didn't need to even tumble. I have walked more beach miles than I care to recount. I have stood as hurricane winds came up and drove the waves over two double sea walls in an off-hand demonstration of her power. I have, from land and sea, seen cays, bays, narrows, wide empty expanses, and every other form of ocean creation. I have seen oceans as blues as the heavens, and as dark as the darkest night.
All of this is by way of saying, as I have on other occasions in discussing the old hobo skills of `riding the rails' in the days when trains were the common form of fast transportation, the old sailors, as least in their youths (if they had not been shanghai-ed, a common form of impressment), were trying to go THERE in order not to be HERE. And that, my friends, is the link that binds me to the work and off-time songs of the old salts and to their miseries and, few, joys.
So here in these CD selections we get a second-hand chance to listen to what Jack Tar was singing about in the days when men were made of steel, and ships of wood. Or so the lads would have us believe. One can appreciate, as an almost universal proposition, that music makes the hard task of work easier. But behind the singsong nature of the music lies some kind of undefined longing that has haunted humankind since it first walked on two legs. Here, that return to our homeland, the sea. In the meantime though the talk was of getting the sails up; getting a few hours of sleep or sneaking some; worrying over an impeding storm and its effects; dreaming, always dreaming of port and the girls left behind (or to be avoided); and that eternal thirst for that ration of rum, the `nectar of the gods' to benighted seaman (check to "All For Me Grog" for the inside dope on that subject). Listen up, mates.
Note: Probably the most interesting song here is "Handsome Cabin Boy" about the twisted fate of a beautiful young girl who shipped out as cabin boy, whose looks caught the attention of both the captain and his wife aboard ship (to speak nothing of the sex-hungry sailors), and who became pregnant (mysteriously?). I would think that it would take some serious psychological study to get to the "inner" meaning of that little ditty in the psyche of the closed-in sailor. Also give a close listen to "Paddy West", "Blow Boys Blow", and "South Australia".
"The Handsome Cabin Boy"
It's of a pretty female
As you may understand.
Her mind being bent for rambling
Unto some foreign land,
She dressed herself in sailor's clothes,
Or so it does appear,
And she hired with a captain
To serve him for a year.
[The captain's wife she being on board,
She seemed in great joy
To think the captain had engaged
Such a handsome cabin boy,
That now and then she'd slip him a kiss,
And she'd have liked to toy,
But 'twas the captain found out the secret
Of the handsome cabin boy.]
Her cheeks they were like roses
And her hair rolled in a curl.
The sailors often smiled and said
He looked just like a girl.
But eating of the captain's biscuit
Her colour did destroy,
And the waist did swell of pretty Nell,
The handsome cabin boy.
It was in the bay of Biscay
Our gallant ship did plow.
One night among the sailors
Was a fearful flurry and row.*
They tumbled from their hammocks
For their sleep it did destroy,
And they sworn about the groaning
Of the handsome cabin boy.
"Oh doctor, dear, oh doctor,"
The cabin boy did cry.
"My time has come, I am undone,
And I will surely die."
The doctor come a-runnin'
And a-smilin' at the fun.
To think a sailor lad should have
A daughter or a son.
The sailors when they saw the joke
They all did stand and stare.
The child belonged to none of them,
They solemnly did swear.
The captain's wife, she says to him,
"My dear, I wish you joy,
For 'tis either you or me's betrayed
The handsome cabin boy!"
[Now sailors, take your tot of rum
And drink success to trade,
And likewise to the cabin boy
That was neither man nor maid.
