Mudcat Australia-New Zealand Songbook

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Stewie
Date: 25 Aug 20 - 11:15 PM

I did it again - lost my cookie.

Here's an amusing little poem that my good mate, the late Paul Lawler, put to music. It is by the late John Manifold, a fine poet, activist and editor of the original 'Penguin Australian Song Book'. Perhaps Rich-Joy will post the tune to the website of Paul's music in due course.


ON THE DEATH OF MR HOLT
(John Manifold/Paul Lawler

Only a week before Christmas,
   The happiest day of the year,
They held a wake for Harold Holt,
   And the bigwig guests came here.

Bonnie Prince Charlie came owre the sea
   With Wilson, who never smiles,
And L.B.J. from the U.S.A
   And the king of the Cannibal Isles;

Chaps from Siam and from South Vietnam
   And the Philippines too, I think;
Some for the sake of the free, free world,
   And some for the free, free drink.

They made long speeches and shed loud tears
   To propitiate Harold's ghost,
And the king of the Cannibal Isles got up
   To propose a final toast.

He said: "We have had such a splendid time,
   Such generous Christmas cheer,
We hope you'll be able to drown
   A Prime Minister every year!"

--Stewie.

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: GUEST
Date: 25 Aug 20 - 10:41 PM

Here's another good'un from the pen of John Warner. Kitty Kane is a tough woman who thumbs her nose at convention and not only survives but thrives. Good on her!

KITTY KANE
(John Warner)

I came up the Thomson with thousands of others
When Walhalla's gold wove its wild, shining spell
I was young, I was pretty, I called myself Kitty
I offered the best jewels a woman could sell
A length of fine velvet in well fitting burgundy
Tight round the curves where a man's eye could fall
Lace at the edges and eyes full of laughter
Oh young Kitty Kane was the pride of them all

(Chorus)
I might take a walk by the wild Thomson River
Where the mountain ash rise in the soft misty rain
There's gold in the range and there's gold in the memories
Of the lady of pleasure they call Kitty Kane

The publican brought a piano from Melbourne
I could tell you right now, it was never in tune
But the work-weary diggers came crowding to hear it
When Samson would play in the late afternoon
On nights when Walhalla lit up like a fire
And the miners were roaring some boozy refrain
There would always be eyes lit with lust and desire
And bright gold for evenings with young Kitty Kane

Chorus

There were schemers and sailors and bearded old diggers
Whose tough, hairy hides had the gravel ground in
Young men far from home who still needed a mother
And sad furtive parsons who needed to sin
Rough, drunken brutes with the manners of cattle
Who let me lie bleeding and shaking in pain
I served them their drinks while my bruises were healing
And I laughed and I shone, I was still Kitty Kane

Chorus

I've heard the men singing down at the piano
That youth it soon passes and beauty will fade
But I gave them their pleasure when I was past forty
It's the light in me eyes made me queen of my trade
Though Walhalla now is all merchants and farmers
Whose wives see in me what they think of as shame
I'll die in this valley with fine, singing memories
My name's Kitty Kane, I was best in the game

Chorus (X2)

You can find the song on Margaret Walters' excellent 'Pithead and Fern' album.

--Stewie.

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Stewie
Date: 25 Aug 20 - 10:07 PM

DOWN THE RIVER
(H. Lawson/I. MacDougall)

I've done with joys an' misery,
       An' why should I repine?
There's no one knows the past but me
       An' that ol' dog o' mine.
We camp an' walk an' camp an' walk,
       An' find it fairly good;
He can do anything but talk,
       An' he wouldn't if he could.

We sits an' thinks beside the fire,
       With all the stars a-shine,
An' no one knows our thoughts but me
       An' that there dog o' mine.
We has our Johnny-cake an' "scrag,"
       An' finds 'em fairly good;
He can do anything but talk,
       An' he wouldn't if he could.

He gets a 'possum now an' then,
       I cooks it on the fire;
He has his water, me my tea —
       What more could we desire?
He gets a rabbit when he likes,
       We finds it pretty good;
He can do anything but talk,
       An' he wouldn't if he could.

I has me smoke, he has his rest,
       When sunset's gettin' dim;
An' if I do get drunk at times,
       It's all the same to him.
So long's he's got me swag to mind,
       He thinks that times is good;
He can do anything but talk,
       An' he wouldn't if he could.

He gets his tucker from the cook,
       For cook is good to him,
An' when I sobers up a bit,
       He goes an' has a swim.
He likes the rivers where I fish,
       An' all the world is good;
He can do anything but talk,
       An' he wouldn't if he could

You can find the song on Loaded Dog 'That there dog o' mine' album. They note that the
tune they use is by Ian MacDougall. I can't find any rendition on the Net. There is a tune by Chris Kempster in his songbook (page 12):

Kempster

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Stewie
Date: 25 Aug 20 - 09:25 PM

My apologies, I once again forgot to log in before posting 'Call of the north'.

A couple of decades ago, Bob Bolton posted the lyrics to Alan Mann's 'Windmill run' together with a few notes to assist non-aussies:

THE WINDMILL RUN
(Alan Mann)

The Southern Cross is turning, creaking joints need oiling
There's a finger-full of grease for cog and gears,
Clockwise, ever clockwise, hot-dipped and galvanised,
The blades have turned for fully fifty years.

One day's dawn will find him, astride his faithful Harley
Just a kerosene tin jammed between his knees.
There's a hessian bag of tucker, twitch wire and some pliers,
And his camouflage, khaki dungarees.

Out along the western fence, the three-mile troughs are full,
And it's north along the track 'till deadwood bore.
There's spinifex and mulga, plus the dozen mills or so,
'Till nightfall finds him on an Alcan floor

The Southern Cross is turning, creaking joints need oiling
There's a finger-full of grease for cog and gears,
Clockwise, ever clockwise, hot-dipped and galvanised,
The blades have turned for fully fifty years.

Well, every now and then, there's a breakdown - and he finds it
Depressing as the jammed-up rods he frees.
Fifty head it cost him ... and the crows with bellies full;
Sitting there ... laughing in the trees.

Mostly, though, it's endless toil – adjusting floats and valves,
And checking out the fences near and far.
Visions of the wife and kids – see him through the afternoon,
'Till his nightly destination with the stars.

The Southern Cross is turning, creaking joints need oiling
There's a finger-full of grease for cog and gears,
Clockwise, ever clockwise, hot-dipped and galvanised,
The blades have turned for fully fifty years.

Gone again's another week and he turns up at the homestead,
Just a silhouette against the setting sun,
There's just two days at home, for there's sheep to dip tomorrow.
And a rest before another windmill run.

The Southern Cross is turning, creaking joints need oiling
There's a finger-full of grease for cog and gears,
Clockwise, ever clockwise, hot-dipped and galvanised,
The blades have turned for fully fifty years.

The Southern Cross is turning, creaking joints need oiling ...

Notes:

Alcan: Local brand of aluminium (well, lots of Canadian money in it as well). Presumably the floor of a work shed or store out on the run. Clockwise, ever clockwise: Of course, the blades always turn in the same direction because the tailpiece keeps them pointing up wind Dungarees: Work overalls – in this case ex-army
Fifty head it cost: On these huge inland runs, there is little permanent water and the bore (artesian) water brought up by the windmill may be all there is. A pump breakdown can mean death to all the cattle in that paddock.
Harley: Harley Davidson motorbike? Maybe an old WWII despatch rider's bike, rather than the fat road bikes of today
Hot-dipped and galvanised: They made things to last back then … not that there is much rain to rust windmill blades out in the outback!
Mulga: Low scrubby acacias of the arid interior
Southern Cross: The best known Australian brand of water-pumping windmill (named for the famous southern sky constellation).
Spinifex: Thorny weed - the Australian species is zygochloa paradoxus.
Tucker: Food, supplies
Twitch wire: Binding or tie wire for minor repairs

You can find the song on Loaded Dog 'A Coastline Facing West'. Here is a rendition by Wongawilli:

Youtube clip

--Stewie.

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: GUEST
Date: 25 Aug 20 - 09:08 PM

Cheers Jennie and Sandra.

