Category Archives: Musical

Annie Laurie

Nationality: Scottish
Age: 77
Residence: San Pedro, CA
Performance Date: April 28th, 2015
Primary Language: English

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My informant has a very interesting story. She is Scottish, but grew up primarily in England, near London. Informant’s parents were both very Scottish and so much of who she is surrounds this Scottish heritage. In this particular piece, she outlines much of her story as she is flipping through an old Scottish book of songs that she is showing me. When I asked her about folklore from her past, what comes to mind the most is folk music — as she is a singer. The book is old and falling apart. We are looking at it together. It was printed in 1884… She is gazing lovingly at the book, gingerly flipping the pages. My informant loves music. Everything in her life has to do with singing. She has been a singer her entire life and even now continues to sing in the church choir. Ever since I was little, we have always sung together; it has always been our special bond. She says that I got my singing skills from her. It makes sense then, that we now sit down and for the next 5 hours, go through this book.

 

Informant: “It smells old. It’s so Scottish [laughs] I inherited this book from my Aunt Mary, my sister Anne got it and then it was given to me. Aunt Mary was my mother’s oldest sister, she was the singer and she had all of these old music books. She would have gotten it from her parents. I am McCready but this came from the Riddell side of the family. The McCready’s were once O’Gradys, coming from Ireland and wanted to blend in when they went to Scotland.

I was born in London but what happened was, my parents were engaged for seven years. This was during the depression…they had no money. My father was a good electrician and he wanted to have his own shop. And people needed work done because… he couldn’t get paid but he was doing the work for free for the people because he was too kind. He decided he needed to get a job in London. He worked at the Dorchester Hotel in London and saved up and married my mother in Scotland, as soon as they married they went back to London. They had no money to stay in hotels, none of that. They were married in 1936 and had a nice little flat near Clapham Common, buildings that are still there. I was born at the end of 1938 and the war was rumbling around at that point and they decided to go back to Scotland, they put all of their furniture in storage and they got on the train and I was very precocious, verbally, and my mother says I jumped around all night long singing a soldiers war song, “Roll out the barrel” all night long. They were exhausted. My father had a job keeping the lights on while the fighter-bombers went. I lived in Largs, I have fond memories of that. So we lived there.

Then in 1944 we were back in Glasgow and had a little apartment and my father had his first heart attack and things changed. We came back to England after that. I remember him saying when he was young, they didn’t have trade unions and workers never had any rights….[looking through book]…but here! This is called Annie Laurie..This is one of those things that I’ve known forever. My father used to sing it. My father used to sing in choir, you know.” [She reads the lyrics out loud in her Scottish accent]

 

 Annie Laurie

Maxwellton braes are bonnie,

Where early fa’s the dew,

And it’s there that Annie Laurie,

Gi’ed me her promise true;

Gi’ed me her promise true,

Which ne’er forgot will be,

And for bonnie Annie Laurie,

I’d lay me down and dee.

 

Her brow is like the snaw-drift,

Her neck is like the swan,

Her face it is the fairest

That e’er the sun shone on;

That e’er the sun shone on,

And dark blue is her e’e;

And for bonnie Annie Laurie

I’d lay me down and dee.

 

Like dew on the gowan lying,

Is the fa’ o’ her fairy feet;

And like winds in summer sighing,

Her voice is low and sweet.

Her voice is low and sweet,

And she’s a’ the world to me;

And for bonnie Annie Laurie

I’d lay me down and dee.

 

[Photograph is the inside cover of the book]

The Lark in the Clear Air

Nationality: British
Age: 81
Residence: San Pedro, CA
Performance Date: April 28th, 2015
Primary Language: English

My informant is from England. He moved to the United States with my grandmother and my mother when my mother was 2. He grew up near London and still has a thick British accent, despite having now lived in the United States since the 1960s. When I go to his house to ask about folklore that he may have learned in England, anything a part of his history, he says, “Any folklore I know I have learned through listening to folk songs. Mostly, old English folk songs.” Music means everything to my grandmother and my informant. He excitedly takes me to his cabinet of CDs where he has a plethora of English and American folk CDs. This doesn’t surprise me in the slightest, because ever since I was little, I cannot remember a time when music wasn’t playing in this house. He wants to play them for me. I ask him to show me some of his favorites.

Me: “Is there one song in particular that you really love?”

