LUKA BLOOM

head & heart

It feels like we’re a dying breed, those of us who love records. We love to record them. We love to buy them. This is how I wish to present my work, and how I wish to experience the work of other singers. Make a record. Buy a record.

Go away for awhile, be quiet, create, and make a record.

As ever, this began with a song.

After hearing Keith Jarret’s stunning instrumental version of ‘My Wild Irish Rose’, I decided to learn the song. A sentimental Irish American song from the 1890s, it was a surprise to me, how much I just loved singing it. Immediately. And of course, this began a process of challenging myself to find songs like this; and maybe even write a few.

I’ve always been a sucker for sad songs. Sad songs make me happy. So, over the next 18 months or so, I learned or wrote about 30 songs. During 2013, I knew this was leading to a record, but there was a problem. Because the songs were simply a joy for me to perform, I could have delivered a record in my sleep. Easy arrangements in a familiar setting … no risk, no danger. Something told me to be patient. Perhaps the songs (and me) needed something fresh, otherwise why bother? Some of these songs have been recorded many times; often brilliantly.

So, don’t bother, unless a fresh feeling for the songs can be found.

Then one day in late November I met my friend Paul G. Smyth outside Tower Records in Dublin. Paul is a great piano player. We got to talking about these songs I had, and the seed was sown for piano involvement in the project. I sent Paul the songs. He voiced his approval and interest, but with typical generosity and humility insisted I needed to work with the Phil Ware trio. Paul suggested I check out the trio’s version of ‘Nobody does it better’ on YouTube.

I did, and was hooked.

Immediately I contacted the lads.

This was new territory for me. I wanted to crete a landscape for the songs which would enhance them, but also somehow expose them in a very naked way.

So came about the mad idea to meet in the studio and instantly record with no rehearsal. Just feel the songs; play them, record them, release them. We met at 11.30am one Friday morning in the new year, and over the next two days recorded about ten songs. Six of the songs on the record come from these two days.

Phil Ware, Dave Redmond, Kevin Brady and myself met each other through these songs, playing live together. No headphones, no overdubs, listening to each other and creating space for each other, and most of all, trying to serve the song.

Of the other six songs on the record, five are solo, and the sixth?

We had decided ‘My Wild Irish Rose’ would be best with just piano, vocal and guitar.

A SHORT NOTE

ABOUT THIS

ALBUM

Booked the studio for another day. On the day, Phil was ill, and couldn’t come in, so Brian Masterson and myself were in the studio in Wicklow wondering what to do …Then in came Paul Wade, who had the task of tuning the piano for Phil. As he was tuning and playing away, I commented to Brian that the piano tuner was also a pretty tasty player.

‘Hey Paul ’, says I, ‘Have you ever been recorded?’ ‘Nope’, says Paul. ‘Would you like to be?’ says I. ‘OK ’, says Paul.

And so, the piano on ‘My wild Irish Rose’ is played by Paul Wade, who was in the building to tune the piano for Phil Ware. Well done Paul!

In making this record, I took a risk I’d never taken before, going to studio with three men I’d never even met, hoping for a meeting of hearts and minds and maybe a little magic. It was one of the most enjoyable experiences of my working life with songs. Thank you Phil, Dave and Kevin for bringing your gifts to the table and helping me find my way into these songs.

Thank you Fiachra and Carmel, and Ivan for making the recording so enjoyable too.

And most of all, thank you Brian Masterson for bringing all you bring, and being all you are. Brian and I started recording together in 1977. We’re beginning to get the hang of it.

Yep it feels like we are a dying breed; we who love to make and buy records. But it is what it is, and we are who we are.

I love records.

I hope you like this one.

HEAD & HEART

Luka Bloom

1_ HEAD AND HEART (john martyn; warlock music, 3.26)

2_ BANKS OF THE LEE (trad; arr luka bloom, 4.13)

3_ EVERY GRAIN OF SAND (bob dylan; special rider music, 4.14)

4_ THE FIRST TIME EVER I SAW YOUR FACE (ewan maccoll; bicycle music, 3.17)

5_ GIVE YOU WINGS (luka bloom; imro ireland / mcps / lukabloom music, 5.02)

6_ GENTLE ON MY MIND (john hartford; acuff-rose music, 3.57)

7_ MY WILD IRISH ROSE (chauncey olcott; arr luka bloom, 4.14)

8_ LONESOME ROBIN (bob coltman; collegium music, 4.12)

9_ AND I LOVE YOU SO (don mclean; songs of universal / benny bird co. inc, 4.13)

10_ LIFFEYSIDE (luka bloom; imro ireland / mcps / lukabloom music, 3.51)

11_ DANNY BOY (weatherly; arr luka bloom, 3.17)

12_ THE JOY OF LIVING (ewan maccoll; bicycle music, 4.16)

www.lukabloom.com

LUKA BLOOM vocals & guitars

PHIL WARE piano

DAVE REDMOND double bass

KEVIN BRADY drums

PAUL WADE piano (on my wild irish rose)