I'll post a few more favourites from the Dog albums. Bob Rummery wrote the tune for this one:

CALL OF THE NORTH
(J.Sorensen/R.Rummery)

Oh the western wind is blowing
So there’s rain and storm in store
And the teams have long been going
Down the road to Glindawor
To where tropic sun is gleaming
And the fragrant winds blow free
I’ve awakened from my dreaming
And the north is calling me

Chorus:
Oh, the steam is in the boiler
In the expert’s room below
While upon the board each toiler waits
To hear the whistle blow
For the shearing is beginning
And my heart is fancy free
And the friction wheels are spinning
So the north is calling me

From the southward to the nor’ward
Where the long brown tracks wind down
All me mates have hastened forward
To the wilderness from town
Gone! By stony hill and hollow
To where I now fain would be
Where they lead, I needs must follow
For the north is calling me

Chorus

What’s this news I have been hearing
Tidings strange to me indeed
Bidgimia now is shearing
With Sawallish in the lead
Straining camels teams are swaying
From the junction to the sea
Why so long am I delaying
When the north is calling me

Chorus

And so northward I am going
For I cannot linger here
For the starting whistle’s blowing
And the ‘guns’ are into gear
So to be there I am yearning
I will hail the sheds with glee
For the friction wheels are turning
And the north is calling me

Chorus

The song is on 'Dusty gravel road'. Here is a rendition by Wongawilli:

Youtube clip

My mate, Phil Beck from Perth, and I once presented a themed concert 'Songs of Separation' which included 'Call of the north'. For those who may be interested, here are Phil's remarks about the life of Jack Sorensen:

Sorenson was amongst other things a shearer and a pugilist (at one time welter weight champion of WA) who once said you had to be prepared to be the latter if you were going to pretend to be the former in and around a shearing shed in the outback. In other words that one needs to be a hard man in a hard environment.

Born in Western Australia he began his working life as an orchardist on his family's property in Perth, and then worked as a shearer on stations in the Murchison, Gascoyne and Kimberleys. Returning to Perth, Sorensen took up employment with Mr Sampson, a local MP, who was influential in having some of his early poems published in local papers.   Throughout his life he drew on his early bush experiences to write poetry and songs mainly about life in rural Western Australia, often with an environmental theme. He clearly loved the bush and the sense of peace that living in the outback can bring.

The outbreak of war evoked in Sorensen a sense of doom that was to haunt him forever. The death of his friend and mentor, Mr Sampson had a further detrimental effect on his mental health to the point that he was discharged from the military. Not long after his discharge, his mother also died, further deepening his melancholia.

Seeking happier times, Sorensen set out for the Kimberleys searching for that inner peace that he’d felt in the north of WA in earlier years. This song, probably written around that time, revolves around the start of the shearing season in northern Western Australia. The Bidgemia mentioned is a reference to Bidgemia Station located on the south bank of the Gascoyne River. Sawallish refers Bob Sawallish a gun shearer of the time. Mullewa, inexplicably referred to as Glindawor in our version of the song, is a shire in mid west WA.

Sadly the inner peace Sorensen sought eluded him, so in 1949, he decided to fulfil his lifetime dream of going to the Queensland outback. He sailed from Fremantle, but never reached his goal, for it was on the ship in Sydney, just a week or so short of his destination that Jack decided his life was no longer worth living.

--Stewie.

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 25 Aug 20 - 11:28 AM

thanks for the memories, Stewie, I need to locate my Loaded Dog CDs from wherever they are hiding.

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Stewie
Date: 25 Aug 20 - 12:19 AM

PADDY'S BACK
(Alan Ralph)

Father had a soft spot for the men out on the track
And somehow Paddy featured regularly
He worked upon the rabbit-proof and when he came to town
He'd doss down in our shed for a week or three
He'd spend his days in the town's hotels drinking pinkie wine
And shouting drinks for almost all the town
We'd feed his horse and dog and keep them watered regularly
And when he left, he'd give us half-a-crown

Chorus:
And the spring-cart tracks led through our gate
His horse and dog were there
We ran to mother, shouting out the news
'Paddy's back from the rabbit-proof, he's in from way outback
And I'll bet he's down at the Federal getting boozed'

When Paddy staggered home alone or on a copper's arm
We'd take him down some supper on a tray
A plate of snags and murphys or mother's shepherd pie
He thought it like a banquet, so he'd say
And often when we'd go out to the outhouse in the night
We'd hear old Paddy talking to his dog
Or singing Irish melodies or spieling to the stars
He'd stay a gentle man despite the grog

Chorus

When his money was all gone, then father told him so
His clothes were laundered, he was scrubbed and shaved
He'd join us at the table and tell stories of the bush
Us kids would listen spellbound to his tales
Then next day he'd load his cart up with stores to see him through
And father'd slip some pinkie in the back
He'd head off to the rabbit-proof to check along the fence
And we'd watch him disappear along the track

Chorus

At christmas time there'd always be a parcel for us kids
That Paddy got the local store to send
And one year I remember when he really got it right
Tin soldiers in a box - a hundred men
Father would get a cherry pipe, a tablecloth for mum
The gifts were better than a lump of gold
A flask of Irish whisky was what father'd give to him
To frighten off the snakes and beat the cold

Chorus

But somehow Paddy drifted from our lives as we grew up
I often wonder where old Paddy went
Did he meet a childhood sweetheart and settle down in town
Or did he die out by that lonely fence
The snake that killed his old blue heeler, did it get him too
Or did he strike it rich in someone's will
Either way I still can hear those Irish melodies
And tin soldiers march across the table still

Chorus

That cracker of a song was written from an old-timer's recollections of growing up in country Western Australia. It is on Loaded Dog's 'Dusty gravel road' album. Alan Ralph is not a member of the group. His song was published in 'The West Australian'.

--Stewie.

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: JennieG
Date: 25 Aug 20 - 12:10 AM

You are doing a great job, Stewie!

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 24 Aug 20 - 11:37 PM

Loaded Dog are fantastic, they turned up at Jamberoo years ago & I had hopes of booking them for the Loaded Dog Folk Club, but alas, they never came east again. I think they had a grant from some Govt agency to travel that year.

Poison Train is one of the best session songs, & we've had it many a time at the Dog, often sung by Margaret & Bob Fagan. The Dog is run by singers for a singing audience. I remember the first time I went to another club after a friend took over the Dog in 1995 & NO-ONE SANG ALONG!

sung by Chloe & Jason Roweth https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=45fvCPqTm8M

Subject: ADD: The poison train ^^
From: Stewie - PM
Date: 04 Mar 00 - 08:52 PM

THE POISON TRAIN
(Michael O'Rourke)

This old town has had its day
All the people moved away
And the houses standing empty
In the dry and the dusty day
No one cares for this old town
Now the money's not around
And the railway lines are rusty
And the station's falling down

Chorus:
There's a light down the line
Let it shine, shine, let it shine
There's a camp down the way
All the fettlers will be coming home today

When the railway opened here
All the gutters flowed with beer
And the people stood beside the line
To watch and wave and cheer
All the speeches that were made
When the bosses smiled and said
'The good times are just beginning
Follow us and you'll go ahead'

Chorus

Well, they built the street so wide
It would be a thing of pride
To walk across it drunk
Or throw a stone to the other side
And the buildings grew so tall
You would tremble at the fall
But they've just dried out
And you would never know
There was anyone there at all

Chorus

I still hear the tall man say
To the children at their play
'You'd better go home early
And you'd better stay away
Stay away from the line
Can't you hear the railway humming
The grass has grown too tall
And the poison train is coming

Chorus

You feel sorry for the grass
All it did was grow too fast
All the weapons used against it
It was never made to last
And the man and his offsider
Are all dressed in black
As the poison train goes through the town
And blisters all the track

Chorus

Well, it never lasted long
Half the town was packed and gone
And everybody was afraid
To be left there alone
All the people stayed away
And there was no celebration
Nobody made a speech the day
They closed the railway station

Chorus

Published by Greenhouse Publications. Source: Roy Bailey 'New Directions in the Old' Fuse CFCD 402. Recorded by 'Mike O'Rourke on 'Flying Pieman' 1980.
PS.

The image of the 'Poison Train' is used by O'Rourke to describe the decay of outback towns that grew too quicly. The fast-growing grass around the railway tracks has to be burnt back.