Informant: “Greensleeves, is a very traditional old English song, probably 17th century. It’s been around forever and been put to music by lots of of different people…I suppose that is quite folksy….Oh this song, [ a song begins to play]… It sings about the things that these people did and how people were like. Some of the songs are about ordinary events. There is one song in here about traditions, how to approach a woman for her hand in marriage. A lot of them are very fun. This one, it’s called “The Girl I Left Behind Me,” and it’s a bout a soldier going to war and leaving a girl behind. Some of these songs are about events, like fairs… [A new song begins to play]… Oh this one is very lovely. Let’s have a listen, shall we?”

 

We sit and for the first few lines he is silent, then he joins in. My grandmother walks in and sits down. She begins to sing along as well.

 

 The Lark in the Clear Air

Dear thoughts are in my mind,

And my soul soars enchanted

As I hear the sweet lark sing

In the clear air of the day.

For a tender beaming smile

To my hope has been granted,

And tomorrow she shall hear

All my fond heart would say.

 

I shall tell her all my love,

And my soul’s adoration,

And I think she will hear me

And will not say me nay.

It is this that gives my soul

All its joyous elation

As I hear the sweet lark sing

In the clear air of the day.

 

This song was on his CD of Traditional English Folk Songs. It was so beautiful. The lyrics are simple– someone who wishes to tell a woman how he feels about her. He is inspired by the lark’s song to make this romantic gesture.

The Miller of Dee

Nationality: British
Age: 81
Residence: San Pedro, CA
Performance Date: April 28th, 2015
Primary Language: English

My informant is from England. He moved to the United States with my grandmother and my mother when my mother was 2. He grew up near London and still has a thick British accent, despite having now lived in the United States since the 1960s. When I go to his house to ask about folklore that he may have learned in England, anything a part of his history, he says, “Any folklore I know I have learned through listening to folk songs. Mostly, old English folk songs.” Music means everything to my grandmother and my informant. He excitedly takes me to his cabinet of CDs where he has a plethora of English and American folk CDs. This doesn’t surprise me in the slightest, because ever since I was little, I cannot remember a time when music wasn’t playing in this house. He wants to play them for me. I ask him to show me some of his favorites.

Informant: “This is a fun one called “The Miller of Dee”...Dee being a river. So the Miller is grinding the wheat. [He sings] “Care for nobody no, not I, for nobody cares for me.” These songs tell you about what life was like then. These are all very well known English songs. If you lived in England, you would know them all, you know? We would sing them in school.”

[He sings the song along with the CD]

The Miller of Dee

There was a jolly miller once,

Lived on the River Dee.

He danced and sang from morn till night,

No lark more blithe than he.

And this the burden of his song

Forever used to be:

‘I care for nobody, no, not I,

If nobody cares from me’

 

I love my mill, she is to me

Both parent, child and wife.

I would not change my station

For another one in life.

Then push, push, push the bowl, my boys,

And pass it round to me;

The longer we sit here and drink,

The merrier we shall be.

 

Then like the miller bold and free

Let us rejoice and sing,

The days of youth were made for glee,

And time is on the wing.

This song shall pass from me to thee

Around this jovial ring:

Let heart and voice and all agree

To sing ‘Long live the King!’.

500 Miles

Nationality: British
Age: 81
Residence: San Pedro, CA
Performance Date: April 28th, 2015
Primary Language: English

My informant is from England. He moved to the United States with my grandmother and my mother when my mother was 2. He grew up near London and still has a thick British accent, despite having now lived in the United States since the 1960s. When I go to his house to ask about folklore that he may have learned in England, anything a part of his history, he says, “Any folklore I know I have learned through listening to folk songs. Mostly, old English folk songs.” Music means everything to my grandmother and my informant. He excitedly takes me to his cabinet of CDs where he has a plethora of English and American folk CDs. This doesn’t surprise me in the slightest, because ever since I was little, I cannot remember a time when music wasn’t playing in this house. He wants to play them for me. I ask him to show me some of his favorites.

He takes out the CD of English Folk Songs and puts in an American CD of folk music…The Best of Peter, Paul and Mary.

Informant: “I love American folk tunes. Newer, of course. This is my favorite. We went to a party and the party was to sing folk songs, and someone handed out the words and I loved the songs but I didn’t know any of them because I didn’t grow up here. This was only about five years ago…but I went out and I bought a CD of folk songs! These are more twentieth century. Which for you, of course, is um… I’ll play you some of these. [Sings] A hundred miles, A hundred miles, A hundred miles… you can hear the whistle blow…. A Hundred Miles…. Wonderful folk songs and protest songs. I’ll play this one for you.”