Here's hoping the wars don't rise again
Our sailors to destroy,
And here's hoping for a jolly lot more
Lyrics To South Australia
In South Australia I was born
To me heave away, haul away
In South Australia round Cape Horn
Chorus
We're bound for South Australia
Haul away you rolling kings
To me heave away, haul away
Haul away, you'll hear me sing
We're bound for South Australia
2. As I walked out one morning fair
To me heave away, haul away
'Twas there I met Miss Nancy Blair
Chorus:
3. I shook her up and I shook her down
To me heave away, haul away
I shook her round and round the town
Chorus:
4. I run her all night and I run her all day
To me heave away, haul away
And I run her until we sailed away
Chorus:
5. There ain't but one thing grieves me mind
To me heave away, haul away
To leave Miss Nancy Blair behind
Chorus:
6. And as we wallop around Cape Horn
To me heave away, haul away
You'll wish to God you'd never been born
Chorus:
7. In South Australia my native land
To me heave away, haul away
Full of rocks and thieves and fleas and sand
Chorus:
8. I wish I was on Australia's strand
To me heave away, haul away
With a bottle of whiskey in my hand
Chorus:
Paddy West
Lyrics:
As I was walking down London road
I come to Paddy West's inn
He taught me the ropes of a seafaring swob
While he filled my glass with gin
He said there's a ship that's waiting lad
And on her you quickly sign
Her mate is a black-guard her bow is worse,
But she will suit you fine
So put on your dungaree jacket
And walk out lookin' yer best
And tell 'em that your an old sailor man
That's come from Paddy West
Well when I had my drink my boys
The wind began to blow
He sent me up in the attic
The main royal for to stow
But when I got up in the attic
No main royal could I find
So I turned around to the window
And I furled the window blind
So put on your dungaree jacket
And walk out lookin' yer best
And tell 'em that your an old sailor man
That's come from Paddy West
Now suppose we're on the starboard boys
To Frisco we'd be bound
Oh Paddy he called for a length of rope
And he laid it on the ground
We all step over and back again
And he says to me "That's fine"
Now when they ask if you ever been to sea
You can say you've crossed the line
So put on your dungaree jacket
And walk out lookin' yer best
And tell 'em that your an old sailor man
That's come from Paddy West
Now there's a more thing for you to do
Before you sail away
That's to step around the table
Where the bullock's horn does lay
And when they ask "Were you ever at sea?"
You can say "Ten times ´round the Horn"
And Be Jesus you were a sailor
Since the day that you was born
So put on your dungaree jacket
And walk out lookin' yer best
And tell 'em that your an old sailor man
That's come from Paddy West
Blow Boys Blow Lyrics
A yankee ship came down the river.
Blow, boys, blow!
A yankee ship with a yankee skipper.
Blow, bully boys, blow!
And how do you know that she's a yankee clipper?
Blow, boys, blow!
Her masts and yards they shine like silver.
Blow, bully boys, blow!
And who do you think is the captain of her?
Blow, boys, blow!
Oh, it's Bully Haines, th' hoodlum scoffer.
Blow, bully boys, blow!
And who do you think is the mate aboard her?
Blow, boys, blow!
Santander James is the mate aboard her.
Blow, bully boys, blow!
Santander James, he loves us sailors.
Blow, boys, blow!
Yes he does, like hell and blazes.
Blow, bully boys, blow!
Santander James, he's a rocket from hell boys.
Blow, boys, blow!
He'll ride you down as you ride the spanker.
Blow, bully boys, blow!
Blow, boys, blow - the sun's drawing water.
Blow, boys, blow!
Three cheers for the cook and one for his daugher.
Blow, bully boys, blow!
Oh, blow ye winds. I long to hear you.
Blow, boys, blow!
Oh, blow ye winds. I long to hear you.
Blow, bully boys, blow!
Traditional, arranged by Peter Webster.
Blow Boys Blow, Ewan MacColl & A.L. Lloyd, Tradition Records, 1990
This review is a little off the beaten path for this writer. Oh no, not on the subject matter of the sea. There are a thousand primordial links between me and that great swirl of ocean which I will mention below. No, what is unusual is that I would discuss sea shanties, a form of musical expression that is not normally in my world view. I have explored the roots of rock & roll and engaged in the polemics about whether rhythm & blues, rockabilly or country formed the basis of that music revolution. I have gone on and on about the various manifestations of the blues, country and urban, acoustic and electric. I have endlessly discussed the urban folk revival of the early 1960s, ad nauseaum.