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Stewie
Date: 24 Aug 20 - 11:21 PM

DUSTY GRAVEL ROAD
(Alan Mann)

Have you travelled northwards past the slime dumps of Kalgoolie
Out upon the old Broad Arrow Road
Have you seen the heaps of mullock like the tombstones in a graveyard
That signify the finding of a lode
Have you ever stopped to wonder how many picks and shovels
And aching muscles on bodies young and old
Would have scraped the dust of legend, the clay and the ironstone
Searching for a dish of yellow gold

Chorus:
For the passing of some years seats you in a four-wheel-drive
The exhaust pipe leaves your sweat and your worries far behind
The air-conditioned faint north-easter blows cool air across your mind
Travelling on the dusty gravel road

Well ahead there's corrugations and you spot the blackened carcass
Of a tyre gone to pieces on the side
Christ, what happens if you break down - the petrol tank is holed
Or, worst of all, the grog supply runs dry
Like the heroes in that legend maybe you'll walk a while
Maybe you'll get lucky, hitch a ride
But would you push your barrow, loaded up with life's possessions
Like some of them damn near three hundred mile

Chorus

At the turnoff there's some diggings and you stop to rest a while
As nightfall pulls the curtain on the day
By the last few glints of sunlight something on that yonder hillside
Beckons you to come and walk that way
Glittering in the gully, piles of champagne bottles
Signs they caught up with the golden fate
And you lift the flimsy flip-top from a frosty ice-cold can
And you join their celebration just eighty years too late

Chorus

Alan Mann, a fine musician and songwriter, has been part of the West Australian folk scene for ever. 'Dusty gravel road' is the title track of an album by Loaded Dog. In respect of this song, Alan noted: 'The first prospectors had a great and intimate understanding of the goldfields country. It was not until 1986 that the output of gold in Western Australia exceeded that of the halcyon year of 1904'.

Unfortunately, the only clip of Loaded Dog on the Net is the one I posted re 'Waltzing Matilda'. Loaded Dog's website has disappeared. They have 4 excellent CDs. If any 'cattier is interested in obtaining their music, send me a personal message and I will put you in touch.

--Stewie.

Subject: Lyr Add: SERGEANT SMALL
From: Stewie
Date: 24 Aug 20 - 10:24 PM

SERGEANT SMALL

I went broke in western Queensland in 1931
Nobody would employ me so my swag carrying begun
I came down into Charleville through all the western towns
I was on my way to Roma destination Darling Downs

My pants were getting ragged my boots were getting thin
But when I stopped at Mitchell a goods train shunted in
I heard the whistle blowing and looking out could see
She was on her way to Roma it was quite plain to me

Chorus
I wish I was about twenty stone and only seven feet tall
I'd go back to western Queensland and beat up Sergeant Small

Now as I sat and watched her inspiration's seed was sown
I remembered the government slogan: Here's the railway that you own
By this time the sun was setting and the night was getting nigh
So I gathered my belongings and took her on the fly

When we got into Roma I kept my head down low
I heard a voice say "Any room, mate?" I answered "Plenty Bo"
"Come out of there my noble man" came the voice of Sergeant Small
"I have trapped you very nicely - you've ridden for a fall"

The judge was very kind to me he gave me thirty days
Saying "Maybe this will help to cure your rattler jumping ways"
So if you're down and outback boys I'll tell you what I think
Stay off those Queensland goods trains for they're a short cut to the clink

Youtube clip

--Stewie.

Subject: Lyr Add: LAST COAL TRAIN (Paul Wookey)
From: Stewie
Date: 24 Aug 20 - 10:02 PM

Sandra, it looks like it is down to us. I don't mind posting some more - our moderator can always chuck 'em out.

LAST COAL TRAIN
(Paul Wookey)

No more black-faced miners
Buying carbide at the store
All the lamps that lit the darkness
Are hangin’ empty by the door
And the chilly winds that blow no good
Have blown no good once more
And the last coal train is leavin’ town

No more kids out on the trestle bridge
Playin’ that dangerous game
You’ll never have to mend a broken track
Or drive the spike again
You can leave the sleepers rotting
The signals rusting in the rain
‘Cause the last coal train is leavin’ town

You’ll never have to feed a family
Upon a striker’s pay
You’ll never have to fight for what’s yours by right
In this game that rich men play
And for the first time in a long time
You might see the light of day
And the last coal train is leavin’ town

So the word came down from Melbourne
Said they’ve got to close the mine
Oh we can’t afford to dig it out
We’ll just have to leave it lyin’
With all the men who died in 20 shafts
Who’ll lie there for all time
And the last coal train is leavin’ town

Youtube clip

Paul Wookey, was raised in the Dandenong Ranges. An excellent singer and guitarist, he was heavily influenced by American folk, blues and country. He had a solid reputation in Melbourne’s folk clubs – Traynor’s, Outpost Inn and One-C-One. A fine example of his original work is 'The Last Coal Train' which he noted ‘was the last coal train that left Wonthaggi some time in 1968 after the coal mines were finally closed down. It represents the passing of a period in Australian history – the generational move from the land to the city, the loss of country jobs, the dislocation of the pre-war generation.

--Stewie.

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Stewie
Date: 23 Aug 20 - 10:23 PM

I don't know what happened in my above post, but it seems that my signature became the
link to Youtube.

--Stewie.

Subject: Lyr Add: NORTHWARD TO THE SHEDS (Will Ogilvie)
From: Stewie
Date: 23 Aug 20 - 10:17 PM

Here's another fine Ogilvie poem that has been put to music. At this very moment, due to COVID-19, there are challengers to bringing in the NZ shearers needed to do the job in Oz.

NORTHWARD TO THE SHEDS
(Will Ogilvie)

There's a whisper from the regions out beyond the Barwon banks
There's a gathering of the legions and a forming of the ranks
There's a murmur coming nearer with the signs that never fail
And it's time for every shearer to be out upon the trail

Chorus:
For the western creeks are calling,
And the idle days are done
With the snowy fleeces falling,
And the Queensland sheds begun

They must leave their girls behind them and their empty glasses too,
For there's plenty left to mind them when they cross the dry Barcoo
There'll be kissing, there'll be sorrow much as only sweethearts know
But before the noon tomorrow they'll be singing as they go

Chorus

There is shortening of the bridle, there is tightening of the girth
There is fondling of the idol that they love the best on earth
Northward from the Lachlan River and the sun-dried Castlereagh
Outward to the Never-Never ride the ringers on their way

Chorus

From the green bends of the Murray, they have run their horses in
For there's haste and there is hurry when the Queensland sheds begin
On the Bogan they are bridling, they are saddling on the Bland,
There is plunging and there's sidling -- for the colts don't understand
      
Chorus

They will camp below the station, they'll be cutting peg and pole
Rearing tents for occupation till the calling of the roll
And it's time the nags were driven, and it's time to strap the pack
For there's never licence given to the laggards on the track

Chorus

Hark the music of the battle: it in time to bare our swords!
Do you hear the rush and rattle as they tramp along the boards?
They are past the pen-doors picking light-wooled weaners one by one
I can hear the shear-blades clicking, and I know the fight's begun!

Ted Egan printed the complete Ogilvie poem in his 'The Shearers: Songbook', but the clip on Youtube for 'Northward to the sheds' has 3 stanzas only - the song begins at the 2-minute mark.

Gerry Hallom also messes with and shortens the Ogilvie text, but it's worth a listen:



--Stewie.

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 23 Aug 20 - 09:59 PM

In Sydney the Redfern Shanty club does a great version of "Broome" & it might be on their facebook page as it's not on their Reverbnation page
I met Ted Egan at Illawarra Folk Festoval one year & suggested he see Shanty club as thy were on the program, I hope he got to see them

When you get (got! preCovid) a legal maximum for the premises of 45 mainly young singers all roaring out a shanty or sea song under the instruction to the newcomers "if you don't know the words, sing louder" it is magic. One day they will be back.

sandra

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Stewie
Date: 22 Aug 20 - 11:00 PM

Please ignore my previous post. It appears the Youtube link was correct. Somehow when I first clicked it, the Nakamura clip came up. I'll go and lie down.

--Stewie.

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Stewie
Date: 22 Aug 20 - 10:55 PM

My apologies, the Youtube link in my previous post was the wrong one.

It should have been:

Back to Broome

Where are other Oz 'catters? Is our thread moderator going to post any songs?

--Stewie.

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Stewie
Date: 22 Aug 20 - 10:44 PM

Another Ted Egan song posted by rich-joy. 'Back to Broome always feature in 'uglies' at Top Half Folk Festivals here in the Northern Territory.