Band tracks recorded at Meadow, County Wicklow:

Engineer; IVAN JACKMAN,

Production Assistant; FIACHRA TRENCH

Solo tracks recorded by BRIAN MASTERSON

at Soundscape Studios, Dublin & Bloom Tunes, Co. Clare

All tracks mixed and mastered by BRIAN MASTERSON,

at Soundscape Studios

Produced by LUKA BLOOM

Cover painting by CHRISTIAN, Fremantle, Western Australia

All photography by MRS REDHEAD PHOTOGRAPHY,

Lahinch, Co. Clare www.mrsredhead-foto.com

Design by SARAH JUNE FOX, Dublin www.sarahjunefox.com

Very special thanks to Paul G. Smyth who introduced

me to the Phil Ware trio

BSCD008© and ® 2014 BigSky RecordsAll rights reserved

HEAD AND HEART

There’s just now way to say how much I love you

You never made me cry and that’s just fine

Only got my fear to put above you

You know we all get scared from time to time

chorus: Love me with your head and heart

Love me from the place it starts

Love me from your head and heart

Love me like a child

There’s just no way to play the things I’m feeling

No way to tell you all the things you need

Every day I only feel like stealing away

To where I know I can be clean

Love me with your head and heart

Love me from the place it starts

Love me from your head and heart

Love me when I’m wild

Laying down the ways to say I need you

Scared of looking tall and feeling small

Running through the days I have decided

Scared of being wrong and that’s it all

Love me …

BANKS OF THE LEE

When two lovers meet down beside the green bower

When two lovers meet down beneath the green tree

When Mary, fond Mary, declared to her lover

“You have stolen my poor heart from the Banks of the Lee”

chorus: I loved her very dearly, so true and sincerely

There was no one in this wide world I loved better than she

Every bush, every bower, every sweet Irish flower

Reminds me of my Mary, on the banks of the Lee.

“Don’t stay out late, love, on the moorlands, my Mary

Don’t stay out late, love, on the moorlands from me”

How little was our notion when we parted on the ocean

That we were forever parted from the Banks of the Lee

chorus

I will pluck her some roses, some blooming Irish roses

I will pluck her some roses, the fairest that ever grew

And I’ll leave them on the grave of my own true lovely Mary

In that cold and silent churchyard where she sleeps ‘neath the dew

1 2

EVERY GRAIN OF SAND

In the time of my confession, in the hour of my deepest need

When the pool of tears beneath my feet flood every newborn seed

There’s a dying voice within me reaching out somewhere

Toiling in the danger and in the morals of despair.

Don’t have the inclination to look back on any mistake

Like Cain, I now behold this chain of events that I must break

In the fury of the moment I can see the master’s hand

In every leaf that trembles, in every grain of sand.

Oh, the flowers of indulgence and the weeds of yesteryear

Like criminals, they have choked the breath of conscience and good cheer

The sun beat down upon the steps of time to light the way

To ease the pain of idleness and the memory of decay.

I gaze into the doorway of temptation’s angry flame

And every time I pass that way I always hear my name

Then onward in my journey I come to understand

That every hair is numbered like every grain of sand.

I have gone from rags to riches in the sorrow of the night

In the violence of a summer’s dream, in the chill of a wintry light

In the bitter dance of loneliness fading into space

In the broken mirror of innocence on each forgotten face.

I hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea

Sometimes I turn, there’s someone there, other time it’s only me

I am hanging in the balance of the reality of man

Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand.

3

GIVE YOU WINGS

I hear you with your friends outside

I see you walking through the door

I’d freely give my one last breath

To hold you just once more

People tell me I’m so brave

People ask me to be strong

I fumble through these empty days

Wondering how I’ll carry on

For You

You should always come home

You my child

You should always come home to me

They tell me I should give you wings

They tell me spirits never die

In the brokenness of everything

I sit, and wait, and cry

For You

You should always come home

You my child

You should always come home to me

They tell me I should give you wings

They tell me I should let you go

They tell me I should give you wings

But how?

I don’t know

Someday I might give you

Give you wings

THE FIRST TIME EVER I SAW YOUR FACE

The first time ever I saw your face

I thought the sun rose in your eyes

And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave

To the dark and the empty skies

The first time ever I kissed your mouth

I felt the earth move in my hands

Like the trembling heart of a captive bird

That was there at my command my love

The first time ever I lay with you

I felt your heart so close to mine

And I knew our joy would fill the Earth

And last, and last, and last till the end of time

The first time ever I saw your face

4 5

GENTLE ON MY MIND

It’s knowing that your door is always open

And your path is free to walk

That makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag

Rolled up and stashed behind your couch

And it’s knowing I’m not shackled

By forgotten words and bonds

And the ink stains that have dried upon some line

That keeps you in the backroads

By the rivers of my mem’ry

That keeps you ever gentle on my mind

It’s not clinging to the rocks and ivy

Planted on their columns now that binds me

Or something that somebody said

Because they thought we fit together walking

It’s just knowing that the world will not be cursing

Or forgiving when I walk along some railroad track and find

That you are moving on the backroads

By the rivers of my mem’ry

And for hours you’re just gentle on my mind

Though the wheat fields and the clothes lines

And the junkyards and the highways come between us

And some other woman crying to her mother

‘Cause she turned and I was gone

I still might run in silence tears of joy might stain my face

And the summer sun might burn me ‘til I’m blind

But not to where I cannot see you walkin’ on the backroads

By the rivers flowing gentle on my mind

I dip my cup of soup back from the gurglin’

