Dick Gaughan - Ewan and The Gold
For there's some who use their dreams to tear themselves apart
And some who never find their dream at all
But how many find the courage to look deepest in their heart
And find a dream they can follow till they fall
Moving from Irish to Scottish folk, Ewan and the Gold was written by Brian McNeill, I've included here the Dick Gaughan version, though in fact, tying this to the last song of the previous post, it was the Mick Thomas version on The Horses Prayer which I first heard and became enchanted by.
I've only seen Mick Thomas play the song once, and as an introduction he explained that having seen St Kilda lose to Adelaide in the 1997 AFL Grand Final and as a result wanting be as far away from Melbourne as possible he went to Scotland, only to be reminded of his recent sporting disappointment by the presence of St Kilda, an archipelago containing the western most islands of the Outer Hebrides, after which the (now) suburb in Melbourne was indirectly named (via the schooner Lady of St Kilda, itself named for the islands).
Unfortunately Mick's subsequent decision to embrace his despair and visit the islands was thwarted by the fact that St Kilda is now permanently inhabited only by military personnel, and your average punter can only go there during northern summers as a volunteer to conduct restorations to the historic buildings which get knocked down each winter by the atrocious weather. Not to be completely denied, Mick took up the cause of this song (written about Ewan Gillies, a St Kilda native who emigrated to Australia) a process which, Mick assured us, took almost as long as if he actually had had made it to the islands.
The history of the island though, inhabited for 2 millennia until 1930, is fascinating. You can read about it here and hear the song (with accompanying slide show) here.
Stan Rogers - Barrett's Privateers
Across the Atlantic to Canada, but connected to Ewan and the Gold by being another song Mick Thomas performs a mean cover of (in this case from the Weddings Parties Anything days), Barrett's Privateers was released by Stan Rogers on his 1976 album Fogarty's Cove, and despite being the style of a sea shanty regularly switches between common time and 5/4 time (I love a good change in time signature) which I learnt here.
I've got two Stan Rogers versions, of which I prefer the looser, louder, live offering, though to be honest neither matches the delicious raucousness of the opening track on WPA's legendary live recording They Were Better Live, and it's only my aversion to inter-compilation artist duplication which stops me getting out of bed for the for the Wedd's a capella effort, so to speak.
This video of Stan Rogers has about the right amount of belly-fire, in my opinion, plus some good beards, and an awesome Monty-Pythonesque facial expression at 1:09.
Simon & Garfunkel - So Long Frank Lloyd Wright
Other than the fact I'm not the first person to put this song and the previous together in a playlist I haven't found any compelling link between the two, but I'm not going to let that stop me including them in this order.
Popular interpretation of this song is that it's Paul Simon saying goodbye to Art Garfunkel as it comes from their last album together, with Garfunkel's intended (or perhaps even realised) study of architecture driving the elaborate nickname by which he is referred to here.
Now, I'm not sure if my tendency to live in the past or dwell on decisions long made is greater or lesser than your average man on the street, I'm pretty sure in general it's better to do less of that than more, but however much I'd like to minimise my 'what might have been' time, I get a an unavoidable bout of it whener I listen to this entry in the STGOOBF.
With a connection driven by my only (conscious) exposure to Frank Lloyd Wright's work, the resigned wistfulness of this song always makes me think what might have been, and the experiences I might have had, all the way from the fairways where the wind of freedom blows to a party in Fitzroy and back again. YMMV.
Counting Crows - Blues Run The Game
No, that's not an error, it is Counting Crows, it is folk, and I think I'll repeat here the text which accompanied this song (though the original, Jackson C. Frank version) the last time I put it on a compilation CD:
The Counting Crows covered this the first time I saw them play live, and it was one of those songs I just absolutely loved the first time I heard it. This guy had a very interesting life story, including a schoolyard fire, huge insurance payout, production of his only album by Paul Simon, and a long period of homelessness before being ‘rescued’ by a fan for the last few years of his life.
I don't often love songs the first time I hear them, but as mentioned above I sure did this one, and this remains my favourite version of the three I have, Counting Crows, the original, and, as he covered it as well as producing the album the original was from, Simon and Garfunkel.
The first time I saw Counting Crows play live (of two times I have) was on February 27, 2003 at the Enmore Theatre, and this track was clearly the highlight for me. The second time I saw Counting Crows was a week later at the Hordern Pavilion, and that night we met a couple of chicks who were students at Macquarie Uni, one of who became quite infatuated with the close friend I mention in this post, (as, it must be said, chicks are often wont to do) and over the course of the next few months he replied to every SMS he received from her with a Counting Crows lyric, which in most cases were eerily appropriate.
Ah Reidy, I miss you mate. (Not dead, he just caught a boat to England baby, maybe to Spain.)
Continuing the theme of not always linking to the version I chose in the STGOOBF, here is the original.