Mudcat thread

Youtube clip

--Stewie

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Stewie
Date: 22 Aug 20 - 10:23 PM

Another fine song relating to an immigrant worker is Ted Egan's 'Sayonara Nakamura' - one of his best:

Mudcat thread

Youtube clip

--Stewie.

Subject: Lyr Add: THE COOMA CAVALIERS (Ulik O'Boyle)
From: Stewie
Date: 22 Aug 20 - 09:30 PM

Always great fun to sing - from 60's group The Settlers:

THE COOMA CAVALIERS
(Ulik O'Boyle)

From Jindabyne tunnel and 'round Island Bend
We boys go to Cooma, our money to spend
And we'll buy youse one beer there if you happen to see
Four Italians, three Germans, two Yugoslavs and me

Chorus
Now we may not be diggers but we'll have you know
We're digging the tunnels up here in the snow

It's dark in that tunnel and the work she is rough
By the time it hits payday we all have enough
So we rush into Cooma to have us one spree
Four miners, three fitters, two chippies and me

We pull up in Sharp Street by the Alpine Hotel
If you've been to Cooma you'll know this place well
Before we get inside our order rings out
Four vinos, three schnappses, two slivovitz, one stout

Well I guess we got-a noisy, though no-a harm did we mean
Singing "O Solo Mio" and "Lili Marlene"
Some Aussies went crook 'cos they didn't agree
With four singing, three marching, two dancing and me

We may not be diggers but we'll have you know
The barmen all love us up here in the snow

The barman stood up then with a snarl on his face,
He said: "You Europeans, you're a flipping disgrace,
Stop drinking those queer drinks if you want to stop here
Become integrated drink our Aussie beer.

So we switched on to schooners and to the bar's cheers
Sang "Waltzing Matilda" and "Click Go The Shears"
For hours and hours without any cease
'Till the sudden arrival of the Cooma police

Now we may not be diggers but we'll have you know
We're regular swiggers up here in the snow

In a furious moment, the whole bar was cleared
And no sign remained of those Aussies that cheered
So the coppers locked up then - unfair you'll agree -
Four Italians, three Germans, two Yugoslavs and me

Now we're back in that tunnel as broke as can be
For it cost us a fortune to bail ourselves free
But before you start laughing let me make it clear
It was worth it Australia for the sake of your beer

We may not be diggers, but we'll have you know
We dig digger beer up here in the snow

Youtube clip

--Stewie.

Subject: Lyr Add: THE REEDY LAGOON
From: Stewie
Date: 21 Aug 20 - 11:52 PM

The late Danny Spooner recorded this little gem on his final album 'Home'. Danny noted that a 1935 article identified the author as Jimmy Connors. If that is correct, it passed into oral tradition. The version below was collected here in the Northern Territory by Geoff and Nancy Wills. The song was published in the Stewart & Keesing, John Manifold (Penguin) and Ron Edwards books of Australian folk songs.

THE REEDY LAGOON

The sweet-scented wattle sheds perfume around,
Enticing the bird and the bee;
As I lie at my rest in a fern-covered nest
In the shade of a currajong tree;
High up in the air I can hear the refrain
Of a butcher-bird piping its tune,
For the spring, in her glory, has come back again
To the banks of the Reedy Lagoon.

I've carried my bluey for many a mile,
My boots they are worn out at the toe;
And I'm dressing, this season, in a far different style,
To that of last season, God knows!
My cooking utensils, I'm sorry to say,
Consist of a knife and a spoon.
And I've dry bread and tea, in my battered jack-shay
On the banks of the Reedy Lagoon.

Where is old Frankie, man how could he ride,
And Johnny, the kind-hearted boy;
They tell me that lately he's taken a bride,
A benedict's life to enjoy.
And Big Mac, the Scotchman; I once heard him say,
That he wrestled the famous Muldoon:
But they're all far away, and I'm lonely today
On the bank of the Reedy Lagoon.

Now where is that lassie I oft-times caressed,
The girl with the sad dreamy eyes?
She pillows her head on another man's breast,
While he tells her the very same lies.
My bed she would hardly be willing to share,
Where I camp by the light of the moon.
But it's little I care, cos I couldn't keep square
On the bank of the Reedy Lagoon.

Martyn Wyndham-Read recorded on his 'A rose from the bush' LP and noted: 'I would take this song with me to a desert island, as it brings home so much of Australia and the smell of the bush to me'. I first heard it recorded by Gordon Bok on his 'Seal Djiril's Hymn' album. He sticks pretty close to the Wills text.

Youtube clip

--Stewie.

Subject: Lyr Add: PAST CARIN’ (Henry Lawson)
From: Stewie
Date: 21 Aug 20 - 10:22 PM

My favourite rendition of another beaut Lawson poem:

Riogh

PAST CARIN’
(Henry Lawson)

Now up and down the siding brown
The great black crows are flyin’
And down below the spur, I know
Another `milker's' dyin';
The crops have withered to the ground,
The tank's clay bed is glarin'
But from my heart no tear nor sound
For I have gone past carin' —

Through death and trouble, turn about
Through hopeless desolation
Through flood and fever, fire and drought
Through slavery and starvation
Through childbirth, sickness, hurt and blight
And nervousness and scarin'
Through bein' left alone at night
I've got to be past carin'.

Our first child took, in days like these
A cruel week in dyin'
All day upon her father's knees,
Or on my poor breast lyin'
The tears we shed, the prayers we said
Were awful, wild, despairin'
I've pulled three through and buried two
Since then, and I'm past carin'.

T’was ten years first, then came the worst
All for a dusty clearin'
I thought, I thought my heart would burst
When first my man went shearin'
He's drovin' in the great North-west
I don't know how he's farin’
For I, the one that loved him best
Have grown to be past carin'.

My eyes are dry, I cannot cry
I've got no heart for breakin'
But where it was in days gone by
A dull and empty achin'
My last boy ran away from me
I know my temper's wearin'
But now I only wish to be
Beyond all signs of carin’
Past wearyin' or carin'
Past feelin' and despairin';
And now I only wish to be
Beyond all signs of carin'.

--Stewie.

Subject: Lyr Add: THE SWAGGIES HAVE ALL WALTZED MATILDA AWA
From: Stewie
Date: 21 Aug 20 - 10:08 PM

At a themed concert that my mate Phil Beck and I presented at a folk festival in Tasmania, Phil had this to say about another Alistair Hulett belter:

'"The Swaggies Have All Waltzed Matilda Away" is from the pen of the song writer non-pariel, Alistair Hulett. It’s really a potted history of the foundation of Australia as we know it, and refers not only to the transportation of convicts but also to the dispossession of the Aboriginal lands to the newcomers. I’m sure I remember Alistair telling me that he wrote the song as an entry into an Australia Day song-writing competition and this was his ‘up yours’ take on the thing. Whatever, it’s an optimistic song and says that whatever our people in the end, we all ought to be united".

THE SWAGGIES HAVE ALL WALTZED MATILDA AWAY
(Alistair Hulett)

You came to this country in fetters and chains
Outlaws and rebels with numbers for names
And on the triangle were beaten and maimed
Blood stained the soil of Australia
Dookies and duchesses, flash lads and whores
You worked their plantations and polished their floors
Lived in their shadow and died in their wars
Blood stained the soil of Australia

Chorus:
Does it quicken your heart beat
To see tar and concrete
Cover the tracks of the old bullock dray
Have you grown so heartless
To christen it progress
When the swaggies have all waltzed Matilda away

Driven like dogs from your own native home
Hardship and poverty caused you to roam
Over the bracken and over the foam
Blood stained the soil of Australia
Then in the fever for fortune and fame
You caused the poor blacks to suffer the same
Imprisoned on missions or hunted for game
Blood stained the soil of Australia

Chorus

It's two hundred years since you came to this land
Betrayed by the girl with the black velvet band
And still to this day you don't understand
Blood stained the soil of Australia
Koori and white, old Australian and new
Brothers and sisters of every hue
The future is ours, take the wealth from the few
And raise the Red Flag in Australia

Let it quicken your heart beat
The road's at your own feet
Travel it lightly and travel it well
And don't speak of success
Or christen it progress
Til the swaggies can all waltz Matilda as well

[Repeat last 3 lines of final chorus]

Hulett recorded it first with Roaring Jack. Unfortunately, although there are clips by Roaring Jack on YouTube, this is not among them. However, Wongawilli do a fine rendition, but they replace Hulett's 'red flag' with 'true flag'. Bowdlerism!

