Like a lot of working musicians, the current global pandemic has cost me pretty much all of my paying gigs (which is fine, as much as I like singing about dead people, keeping as many of you all healthy as possible is a lot more important than me playing shows).
I'm fortunate in that I have a part-time "day job" income, so unlike a lot of my colleagues in the music business, I'll still be able to eat and sleep indoors and all that. It'll be a bit tight for a bit, but we folk-singer types are a hardy bunch and have been historically hard to stamp out.
But I like making music, exploring both traditional stuff and creating new original music, so I'm directing my energy to recorded projects, one of which will be taking some of the content on this blog and turning it into short video essays. I'm also putting some original harp and mandolin compositions online as well, and I'm hosting it all on my Patreon page.
I'm going to start out very simple, talk about the history of the song for a few minutes, then perform a version of it. The videos, which I will probably try to make one or two of a month will be available free to view on Youtube, but Patreon supporters will also get a downloadable audio version of each episode's song for their own enjoyment.
You can see the first video here.
The way I've set up my page is to ask supporters for money only when I post an original composition. So if you subscribe at the $1 level, each time I post an original, you'll give me a buck. When I post traditional folk content, you won't be charged, but you'll still get exclusive access to recorded content.
I plan to try and post two or three originals a month, along with at least one of these video essays. We'll see how it works and how successful it is, but I'm hoping it will both help push me to write more and provide a small revenue stream that I can invest in better recording and video equipment, to give you better production values (my pie-in-the-sky dream for all this is to be able to hire someone who actually knows more about making video than "sit in front of a smartphone and press play" to help with the editing).
Things are weird right now, that's for sure, but I really appreciate all my friends who have given me support over the years, whether financial or moral (or occasionally immoral. You know who you are!).
Whether it's here online, out in coffee shops or just on my own back porch, I'm going to keep singing.
-Matt
Sunday, May 3, 2020
Saturday, December 29, 2018
Touring the Megopolis!
I'll be heading out to the East Coast next week with a guitar, a mandolin and a box of CDs*, if you want to hear some of these songs live, and don't live in Wisconsin, this is your chance!
I've created a Facebook page with a list of all the tour stops, and I'll be doing a bit of recording and a lot of visiting friends and family in between. I hope to see you there!
*I will also be packing clean socks and underwear, but no Oxford commas because space is tight.
I've created a Facebook page with a list of all the tour stops, and I'll be doing a bit of recording and a lot of visiting friends and family in between. I hope to see you there!
*I will also be packing clean socks and underwear, but no Oxford commas because space is tight.
Monday, November 26, 2018
The Cruel Sister Revisited: Extra Nerdy String Instrument Edition
I've written before about variations on everybody's favorite sororicide ballad "The Cruel Sister" (aka "Binnorie," "The Bonny Swans," "The Dreadful Wind and Rain" etc, Roud 8, Child 10).
To sum up the basic story again, if you didn't know: There are two sisters who live in a remote castle by the North Sea. A knight comes courting and favors the younger one, so the jealous older one kills her sister and marries the knight. Some minstrels find the body and make a musical instrument out of it, which then magically reveals the murder.
It's a pretty fun, gruesome story, and a decent bit of music.
Now, when I last wrote about it, I found myself wondering what a harp made out of a dead body would sound like. I wasn't the only one to wonder, and a Finnish luthier named Yrjänä Ermala Soitinrakentaja actually made one to try it out (he didn't use a dead noblewoman, but a deer carcass and hair from a wig). Turns out, it's not the most sonorous instrument ever.
But as I was working on polishing up my own version of the song something occured to me: the lyrics of this particular version describe the "harp" as having three strings, and being played with a bow. Now, I've played the harp for a while and while there's no reason you couldn't build one with only three strings, you wouldn't be able to play many tunes on it. You COULD sound a droning chord on it to accompany singing, in the style of a classical lyre. So that's one possibility, it could have been a single-chord instrument to accompany singing.
Speaking of lyres, we probably shouldn't necessarily think of this harp as the familiar triangle-frame instrument like the contemporary folk harp I play in the video. While these style instruments certainly did exist when the song likely emerged, there was also a tendency - and still is - to refer to a whole range of plucked string instruments as harps. In modern nomenclature, a harp is an instrument where the strings come out and away from the soundboard, while a lyre is an instrument where the strings run across the soundboard, but in older sources things like Anglo-Saxon lyres were sometimes referred to as "harps." It's very possible that this is what the song refers to.
Another possibility, and one that would tie in nicely with some versions where the harp sings all on its own is that it was actually an Aeolian harp. This is an instrument that, rather than being played by a person, makes sound as the wind blows across the strings. My own harp is prone to this when played at outside events, where the wind can cause the strings to make strange moaning sounds. It's a very interesting and somewhat spooky sound, which would be in keeping with the mood of the song.
In other variations of the song, I could very much believe that the instrument in question was an Aeolian harp. I mean, wind is basically magic anyway, and if this thing made out of bones just started moaning away on its own, I bet someone with a guilty conscience would start to feel a bit haunted.