 

500 Miles

If you miss the train I’m on, you will know that I am gone
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles
A Hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles

You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles

Lord I’m one, Lord I’m two, Lord I’m three, Lord I’m four
Lord I’m 500 miles away from home
Away from home, away from home, away from home, away from home
Lord I’m 500 miles away from home
Not a shirt on my back, not a penny to my name
Lord I can’t go a-home this a-way
This a-away, this a-way, this a-way, this a-way
Lord I can’t go a-home this a-way

If you miss the train I’m on, you will know that I am gone
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles

The informant sings along to the CD and moved around the room during this song. My grandmother is doing the same, singing and flowing to the music. Even though these two did not move here until the 1960s, to me, they somehow are the epitome of the “hippie” generation in many ways. They had very little money but spent their time going on road trips around California and camping whenever my informant was not working. They would take their 4 small children with them, taking them everywhere from the Grand Canyon to Oregon. They lived simply, kindly and with a life full of music. For me, their story… their pictures, their way of life…holds a certain mythology all on it’s own.

What I think is so interesting about this is that folk music, especially, can be learned and celebrated by anyone. It’s timeless, or appreciated for being dated. My grandfather didn’t grow up hearing this song, but loved it the moment he heard it and has now shown it to me. This is a song from my heritage in many ways. From their side of the family, I am very much from the UK, but from my father’s side, I am very American. His relatives were some of the first English/French people to settle in Virginia.

Ye Banks And Braes O’ Bonnie Doon

Nationality: Scottish
Age: 77
Residence: San Pedro, CA
Performance Date: April 28th, 2015
Primary Language: English

My informant has a very interesting story. She is Scottish, but grew up primarily in England, near London. Informant’s parents were both very Scottish and so much of who she is surrounds this Scottish heritage. In this particular piece, she outlines much of her story as she is flipping through an old Scottish book of songs that she is showing me. When I asked her about folklore from her past, what comes to mind the most is folk music — as she is a singer. The book is old and falling apart. We are looking at it together. It was printed in 1884… She is gazing lovingly at the book, gingerly flipping the pages. My informant loves music. Everything in her life has to do with singing. She has been a singer her entire life and even now continues to sing in the church choir. Ever since I was little, we have always sung together; it has always been our special bond. She says that I got my singing skills from her. It makes sense then, that we now sit down and for the next 5 hours, go through this book.

Informant: “Also, I didn’t know the Beatles, yet. But most Saturday nights…we lived in the country, so if you wanted to go in to Birmingham, we had to take buses. We lived in a field, really…In college. Saturday night we hired a bus, I was the social secretary, and we would go in and they would drop us off at the men’s college in town. There was a hop every Saturday night. That was where I met Papa, at the hop. On the way home, there were these two girls, Norene and I don’t know the other one but they were hippies before there were hippies, and they had guitars and we would sing all of these folk songs. We had to be home by 10:30, I persuaded them to let us stay out until 11:00 when I was secretary. Anyway, we would sing this song. I really should be writing things down. I had so many adventures. This one is a very pretty song. [She hums the tune and we read through the lyrics together] This is so Scottish. My parents spoke so Scottish, I thought it was all slang, but I actually realized that there is a Scottish to English dictionary, these were real Scottish words! I always thought they weren’t real words.”

 

Informant sings the song, as I look on in the book. I try to sight read the music but am getting tripped up by the very Scottish lyrics.

 

Ye Banks And Braes O’ Bonnie Doon

Ye banks and braes o’ bonnie Doon,

How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair;

How can ye chant, ye little birds,

And I sae weary, fu’ o’ care!

 

Ye’ll break my heart, ye warbling birds,

That wanton through the flow’ry thorn;

Ye mind me o’ departed joys,

Departed never to return.

 

Oft ha’e I roved by bonnie Doon,

To see the rose and woodbine twine;

And ilka bird sang o’ its love,

And foldly sae did I o’ mine.

 

Wi’ lightsome heart I pu’d a rose,

Fu’ sweet upon it’s thorny tree;

But my fause lover stole my rose,

And ah! He left the thorn wi’ me.