Youtube clip

--Stewie.

Subject: Lyr Add: THE SLIPRAIL AND THE SPUR (Henry Lawson)
From: Stewie
Date: 21 Aug 20 - 09:42 PM

I first heard a lovely setting of another Lawson classic on a home-recorded cd of Brian Mooney given to me by his fellow Tasmanian, Mike Manhire.

THE SLIPRAIL AND THE SPUR
(Henry Lawson)

The colours of the setting sun
Withdrew across the Western land -
He raised the sliprails, one by one,
And shot them home with trembling hand;
Her brown hands clung - her face grew pale -
Ah! quivering chin and eyes that brim! -
One quick, fierce kiss across the rail,
And, "Good-bye, Mary!" "Good-bye, Jim!"

Oh, he rides hard to race the pain
Who rides from love, who rides from home;
But he rides slowly home again,
Whose heart has learnt to love and roam.
A hand upon the horse's mane,
And one foot in the stirrup set,
And, stooping back to kiss again,
With "Good-bye, Mary! don't you fret!

When I come back" - he laughed for her -
"We do not know how soon 'twill be;
I'll whistle as I round the spur -
You let the sliprails down for me."
She gasped for sudden loss of hope,
As, with a backward wave to her,
He cantered down the grassy slope
And swiftly round the darkening spur.

Black-pencilled panels standing high,
And darkness fading into stars,
And, blurring fast against the sky,
A faint white form beside the bars.
And often at the set of sun,
In winter bleak and summer brown,
She'd steal across the little run,
And shyly let the sliprails down,

And listen there when darkness shut
The nearer spur in silence deep,
And when they called her from the hut
Steal home and cry herself to sleep.
And he rides hard to dull the pain
Who rides from one that loves him best...
And he rides slowly back again,
Whose restless heart must rove for rest.

Unfortunately, Mooney's rendition is not available on the Net. However, Garnet Rogers recorded a version on his 'Speaking Softly in the Dark' album. He is faithful to Lawson's text for the first few stanzas but reshuffles and rewrites the latter part of the poem. You can listen to it on Bandcamp here:

Rogers

There's a trio of renditions available on Youtube, including one by a choir, but none of them sparks my clod.

Youtube clips

--Stewie.

Subject: Lyr Add: AFTER ALL (Henry Lawson)
From: Stewie
Date: 21 Aug 20 - 08:59 PM

It is somewhat disappointing that it was up to a Canadian - Garnet Rogers - to put a tune to one of Lawson's finest poems:

AFTER ALL
(Henry Lawson)
   
The brooding ghosts of Australian night have gone from the bush and town;
My spirit revives in the morning breeze, though it died when the sun went down;
The river is high and the stream is strong, and the grass is green and tall,
And I fain would think that this world of ours is a good world after all.

The light of passion in dreamy eyes, and a page of truth well read,
The glorious thrill in a heart grown cold of the spirit I thought was dead,
A song that goes to a comrade's heart, and a tear of pride let fall --
And my soul is strong! and the world to me is a grand world after all!

Let our enemies go by their old dull tracks, and theirs be the fault or shame
(The man is bitter against the world who has only himself to blame);
Let the darkest side of the past be dark, and only the good recall;
For I must believe that the world, my dear, is a kind world after all.

It well may be that I saw too plain, and it may be I was blind;
But I'll keep my face to the dawning light, though the devil may stand behind!
Though the devil may stand behind my back, I'll not see his shadow fall,
But read the signs in the morning stars of a good world after all.

Rest, for your eyes are weary, girl -- you have driven the worst away --
The ghost of the man that I might have been is gone from my heart today;
We'll live for life and the best it brings till our twilight shadows fall;
My heart grows brave, and the world, my girl, is a good world after all.

Rogers makes some very minor changes to the Lawson text:

Youtube clip

--Stewie.

Subject: Lyr Add: THE ANSWER'S IRELAND (John Dengate)
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 21 Aug 20 - 08:30 PM

http://ozfolksongaday.blogspot.com/2011/03/answers-ireland.html

The Answer's Ireland (Tune Rody McCorley)

originally published in Singabout 6(1), 1966, p.4

Who gave Australia the tunes to sing, the tunes of songs so grand?
Songs to inspire, full of beauty and fire – the answer's Ireland.
Know when you sing of Jack Donahue, that he was a Dublin man
And Dennis O'Reilly is travelling still with a blackthorn in his hand.

Who raised a ruckus at Castle Hill, who there defied the crown?
'Twas the same rebel boys who in '98 'gainst odds would not lie down.
Oh, but they made Samuel Marsden fret and ruffled silver tails,
Why, the words "Croppy Pike" were enough to strike fear into New South Wales.

Who agitated at Ballarat for Joe Latrobe's death knell?
Who was it raised up the five-starred flag and damned the traps to hell?
Who was it gathered beneath that flag, where solemn oaths were sworn?
Who would not run from the redcoats' guns, upon Eureka morn?

Ned Kelly's dad was an Irish lad, the Kellys all died game.
Brave Michael Dwyer's bones are buried here, we'll not forget that name.
Who could resist Larry Foley's fist, and Foley wore the green.
Who led the anti-conscription ranks in 1917?

Subject: Lyr Add: TIME IS A TEMPEST (Broomhall, Thompson)
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 21 Aug 20 - 08:22 PM

TIME IS A TEMPEST
John Broomhall / John Thompson
As sung by Cloudstreet on "Dance up the Sun" (2008)

Time is a tempest and we are all travellers.
We are all travellers; we are all travellers.
Time is a tempest and we are all travellers,
Travelling through the storm.

Our cities are crowded; our forests are falling,
War clouds above, angry voices are calling.
Five minutes to midnight is no time for stalling.
It's time to share our load.

So lift up your voices and sing of the wind and rain.
Sing of the wind and rain; sing of the wind and rain.
Lift up your voices and sing of the wind and rain,
Travelling through the storm.

For time is a tempest and we are all travellers.
We are all travellers; we are all travellers.
Time is a tempest and we are all travellers,
Travelling through the storm.

They've poisoned the oceans; they've dammed the great rivers.
They've killed all the jungles; they're takers, not givers.
They call it progress; well, it gives me the shivers.
We're in for a winter that's cold.

So lift up your voices and sing of the wind and rain.
Sing of the wind and rain; sing of the wind and rain.
Lift up your voices and sing of the wind and rain,
Travelling through the storm.

For time is a tempest and we are all travellers.
We are all travellers; we are all travellers.
Time is a tempest and we are all travellers,
Travelling through the storm.

So brothers and sisters, we'll join hands together.
With love in our struggle, we'll face the foul weather.
And when the sun shines through, under blue skies we'll gather.
Our journey will take us home.

So lift up your voices and sing of the wind and rain.
Sing of the wind and rain; sing of the wind and rain.
Lift up your voices and sing of the wind and rain,
Travelling through the storm.

For time is a tempest and we are all travellers.
We are all travellers; we are all travellers.
Time is a tempest and we are all travellers,
Travelling through the storm.

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 21 Aug 20 - 07:56 AM

very famous songs in copyright

Redgum - I was only 19 lyrics I was only 19 video

Paul Kelly & Kev Carmody - From little things big things grow In this video Kev Carmody and Paul Kelly talk about the process of writing the song. From Little Things Big Things Grow tells the story of Vincent Lingiari, a Gurindji stockman who, in 1966, initiated a strike in response to the poor working conditions faced by Gurindji workers, on the Wave Hill Cattle Station.

Subject: Lyr Add: WATCHERS OF THE WATER (Paul Hemphill)
From: Stewie
Date: 20 Aug 20 - 09:19 PM

Gallipoli is a striking example of place identity. Bob Hawke fancied that Anzac Cove is ‘a little piece of Australia’ and John Howard postulated that the Gallipoli peninsula is ‘as much a part of Australia as the land on which your home is built’. We have been told for decades that Australian soldiers sacrificed their lives there for our freedoms. If anything, the notion of ‘sacrificing for freedoms’ is truer for the Turks. The Turks were defending their land from invasion at a cost of over 50 000 dead – the Anzac count was 10 000. For Turks, every piece of soil at Gallipoli is sacred.