But in THIS version of the song, the minstrels use a bow to play the alleged harp. So what gives? Well, let's go on a bit of a linguistic diversion for a second. In Irish and Scottish Gaelic, the triangular harp is referred to as a "clairseach" or "clarsach" but there is mention of an older small harp referred to as a "cruit." There is a surviving string instrument by that name, though it's most often known by its Welsh name instead, the crwth. The crwth (pronounced like "krooth" if you're wondering), is shaped like a lyre, more or less, and traditionally had six strings, but tuned in unison, so three courses. it has a fretboard, allowing the player to press down on each string to get more than one note out of it, like a guitar or violin, and is played with a bow. It's not really a "harp" but a type of fiddle.
And looking at the shape of the crwth, one could see a vague resemblance to a rib cage, with the central neck being a kind of "breast bone," so with a little imagination one could picture using an actual sternum to make the fretboard of such an instrument. Actually, it's not uncommon for modern fretted instruments such as guitars or mandolins to have bone components, though usually not human bone as far as I know, so while an instrument entirely from bones would be quite unusual, an instrument with a bone inlay or bridge could pass unremarked until it began to work its magic.
So, to sum up, harp=cruit, cruit=crwth, at least in this particular version of the song.
To sum up the basic story again, if you didn't know: There are two sisters who live in a remote castle by the North Sea. A knight comes courting and favors the younger one, so the jealous older one kills her sister and marries the knight. Some minstrels find the body and make a musical instrument out of it, which then magically reveals the murder.
It's a pretty fun, gruesome story, and a decent bit of music.
Now, when I last wrote about it, I found myself wondering what a harp made out of a dead body would sound like. I wasn't the only one to wonder, and a Finnish luthier named Yrjänä Ermala Soitinrakentaja actually made one to try it out (he didn't use a dead noblewoman, but a deer carcass and hair from a wig). Turns out, it's not the most sonorous instrument ever.
But as I was working on polishing up my own version of the song something occured to me: the lyrics of this particular version describe the "harp" as having three strings, and being played with a bow. Now, I've played the harp for a while and while there's no reason you couldn't build one with only three strings, you wouldn't be able to play many tunes on it. You COULD sound a droning chord on it to accompany singing, in the style of a classical lyre. So that's one possibility, it could have been a single-chord instrument to accompany singing.
Speaking of lyres, we probably shouldn't necessarily think of this harp as the familiar triangle-frame instrument like the contemporary folk harp I play in the video. While these style instruments certainly did exist when the song likely emerged, there was also a tendency - and still is - to refer to a whole range of plucked string instruments as harps. In modern nomenclature, a harp is an instrument where the strings come out and away from the soundboard, while a lyre is an instrument where the strings run across the soundboard, but in older sources things like Anglo-Saxon lyres were sometimes referred to as "harps." It's very possible that this is what the song refers to.
Another possibility, and one that would tie in nicely with some versions where the harp sings all on its own is that it was actually an Aeolian harp. This is an instrument that, rather than being played by a person, makes sound as the wind blows across the strings. My own harp is prone to this when played at outside events, where the wind can cause the strings to make strange moaning sounds. It's a very interesting and somewhat spooky sound, which would be in keeping with the mood of the song.
In other variations of the song, I could very much believe that the instrument in question was an Aeolian harp. I mean, wind is basically magic anyway, and if this thing made out of bones just started moaning away on its own, I bet someone with a guilty conscience would start to feel a bit haunted.
But in THIS version of the song, the minstrels use a bow to play the alleged harp. So what gives? Well, let's go on a bit of a linguistic diversion for a second. In Irish and Scottish Gaelic, the triangular harp is referred to as a "clairseach" or "clarsach" but there is mention of an older small harp referred to as a "cruit." There is a surviving string instrument by that name, though it's most often known by its Welsh name instead, the crwth. The crwth (pronounced like "krooth" if you're wondering), is shaped like a lyre, more or less, and traditionally had six strings, but tuned in unison, so three courses. it has a fretboard, allowing the player to press down on each string to get more than one note out of it, like a guitar or violin, and is played with a bow. It's not really a "harp" but a type of fiddle.
And looking at the shape of the crwth, one could see a vague resemblance to a rib cage, with the central neck being a kind of "breast bone," so with a little imagination one could picture using an actual sternum to make the fretboard of such an instrument. Actually, it's not uncommon for modern fretted instruments such as guitars or mandolins to have bone components, though usually not human bone as far as I know, so while an instrument entirely from bones would be quite unusual, an instrument with a bone inlay or bridge could pass unremarked until it began to work its magic.
So, to sum up, harp=cruit, cruit=crwth, at least in this particular version of the song.
Dead Lovers online
The album is up and available for purchase on CDBaby through the link here. It should also begin appearing on streaming services such as Pandora and Spotify soon.
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
Saturday, November 17, 2018
It's About Time!
It's about time! At least, that's what I'm telling myself this week. Tomorrow I'll be celebrating the official release of "Dead Lovers" on CD, with a show/party locally at Bos Meadery here in Madison.
I'm getting the digital version up and available, and it should be ready through various online sources... well, however long it takes. I'll give you an update when that happens.