I have, moreover, tipped my hat to the precursors of that folk revival by reviewing the work of the likes of Pete Seeger, Woody Guthrie and Lead Belly in the course of which I have discussed work songs, prison labor songs, cowboy songs, songs of the Spanish Civil War and so on. I have gladly thrown a bouquet or two to jazz singers, and to an occasional scat artist like Louis Armstrong. I have even gone down and dirty in bayou country to praise Cajun music. But nowhere have I previously been inclined to give mention to the work songs of the old tars, the sailor/workers of the age of the wooden ship which was the means of "globalization" of international commerce in the early days of capitalist development. I make amends here to the boyos who sailed, slaved and survived on the wide oceans.
As mentioned above, this is a rather strange previous musical omission. I have many serious links to the sea. I grew up in a town so close to the ocean that I probably smelled sea air from an open hospital window the day I was born. From one house I grew up in I could tumble down a hill to the beach. In another I didn't need to even tumble. I have walked more beach miles than I care to recount. I have stood as hurricane winds came up and drove the waves over two double sea walls in an off-hand demonstration of her power. I have, from land and sea, seen cays, bays, narrows, wide empty expanses, and every other form of ocean creation. I have seen oceans as blues as the heavens, and as dark as the darkest night.
All of this is by way of saying, as I have on other occasions in discussing the old hobo skills of `riding the rails' in the days when trains were the common form of fast transportation, the old sailors, as least in their youths (if they had not been shanghai-ed, a common form of impressment), were trying to go THERE in order not to be HERE. And that, my friends, is the link that binds me to the work and off-time songs of the old salts and to their miseries and, few, joys.
So here in these CD selections we get a second-hand chance to listen to what Jack Tar was singing about in the days when men were made of steel, and ships of wood. Or so the lads would have us believe. One can appreciate, as an almost universal proposition, that music makes the hard task of work easier. But behind the singsong nature of the music lies some kind of undefined longing that has haunted humankind since it first walked on two legs. Here, that return to our homeland, the sea. In the meantime though the talk was of getting the sails up; getting a few hours of sleep or sneaking some; worrying over an impeding storm and its effects; dreaming, always dreaming of port and the girls left behind (or to be avoided); and that eternal thirst for that ration of rum, the `nectar of the gods' to benighted seaman (check to "All For Me Grog" for the inside dope on that subject). Listen up, mates.
Note: Probably the most interesting song here is "Handsome Cabin Boy" about the twisted fate of a beautiful young girl who shipped out as cabin boy, whose looks caught the attention of both the captain and his wife aboard ship (to speak nothing of the sex-hungry sailors), and who became pregnant (mysteriously?). I would think that it would take some serious psychological study to get to the "inner" meaning of that little ditty in the psyche of the closed-in sailor. Also give a close listen to "Paddy West", "Blow Boys Blow", and "South Australia".
"The Handsome Cabin Boy"
It's of a pretty female
As you may understand.
Her mind being bent for rambling
Unto some foreign land,
She dressed herself in sailor's clothes,
Or so it does appear,
And she hired with a captain
To serve him for a year.
[The captain's wife she being on board,
She seemed in great joy
To think the captain had engaged
Such a handsome cabin boy,
That now and then she'd slip him a kiss,
And she'd have liked to toy,
But 'twas the captain found out the secret
Of the handsome cabin boy.]
Her cheeks they were like roses
And her hair rolled in a curl.
The sailors often smiled and said
He looked just like a girl.
But eating of the captain's biscuit
Her colour did destroy,
And the waist did swell of pretty Nell,
The handsome cabin boy.
It was in the bay of Biscay
Our gallant ship did plow.
One night among the sailors
Was a fearful flurry and row.*
They tumbled from their hammocks
For their sleep it did destroy,
And they sworn about the groaning
Of the handsome cabin boy.
"Oh doctor, dear, oh doctor,"
The cabin boy did cry.
"My time has come, I am undone,
And I will surely die."
The doctor come a-runnin'
And a-smilin' at the fun.
To think a sailor lad should have
A daughter or a son.
The sailors when they saw the joke
They all did stand and stare.
The child belonged to none of them,
They solemnly did swear.