Historians, Mark McKenna and Stuart Ward, wrote in their essay ‘An Anzac Myth: The Creative Memorialisation of Gallipoli’:

'Turkey and Australia have rushed to memorialise a romantic image of Gallipoli – one of co-operation and friendship. As admirable as these intentions might be, they are based on falsehoods and the misrepresentation of war. Far better a friendship that has the courage to confront war’s brutality and the senseless loss of life that occurred in 1915'

WATCHERS OF THE WATER
(Paul Hemphill)

It is the night of April 25th, 1915. The Turkish soldiers are waiting for the ANZAC assault on Gallipoli to begin …

The sun's fiery furnace beat down upon our backs
As we fixed our sharpened bayonets and shouldered heavy packs
We marched in ordered files to destiny that day
In a land God had forgotten, due east of Suvla Bay

And in the hills so rough and rugged, we hauled our guns by hand
Raised the shells upon our shoulders to the heights we must command
We watched and prayed and waited, each heart beating like a drum
We all had our eyes on the seaward horizon to west where they would come

And the cold moon she rose on the watchers of the water
The stars hung brightly high above the trees
And in the warm night-tide, sheep came to the slaughter
From their land so far away across the seas

And when night fell, oh, she fell so soft and silent
We could have been in the Garden of Paradise
And no man raised his voice, not a soul made a noise
Though our blood ran as cold, as cold as ice

And the cold moon she shone on the watchers of the water
The stars hung brightly high above the trees
And in the warm night-tide, sheep came to the slaughter
From their land so far away across the seas

The cold moonlight upon the water glistened
And enwrapped in all of our hopes and fears
As through the long night-tide, oh, we watched and listened
With sharpened eyes and very, very frightened ears

And we saw small boats come sailing from great ships far out to sea
Shells came at us wailing in infernal symphony

And with fists of fire and steel, we were hammered hard that night
And many brave men went to God without the chance to fight
And as the boats drew nearer, oh, we watched with bated breath
We waited for the order and our turn to deal out death

And the cold moon looked down on the watchers of the water
The stars hung brightly high above the trees
And in the warm night-tide, sheep came to the slaughter
From their land so far away across the seas
From their land so far away across

Youtube clip

--Stewie.

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Stewie
Date: 20 Aug 20 - 09:01 PM

My apologies. The Guest above for 'And when they dance' was me. I forgot to log in or to sign the post.

Henryp referred to Gerry Hallom and 'Outside Track'. Here is a link to Gerry singing it:

Youtube clip

--Stewie.

Subject: Lyr Add: AND WHEN THEY DANCE (Roy Abbott)
From: GUEST
Date: 20 Aug 20 - 08:48 PM

Here's a good'un from Roy Abbott, a West Australian singer-songwriter. It was first recorded by Mucky Duck Bush Band.

AND WHEN THEY DANCE
(Roy Abbott)

I play in a band, I’ve played all around,
From Perth in the west to old Melbourne Town,
But one thing delights me each time I look down
It’s the lasses who dance ‘til the morning.

Chorus:
And when they dance their dresses spin round,
They travel so light that they scarce touch the ground
And the smiles on their faces would win any crowd
The lasses who dance ‘til the morning.

I’ve played for the gentry I’ve played for them all,
From the old bush hut to the debutante’s ball,
But one thing unites them the great and the small
It’s the lasses who dance ‘til the morning.

And when the dance ends and they all leave the floor
Their legs are so weary tired and sore
But who are the ones that keep yellin’ for more?
It’s the lasses who dance till the morning.

So, long may I travel and far may I roam
Around this big country we call our home
Playing for people that I’ll never know
And the lasses who dance till the morning.

Danny Spooner recorded it on his 'Emerging Tradition' album, but here is a live version:

Youtube clip

Subject: Lyr Add: THE OUTSIDE TRACK (Henry Lawson)
From: GUEST,henryp
Date: 20 Aug 20 - 11:46 AM

Gerry Hallom sang The Outside Track to his own tune in 1984 on his Fellside album A Run a Minute. He noted:

Another Lawson poem which fits conveniently into song. To me it captures the sadness and emptiness when parting company from friends when futures are uncertain. The traveller at least has his adventures before him to soften the parting, but those on the quayside have only the loss.

There were ten of us there on the moonlit quay,
And one on the for’ard hatch;
No straighter mate to his mates than he
Had ever said: “Len’s a match!”
“’Twill be long, old man, ere our glasses clink,
’Twill be long ere we grip your hand!”—
And we dragged him ashore for a final drink
Till the whole wide world seemed grand.

For they marry and go as the world rolls back,
They marry and vanish and die;
But their spirit shall live on the Outside Track
As long as the years go by.

The port-lights glowed in the morning mist
That rolled from the waters green;
And over the railing we grasped his fist
As the dark tide came between.
We cheered the captain and cheered the crew,
And our mate, times out of mind;
We cheered the land he was going to
And the land he had left behind.

We roared Lang Syne as a last farewell,
But my heart seemed out of joint;
I well remember the hush that fell
When the steamer had passed the point
We drifted home through the public bars,
We were ten times less by one
Who sailed out under the morning stars,
And under the rising sun.

And one by one, and two by two,
They have sailed from the wharf since then;
I have said good-bye to the last I knew,
The last of the careless men.
And I can’t but think that the times we had
Were the best times after all,
As I turn aside with a lonely glass
And drink to the bar-room wall.

But I’ll try my luck for a cheque Out Back,
Then a last good-bye to the bush;
For my heart’s away on the Outside Track,
On the track of the steerage push.

Thanks to Mainly Norfolk

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 20 Aug 20 - 11:04 AM

I've just made a quick list of traditional songs, collected & re-popularised in the revival of the 50s/60s.

They were all published by the Bush Music Club in Singabout (1956-67)

Maggie May

Nine Miles from Gundagai

The Neumerella Shore - 1 2 pages The Neumerella Shore - 2

The Wild Colonial Boy

The Black Velvet Band & The Old Bark Hut also in Singabout 5(1) 1963

The Drover's Dream & Wild Rover both also in Singabout 3(1) 1958

Old Black Billy (written in 1938 but thought to be trad. when it was collected)

and a couple of other classics which strangely enough were not published in Singabout! - Moreton Bay & Reedy River lyrics & video of Chris Kempster singing

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Stewie
Date: 20 Aug 20 - 11:02 AM

West Australian group, Loaded Dog, give their authentic version of Australia's best-known song. I reckon they are the best bush band in Oz. Alan Mann is telling the story and Bob Rummery is lead vocalist and box player.

Waltzing Matilda

--Stewie.

Subject: Lyr Add: WHEN THE BRUMBIES COME TO WATER (Ogilvie)
From: Stewie
Date: 20 Aug 20 - 10:45 AM

Will Ogilvie, a Scotsman, wrote some fine bush ballads during his years as a jackaroo in Australia. One of his best was 'When the brumbies come to water' which circulated in oral tradition, changed, shortened and turned into a song. This version was collected by Ron Edwards.

WHEN THE BRUMBIES COME TO WATER

There's a lonely grave half hidden where the blue-grass droops above,
A slab that roughly marks it: we planted it with love
There's a mourning rank of riders closing in on every hand
O'er the vacant place he left us: he was best of all the band
Now he's lying cold and silent with his hidden hopes unwon
Where the brumbies come to water at the setting of the sun

There's a well-worn saddle hanging in the harness-room above
A good old stock horse waiting for the steps that never come
And his dog will lick some other hand when the wild mob swings
We'll get a slower rider to replace him on the wing
Ah but who will kiss his wife who kneels beside the long lagoon
Where the brumbies come to water at the rising of the moon

We will miss him in the cattle camps a trusted man and true
The daddy of all stockmen was young Rory Donahue
We will miss the tunes he used to play on his banjo long and low
We will miss the songs he used to sing of the days of long ago
Where the shadow-line lies broken 'neath the moonbeams' silver bars
Where the brumbies come to water at the twinkling of the stars

Youtube clip

--Stewie.

