Jon says “We had this as a bonus track from my brother a while back but I think it works pretty well unaccompanied so here it is again.”
I’ll agree that it suits a solo voice and it’s a winning little tune, which somewhat unaccountably seems to have spawned a number of parodies. As you’ll see from Mainly Norfolk, Les Barker added a nice twist and it’s interesting to see June Tabor thought his version worth her attention. Then I stumbled on this Mudcat thread, which added another couple of reworkings. I can only think that the prolific Bill Staines seems good humoured enough to take all such things in his stride as Mainly Norfolk indicates. I’ll also confess that despite what seems a substantial career his name is new to me and 26 albums make a late discovery a rather daunting (impossible) prospect, so I’m all the more grateful for this brief insight.
Jon recalls “This is always a favourite on FSC with its child friendly melody but with some quite adult sentiments! I’ve always thought Tom Waits would do a good version of it, and I’ve just discovered that he has (of sorts) as you’ll see on YouTube.”
A song Harry McClintock claimed to have written in 1895 (or 1898) based on his own misspent youth. Whilst that may be true, the song certainly has an older root as you’ll see if you Wiki here, with a broadside called An Invitation To Lubberland printed in 1685, some 200 years earlier, having much the same ideas of some mythical paradise flowing through it. You may also want to Wiki Harry here. But then this link is even more illuminating, showing that the song had a major clean up even before Burl Ives turned it into a children’s song. The original was very hard hitting with elements of male prostitution and predatory paedophiles and you’ll note in particular the details of a final verse that appeared in a court case, which tips the whole lot right over the edge. There’s also the Apple Knockers Lament, which Mudcat carries here as another possible feeder for the song. It makes you wonder quite why anyone think, “I know we’ll work this up and turn it into a kid’s sing-a-long favourite”!?! Sorry folks… I can almost hear the shattering of illusions and howls from here, but Crikey..! I suspect Tom Waits rather sinister take above is closer to the heart of this song than Burl Ives. As a final twist the Wiki entry for the song covers some of the same ground as above, but also the naming of the Big Rock Candy Mountains in America.
Jon accredits this as “From Barry Dransfield. The tune is very old but this is the best use of it I’ve come across.”
Mainly Norfolk seems to indicate that there are several different ‘nonsense’ chorus variants and this one seems to be Dransfield’s. I’m also intrigued by Bert’s notes about the age and origins of the story. Although I’m wary of accepting it as the actual root, it at least shows a common and widespread tale that crosses different cultures. You’ll note it’s in the Child collection as well and has several alternate title including The Cursed (or Curst) Wife. Mudcat away here as well as there’s plenty more information including a Rabbie Burns version. Is it just coincidence that along with yesterdays, there was a whistling part to this? OK! So, the one yesterday is a modern addition by the Highwaymen and today’s is a much older part based on the idea that whistling summoned the Devil, but spooky none the less. As for the tune – William Of Orange’s marching tune? Flutes, whistles? OOooer!
Jon reveals “I’ve only ever heard this sung on forest School Camps but I dare say it was sung a lot in the sixties. I’m guessing it’s an American version. Interesting that the subtext here is ‘you might as well run off with a gypsy because he might be a lord in disguise’, unlike Seven Yellow Gypsies where the subtext is more ‘keep an eye on your wife or she may run off with the gypsies.’ ”
This has stirred some sort of ‘folk-memory’ for me and frustratingly I can’t place it – is it recent, or a throwback to my youth? There’s something about the conjunction of tune and the lines “He whistled and he sang ‘til the greenwoods rang and he won the heart of a lady.” The more I try to peer through the mental fog, the more remote the setting seems, apart from some vague idea of having learned it as a child! On first glance this and Seven Yellow Gypsies both seem to fall under the same Child Ballad #200 along with Gypsy Davy, Black Jack Davy and Gypsy Laddie. All have the Lady running away with a Gypsy or Gypsies and the Lord setting off in pursuit, but this is different in that it has a happy ending with the Gypsy really being a Lord in disguise. But… This is also known as The Whistling Gypsy and was copyrighted by a Leo Maguire from Dublin in around 1950. His claim seems opportunistic at best, as numerous versions with almost identical words, including the “Aaah-di-do” chorus, were already known and widely performed. Still, Wiki here and you’ll note that The Highwaymen had a Top 40 hit with it, which may explain my stirrings, although I also note The Seekers name on the list and my Radio 2/BBC TV upbringing might also put them in the frame. It seems Mr. Maguire’s song-grab may have paid off handsomely, although by Child’s estimations there are versions as far back as the late C17th and C18th that carry the same story. You may want to Wiki again for more here, but I’d caution that Nick Tosche’s attempts to link this to historical fact are probably as dubious as Leo Maguire’s claims. Anyway, as usual I digress and maybe it’s simply that memory dredged up from somewhere that has me really enjoying this, despite now knowing that the darker versions of the tale are far superior.
Jon has this one down as “Possibly the first folk song I ever ‘performed’ – in a campfire scene in a school play. Basically a version of Verdant Braes Of Skreen and as before learnt from Planxty.”
I’ll refer you straight back to May 4th and the other version of this. There are several variants with T For Thomas as another and even J For Johnny, although the P For Paddy variant became the popular version amongst some of the revival singers and is thus probably more widely performed today, although it isn’t necessarily the original. It was printed as a Broadside in the 1820s, and Cecil Sharp collected a version from a Gypsy singer in Gloucestershire. In some versions the words get a bit muddled, but this seems more to be about a total lack of spelling ability than anything else. I’ll give you the Mainly Norfolk link that it shares with Verdant Braes… Aside from that there’s little I can add, except that I’m wiser about the whole ‘birds nest’ business!!!