The captain's wife, she says to him,
"My dear, I wish you joy,
For 'tis either you or me's betrayed
The handsome cabin boy!"
[Now sailors, take your tot of rum
And drink success to trade,
And likewise to the cabin boy
That was neither man nor maid.
Here's hoping the wars don't rise again
Our sailors to destroy,
And here's hoping for a jolly lot more
Lyrics To South Australia
In South Australia I was born
To me heave away, haul away
In South Australia round Cape Horn
Chorus
We're bound for South Australia
Haul away you rolling kings
To me heave away, haul away
Haul away, you'll hear me sing
We're bound for South Australia
2. As I walked out one morning fair
To me heave away, haul away
'Twas there I met Miss Nancy Blair
Chorus:
3. I shook her up and I shook her down
To me heave away, haul away
I shook her round and round the town
Chorus:
4. I run her all night and I run her all day
To me heave away, haul away
And I run her until we sailed away
Chorus:
5. There ain't but one thing grieves me mind
To me heave away, haul away
To leave Miss Nancy Blair behind
Chorus:
6. And as we wallop around Cape Horn
To me heave away, haul away
You'll wish to God you'd never been born
Chorus:
7. In South Australia my native land
To me heave away, haul away
Full of rocks and thieves and fleas and sand
Chorus:
8. I wish I was on Australia's strand
To me heave away, haul away
With a bottle of whiskey in my hand
Chorus:
Paddy West
Lyrics:
As I was walking down London road
I come to Paddy West's inn
He taught me the ropes of a seafaring swob
While he filled my glass with gin
He said there's a ship that's waiting lad
And on her you quickly sign
Her mate is a black-guard her bow is worse,
But she will suit you fine
So put on your dungaree jacket
And walk out lookin' yer best
And tell 'em that your an old sailor man
That's come from Paddy West
Well when I had my drink my boys
The wind began to blow
He sent me up in the attic
The main royal for to stow
But when I got up in the attic
No main royal could I find
So I turned around to the window
And I furled the window blind
So put on your dungaree jacket
And walk out lookin' yer best
And tell 'em that your an old sailor man
That's come from Paddy West
Now suppose we're on the starboard boys
To Frisco we'd be bound
Oh Paddy he called for a length of rope
And he laid it on the ground
We all step over and back again
And he says to me "That's fine"
Now when they ask if you ever been to sea
You can say you've crossed the line
So put on your dungaree jacket
And walk out lookin' yer best
And tell 'em that your an old sailor man
That's come from Paddy West
Now there's a more thing for you to do
Before you sail away
That's to step around the table
Where the bullock's horn does lay
And when they ask "Were you ever at sea?"
You can say "Ten times ´round the Horn"
And Be Jesus you were a sailor
Since the day that you was born
So put on your dungaree jacket
And walk out lookin' yer best
And tell 'em that your an old sailor man
That's come from Paddy West
Blow Boys Blow Lyrics
A yankee ship came down the river.
Blow, boys, blow!
A yankee ship with a yankee skipper.
Blow, bully boys, blow!
And how do you know that she's a yankee clipper?
Blow, boys, blow!
Her masts and yards they shine like silver.
Blow, bully boys, blow!
And who do you think is the captain of her?
Blow, boys, blow!
Oh, it's Bully Haines, th' hoodlum scoffer.
Blow, bully boys, blow!
And who do you think is the mate aboard her?
Blow, boys, blow!
Santander James is the mate aboard her.
Blow, bully boys, blow!
Santander James, he loves us sailors.
Blow, boys, blow!
Yes he does, like hell and blazes.
Blow, bully boys, blow!
Santander James, he's a rocket from hell boys.
Blow, boys, blow!
He'll ride you down as you ride the spanker.
Blow, bully boys, blow!
Blow, boys, blow - the sun's drawing water.
Blow, boys, blow!
Three cheers for the cook and one for his daugher.
Blow, bully boys, blow!
Oh, blow ye winds. I long to hear you.
Blow, boys, blow!
Oh, blow ye winds. I long to hear you.
Blow, bully boys, blow!
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