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: rich-joy
Date: 20 Aug 20 - 10:20 AM

Thanks Stew. I'll have to see what I can "carefully resurrect" from my old tapes!! Wonder if Tone has copies??
R-J

Subject: Lyr Add: JOHNNY STEWART DROVER (Chris Buch)
From: Stewie
Date: 20 Aug 20 - 10:17 AM

The late Chris Buch was a good friend of mine. He used to run the Mt Isa Folk Club which for a time was one of the clubs that organised the Top Half Folk Festival. Back when the world was young, Chris was commissioned by the Australian Folk Trust to go on a cattle drive and collect songs from the drovers. He went on the drive but was unable to collect any songs. Chris told me that the drovers were too buggered at night to sing around a campfire - all they did was consume soup, snore and fart in their sleeping bags. Bereft of any collected songs, Chris decided to write one himself. He based it on a drover from Camooweal who occasionally attended the Mt Isa folk club. It is a fine song indeed. The story goes that the song came over the radio in the Camooweal servo/cafe. One of the patrons yelled out to Johnny who happened to be there: 'Hey Johnny, there's some pommie bastard singing about you on the radio.

JOHNNY STEWART DROVER
(Chris Buch)

The mob is dipped, the drive is started out
They're leaving Rockland's dusty sheds behind them
The whips are cracking and the drovers shout
Along the Queensland stock-roads you will find them

Droving ways have been like this for years
No modern ways have meant their days are over
The diesel road trains cannot know the steers
Or walk them down like Johnny Stewart, drover

CHORUS
On the banks of the Georgina and down the Diamantina
To where the grass is greener, down by New South Wales
Johnny Stewart's roving with mobs of cattle droving
His life story moving down miles of dusty trails

The cook is busy by the campfire light
Above a fire a billy gently swinging
The mob is settled quietly for the night
And Johnny's riding softly around and singing

Johnny doesn't spend much time in town
Impatient for the wet to be over
Most of the year he's walking cattle down
The stock roads are home for Johnny Stewart, drover

CHORUS

Dawn will surely find another day
Sun still chasing moon, never caught her
The morning light will find them on their way
Another push to reach the next good water

CHORUS

They're counted in now, Johnny's work is done
And fifteen hundred head are handed over
It's into town now for a little fun
And a beer or two for Johnny Stewart, drover

CHORUS

The song has gone around Australia and the world. Gordon Bok made a fine recording of it:

Youtube clip

Subject: Lyr Add: GENTLE ANNIE (Australian variant, Foster)
From: Stewie
Date: 20 Aug 20 - 09:40 AM

R-J, unfortunately I do not have any recordings of Smokey. I recall he also did a belter rendition of 'Death of Ben Hall'. He had an excellent voice for Oz bush ballads - his German accent would
disappear when he sang.

Ah, Sandra, the turret days were wonderful. We had hundreds attend of a Sunday night. Many heard about us on the hippy routes to the north.

Here is an Australian version of Stephen Foster's 'Gentle Annie'. There are several variants, but the text of an unusual one was given to Danny Spooner by Dave Lumsden who said his family tradition had that it was written for his grandmother's sister, but that he believed it was probably written for a friend. The words were by Jack Cousens who was an itinerant worker around the Murray River in the 1890s. Cousens spent much of his time with the travelling steam-driven threshing machines that travelled from town to town.

GENTLE ANNIE

Now the harvest time is come, Gentle Annie
And the wild oats they are scattered o'er the field
And you'll be anxious to know, Gentle Annie
How your little crop of oats is going to yield

And we're travelling down the road into Barna
And we're following the feeder, Billy Yates
When we arrive and we see the donah
She's the little girl we left at Tommy Waits'

So we must meet again Gentle Annie
As each year we're travelling round your door
And we never will forget you, Gentle Annie
You're the little dark-eyed girl we do adore

Well, your mutton's very sweet, Gentle Annie
And your wines they can't be beat in New South Wales
But you'd better get a fence round your cabbage
Or they'll all be eaten up by the snails

And you'll take my advice, Gentle Annie,
And you're bound to watch old Chaffie going away
With a pack bag hung over his saddle
For he stole some knives and forks the other day

Yes, we must meet again Gentle Annie
Each year as we're travelling round your door
And we never can forget you, Gentle Annie
You're the little dark-eyed girl we all adore

Well, your little bed of oats is fresh, Gentle Annie
And the bullocks they are yoked to go away
You'll be sorry when we're gone, Gentle Annie
For you'll want us then to stop and thresh the hay

But we must say farewell, Gentle Annie,
For you know with you we cannot longer stay
But we hope one and all, Gentle Annie,
To be with you on another threshing day

Here's a version by Martyn Wyndham-Read:

Youtube clip

--Stewie.

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: GUEST,Mysha
Date: 20 Aug 20 - 09:35 AM

Ah, thanks Sandra. I have a grasp of how Jan Abe Tassema named those islands, but have only a vague idea of how later natives reinvented the topography afterwards. (-:

So, back to the general topic. I see we do have a mention of Van Diemenslandt. Are there specific parts of New Holland that we are missing but that are worth mentioning songs for?

Bye
Mysha

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 20 Aug 20 - 08:21 AM

The Top End is the pointy bit! Northern Territory & the northern part of Queensland.

Darwin has a Top End Folk Club which used to meet in the Gun Turret I've never been there & now I can see why the Gun turret was such a great venue.


sandra

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: GUEST,Mysha
Date: 20 Aug 20 - 08:04 AM

Which end of Australia is its top?

Bye
Mysha

Subject: Lyr Add: MY DEAR DARWIN (Paul Lawler)
From: rich-joy
Date: 20 Aug 20 - 07:36 AM

The late Paul Lawler's observations of the changing face of tropical architecture in the Top End of the Northern Territory, after Cyclone Tracy (not necessarily for the better), are immortalised in his song "My Dear Darwin", popular with so many folkies who have visited or lived in Australia's Top End - it's very singable!


MY DEAR DARWIN       © Paul Lawler, 1983                  

Time was, when people in harmony
With nature understood,
That freedom for living things went without saying
And life’s simple pleasures were good.

Asymmetrical, practical, buildings of yesterday
Made from lattice and lace,
But louvres and shutters and the wide open spaces
Now have concrete blocks in their place.

Chorus        
My Dear Darwin
Oh what have they done to your face,
Since Tracy blew, your tropical hue
Has somehow fallen from grace.

Call it green season, then build without reason
These homes from latitudes far,
Creating hot boxes, visually obnoxious
On Darwin’s horizon, a scar.

Government platitudes, old-fashioned attitudes
Building suburbs of gloom,
Breezes are few, in your tropical igloo
You’ll never enjoy the monsoon.

Caravan window, breeze adagio
Air condition the room,
Depend when you’re hot, on one thousand watts
Sealed in a suburban tomb.

But make the correction and opt for convection
Let the nor-wester in from the sea,
Airing your dwelling and bonus that’s telling
The wind and the breezes are free.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bueF-1abr_s


Cheers, R-J

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Joe Offer
Date: 20 Aug 20 - 04:06 AM

Oh, this is fun. Thanks, Gerry. Anybody else ready to propose and manage a chapter?

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: rich-joy
Date: 20 Aug 20 - 03:56 AM

Stewie, do you perchance have an MP3 of Smokey's (et al) version of Lawson's "The Outside Track" (music by Gerry Hallom)???
I always thought his rendition was beautiful and needs to be known outside of The Top End.

Same with his singing of the "Northern Gulf" (was that with the early Tropical Ear perhaps?), using MacColl's "North Sea Holes" as a base.

I'd be happy to put them up on Paul's YT channel if you like.
Cheers, R-J

Subject: Lyr Add: BROKEN-DOWN SQUATTER (Charles Flower)
From: Stewie
Date: 19 Aug 20 - 11:35 PM

Below is my transcription of a Martyn Wyndham-Read rendition:

THE BROKEN-DOWN SQUATTER
(Charles Flower)

Come, Stumpy, old man, we must shift whilst we can,
Your mates in the paddock are dead
We must bid our farewell to Glen Even's fair dell
The place where your master was bred
Together we'll roam from our drought-stricken home
Seems hard that such things have to be,
And it's hard on the horse when he's nought for a boss
But a broken-down squatter like me

Chorus:
And the banks are all broken they say
And the merchants are all up a tree
When the bigwigs are brought to the bankruptcy court
What chance for a squatter like me?

No more we will muster the river for fats
Nor speed on the fifteen-mile plain
Nor rip through the scrub by the light of the moon
Nor see the old homestead again
Leave the slip-panels down, they don't matter much now,
There's none but the crows left to see,
Perching gaunt on a pine, as though longing to dine
On a broken-down squatter like me.