And I'm still working on booking a bit of an East Coast tour. Between January 5 and 18 or so.
In the mean time, if you do get a copy of the album, you can read the extended liner notes here. I hope to see you this weekend!
I'm getting the digital version up and available, and it should be ready through various online sources... well, however long it takes. I'll give you an update when that happens.
And I'm still working on booking a bit of an East Coast tour. Between January 5 and 18 or so.
In the mean time, if you do get a copy of the album, you can read the extended liner notes here. I hope to see you this weekend!
Monday, July 30, 2018
Album news, cover art and release date
The recording portion of the album is all finished! It's ten tracks, mostly just guitar and voice (with a little mandolin overdub here and there) recorded at Paradyme Productions, where I've done some session work in the past. Jake Johnson, the owner and engineer, is a great guy and I can't recommend them enough.
Now I'm working on packaging, liner notes and song order, which I expect to have done soon, and I'll be planning out the next big expensive part of the whole thing, which is getting copies made. I'm running a pre-sale to help with that, basically I've set up a GoFundMe and anyone who kicks in $10 or more will get a copy of the album.
In the mean time, my album release party is planned for November 18 at Bos Meadery, here in Madison.
I also have some cover art, drawn by my daughter Isabella. And yes, there's a werewolf.
Now I'm working on packaging, liner notes and song order, which I expect to have done soon, and I'll be planning out the next big expensive part of the whole thing, which is getting copies made. I'm running a pre-sale to help with that, basically I've set up a GoFundMe and anyone who kicks in $10 or more will get a copy of the album.
In the mean time, my album release party is planned for November 18 at Bos Meadery, here in Madison.
I also have some cover art, drawn by my daughter Isabella. And yes, there's a werewolf.
Monday, July 2, 2018
Caledonia to Carolina and Back: Black is the Color
Black is The Color (Roud 3103), is a pretty generic broken-heart type song. Person is in love with other person, person can't be with other person, person is sad. It's been interpreted many ways by many different artists and has been kicking around since at least the 1800 in various forms.
It's not even clear that the singer's beloved is actually dead, in the version I sing all that's clear is that he's not going to marry her. She may have rejected him, she may be already be married, she may be sailing away to another country or she may have been eaten by werewolves (as "DeBlass' Rule of Folk Music" states, when the death of a character in a song is unexplained, one can assume they were eaten by one or more werewolves).
More interestingly, however, is how this song illustrates how music travels and changes. In its original version, it likely came from the Lowlands of Scotland. The biggest clue to this is that it mentions going "to the Clyde." Now, I've said before, and it's still true that just because a song mentions a place, there's no reason to assume it's from there, but based on what we know it's a pretty good hypothesis.
From Scotland, it seems to have traveled to the Appalachian region of America (which had a large population of Lowland Scots and Scots-Irish settlers) where in the early 20th Century noted song collector and composer John Jacob Niles decided he didn't like the traditional melody, and wrote his own setting for it. From there it made its way into the popular repertoire, being reinterpreted by a number of Jazz singers including Nina Simone's excellent take.
It also became a staple, like so many of these songs, of the American folk revival, and seems to have made its way back into popularity in the Celtic folk repertoire again through this American influence. The version I learned came through Christy Moore, who in turn learned his from Scottish singer Hamish Imlach. Imlach, apparently having heard the song and, working from an imperfect memory, somewhat revised the melody and lyrics to create the version that he recorded in the 1960s and Moore has been performing ever since.
As for myself, I learned my own version from some guy named Noel in a youth hostel in Galway about 20 years ago. Noel was a big Christy Moore fan (as we should all be) and taught me a couple of simple songs while I spent a few months in Ireland living as a street musician. I've been singing it ever since as a regular part of my repertoire.
More interestingly, however, is how this song illustrates how music travels and changes. In its original version, it likely came from the Lowlands of Scotland. The biggest clue to this is that it mentions going "to the Clyde." Now, I've said before, and it's still true that just because a song mentions a place, there's no reason to assume it's from there, but based on what we know it's a pretty good hypothesis.
From Scotland, it seems to have traveled to the Appalachian region of America (which had a large population of Lowland Scots and Scots-Irish settlers) where in the early 20th Century noted song collector and composer John Jacob Niles decided he didn't like the traditional melody, and wrote his own setting for it. From there it made its way into the popular repertoire, being reinterpreted by a number of Jazz singers including Nina Simone's excellent take.
It also became a staple, like so many of these songs, of the American folk revival, and seems to have made its way back into popularity in the Celtic folk repertoire again through this American influence. The version I learned came through Christy Moore, who in turn learned his from Scottish singer Hamish Imlach. Imlach, apparently having heard the song and, working from an imperfect memory, somewhat revised the melody and lyrics to create the version that he recorded in the 1960s and Moore has been performing ever since.
As for myself, I learned my own version from some guy named Noel in a youth hostel in Galway about 20 years ago. Noel was a big Christy Moore fan (as we should all be) and taught me a couple of simple songs while I spent a few months in Ireland living as a street musician. I've been singing it ever since as a regular part of my repertoire.
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