Chorus

When the country was cursed with the drought at its worst
The cattle were dying in scores
Though down on me luck, I kept up me pluck
Thinking justice might soften the laws
But the farce had been played, and the government aid
Ain't extended to squatters, old son;
When me money was spent, they doubled the rent
And resumed the best part of the run

Chorus

'Twas done without reason, for leaving the season
No squatter could stand such a rub
And it's useless to squat when the rents are so hot
That you can't save the price of your grub
And there's not much to choose 'tween the banks and the screws
When a fellow gets put up a tree
There's no odds how I feel, there's no court of appeal
For a broken-down squatter like me

Chorus

Youtube clip

--Stewie.

Subject: Lyr Add: SAILOR HOME FROM THE SEA (Dorothy Hewett)
From: Stewie
Date: 19 Aug 20 - 10:48 PM

My apologies, the transcription that I posted above of 'Sailor home from the sea' needs severe correction. I copied and pasted it from a Mudcat thread. Martyn's version varies a little from Hewett's original, but this is what he sings:

SAILOR HOME FROM THE SEA

Oh cock of the morning with a dream in his hand,
My love has come home to this beautiful land
He bursts through the door with his eyes like the sun
And his kit bag crammed full with the treasures he's won

A coral from Broome and a tall Darwin tale,
A pearl and a clam and the jaws of a whale,
My kitchen is full with the smell of the sea
And the leaping green fishes my love brings to me

Oh tumble your treasures from Darwin and Broome,
And fill with your glory this straight little room
With the sun of the morning ablaze on his chest
My love has come home from the north of northwest

And deep in our bed, we'll lie and we'll be
We'll kiss and we'll listen to the rain on the sea
Warm as the summer, we've lived winter long
My love has come home like King Solomon's song

Poem

--Stewie.

Subject: Lyr Add: BARE LEGGED KATE (John Dengate)
From: Stewie
Date: 19 Aug 20 - 10:16 PM

BARE LEGGED KATE
Words: John Dengate:
"Written for my mother, Born Kathleen Mary Kelly, Gundagai, NSW, 1914."         

Tune: Bare-legged Joe

First Verse and Chorus:

Bare-legged Kate with your natural grace,
The big, big sad eyes in the Irish face.
A poor bush girl when the summer is high
In the stony hills of Gundagai.

Bare-legged Kate why do you weep
When the men ride by with the travelling sheep?
Does the sight of the drover make you sad?
Do you think of the father you never had?

CHORUS:

Bare-legged Kate why do you run,
Down to the creek in the setting sun?
Down where the eyes of the world cannot see -
Run Kate, run, from poverty.

CHORUS:

Bare-legged Kate, there is gold in the hills
But you know that the cyanide process kills.
Poisons the miners and cuts them down
In the mean little homes below the town.

Bare-legged Kate, when the floods come down,
It's the poor on the creeks are the ones who drown:
When the great Murrumbidgee is thundering by
Through the haunted hills of Gundagai.

The above is a transcription by Bob Bolton.

Youtube clip

--Stewie.

Subject: Lyr Add: WEEVILS IN THE FLOUR / WHERE I GREW TO...
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 19 Aug 20 - 10:11 PM

Dorothy Hewett's Weevils in the flour

http://unionsong.com/u140.html - lyrics "Weevils in the flour" + original poem "Where I grew to be a man"

    On an island in a river
    How that bitter river ran
    I grew on scraps of charity
    In the best way that you can
    On an island in a river
    Where I grew to be a man.

    Chorus
    For dole bread is bitter bread
    Bitter bread and sour
    There's grief in the taste of it
    There's weevils in the flour
    There's weevils in the flour

    And just across the river
    Stood the mighty B.H.P.,
    Poured pollution on the waters,
    Poured the lead of misery
    And its smoke was black as Hades
    Rolling hungry to the sea.

    In those humpies by the river
    Where we lived on dole and stew,
    While just across the river
    Those greedy smokestacks grew,
    And the hunger of the many
    Filled the bellies of the few.

    On an island in a river
    How that bitter river ran
    It broke the banks of charity
    And it baked the bread of man
    On an island in a river
    Where I grew to be a man.

    Last chorus:
    For dole bread is bitter bread
    There's a weevils in the flour
    But men grow strong as iron upon
    Black bread and sour,
    Black bread and sour.

    Notes

    Many thanks to Dorothy Hewett and Mike Leyden for permission to include this song in the Union Songs collection

    Weevils in the Flour was published in Australian Tradition, November 1965 and is sung here by Declan Affley, from the 1987 memorial LP 'Declan Affley'

    here is the original poem:

    Where I Grew To Be a Man

    On an island in a river,
    How that bitter river ran!
    I grew on scraps of charity
    In the best way that you can,
    On that island in the river
    Where I grew to be a man.

          For dole bread is bitter bread,
                  Black bread and sour,
          There's grief in the taste of it,
          There's weevils in the flour.

    And just across the river
    Stood the mighty B.H.P.,
    Poured pollution on the waters,
    Poured the lead of misery,
    And its smoke was black as Hades
    Rolling hungry to the sea.

    In those humpies by the river,
    We lived on dole and stew,
    And just across the river
    Those greedy smokestacks grew,
    And the hunger of the many
    Filled the bellies of the few.

    Oh! Winter on the river
    Was a time of bitter cold,
    A time of hungry bellies
    And children growing old,
    And men with nothing else to do
    But watch the river roll.

          For dole bread is bitter bread,
                  Black bread and sour,
          There's grief in the taste of it,
          There's weevils in the flour.

    Oh! cats on the river,
    And men on the tide,
    They all became a commonplace
    On our river side,
    And even mothers couldn't weep
    When new-born babies died.

    Oh! black was the steel town,
    And black was the smoke,
    Cold-black the river water
    That can gag a man and choke,
    Till he dreams up a furnace fire
    Of his own to stoke.

    We met beside the river
    With the ghosts of good men drowned,
    We picketed the steel mill
    And we banked our hunger down
    With words that stung and deeds that hung
    Like live things on the town.

          For dole bread is bitter bread,
          There's weevils in the flour,
          There's rage in the taste of it.
                  Black bread and sour!

    On an island in a river,
    How that bitter river ran!
    It broke the banks of charity,
    It baked the bread of man,
    On that island in the river
    Where I grew to be a man.

          For dole bread is bitter bread,
          There's weevils in the flour,
          But men grow strong as iron upon
                  Black bread and sour!

Subject: Lyr Add: SAILOR HOME FROM THE SEA (Dorothy Hewett)
From: Stewie
Date: 19 Aug 20 - 10:00 PM

Dorothy Hewett's poem 'Sailor home from the sea'. In Darwin, we always called it 'Cock of the north'. It has been put to several tunes, but the one used in the NT was by Martyn Wyndham-Read.

SAILOR HOME FROM THE SEA

Oh cock of the morning with a dream in your hand,
My love has come home, come ashore to the land
As he walks through the door with his eyes like the sun
And his kit bags crammed full of the treasures he's won.

There's a pearl shell from Broome and a tall Darwin tale,
Coral and clam and the jaws of a whale,
And our kitchen is full of the smell of the sea
And the leaping green fishes my love brings to me.

Oh tumble your treasures from Darwin and Broome,
And fill with your glory my straight little room
With the sun in the morning ablaze on your chest,
My love has come home from the north of northwest.

4. And deep in these beds we will love and we'll lie,
We'll kiss and we'll listen to the rain in the sky,
Warm as the summer, we'll hive winter long,
My love has come home like King Solomon's song.

A recent video by Martyn:

Cock of the north

--Stewie.

Subject: RE: Rise Up Mudcat Songbook - Australia
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 19 Aug 20 - 09:59 PM

Phyl Lobl has written so many great songs.
lyrics


Antiwar songs In 1968, Phyl released her own E.P. (remember them?!) titled "Dark Eyed Daughter". It was a significant political statement by an Australian folk singer as it was dedicated to the political issue of Aboriginal Rights at a time when Australia's Aboriginal people were disenfranchised. Phyl recorded two of her own songs for the EP, the title song "Dark Eyed Daughter" and "Will You Fight, Will You Dare?" As well, Phyl recorded the song "Whose Hand" written by Ian Hills and Kath Walker's poem "No More Boomerang" to which she and her friend, later to be her husband, Geri Lobl had composed a tune and arrangement.