Cracklin’ caldron in some train yard

My beard a-rufflin’cold cowl

A dirty hat pulled low across my face

Through cupped hands ‘round a tin can

I pretend I hold you to my breast and find

That you’re waving from the backroads

By the rivers of my mem’ry

Ever smilin’ ever gentle on my mind

6

MY WILD IRISH ROSE

If you listen I’ll sing you a sweet little song

Of a flower that’s now drooped and dead,

Yet dearer to me, yes than all of its mates,

Though each holds aloft its proud head.

Twas given to me by a girl that I know,

Since we’ve met, faith I’ve known no repose.

She is dearer by far than the world’s brightest star,

And I call her my wild Irish Rose.

My wild Irish Rose, the sweetest flower that grows.

You may search everywhere, but none can compare with

my wild Irish Rose.

My wild Irish Rose, the dearest flower that grows,

And some day for my sake, she may let me take the bloom

from my wild Irish Rose.

They may sing of their roses, which by other names,

Would smell just as sweetly, they say.

But I know that my Rose would never consent

To have that sweet name taken away.

Her glances are shy when e’er I pass by

The bower where my true love grows,

And my one wish has been that some day I may win

The heart of my wild Irish Rose.

My wild Irish Rose, the sweetest flower that grows.

You may search everywhere, but none can compare with

my wild Irish Rose.

My wild Irish Rose, the dearest flower that grows,

And some day for my sake, she may let me take the bloom

from my wild Irish Rose.

7

LONESOME ROBIN

Rise up from your bed of straw

See if you can bend that short bow one last time

Speak from your wounds and say you don’t care

You know it’ll prey on your mind

Wherever your arrow it falls to the ground

Lay lonesome Robin down one last time

No more, Robin, no more

Your outlaw days are over

When you were a little boy

You had to go to bed early while the sun still shone

Just like sleep was the end of the world

And tomorrow would never never come

So now lonesome Robin won’t you close your eyes

So that the sun it will rise one last time

No more, Robin, no more

Your outlaw days are over

It’s funny how hot is the sun

Now that you can’t run away from the city

Just lie there and think of the deer you have run

And of all the games that you’ve played

And wondering what Marian’s bound to do that’s better

Than coming to see you one last time

No more, Robin, no more

Your outlaw days are over

And time’s taken your time away

Time and deceptions have whittled you down

All of the times that ever you had

Have took to their heels and run

Hold on to whatever is closest to you

That’s all lonesome Robin can do one last time

No more, Robin, no more

Your outlaw days are over

8

AND I LOVE YOU SO

And I love you so

The people ask me how

How I’ve lived till now

I tell them I don’t know

I guess they understand

How lonely life has been

But life began again

The day you took my hand

And yes, I know how lonely life can be

The shadows follow me

And the night won’t set me free

But I don’t let the evening get me down

Now that you’re around me

And you love me too

Your thoughts are just for me

You set my spirit free

I’m happy that you do

The book of life is brief

And once a page is read

All but love is dead

That is my belief

9

And yes, I know how loveless life can be

The shadows follow me

And the night won’t set me free

But I don’t let the evening get me down

Now that you’re around me

And I love you so

The people ask me how

How I’ve lived till now

I tell them I don’t know

LIFFEYSIDE

The sweet smell of gorse in the summer

The touch of blue mountain so near

The bloodrush of horses at sunrise

The song of the old oak I hear

Your bluebelled woodlands I’ve rambled

I’ve seen swallows preparing to fly

Rested my tired old heartaches

In a cradle below your big sky

And oh the Liffeyside

Noble river, flows so free

No matter where I wander

You are home to me

Sometimes this world makes me weary

I see troubles all over the land

Pollardstown’s long grassy breezes

Remind me where goodness began

The sweet smell of gorse in the summer

The touch of blue mountains so near

The bloodrush of horses at sunrise

The song of the old oak I hear

And oh the liffeyside

Noble river, flows so free

No matter where I wander

You are home to me

DANNY BOY

Oh Danny Boy the pipes, the pipes are calling

from glen to glen and down the mountain side

The summer’s gone and all the roses dying

‘tis you ‘tis you must go and I must bide

But come ye back when summer’s in the meadow

or when the valley’s hushed and white whith snow

‘Tis I’ll be there in sunshine or in shadow

Oh Danny Boy, Oh Danny Boy I love you so

And when ye come and all the flowers are dying

If I am dead, as dead I well may be

You’ll come and find the place where I am lying

And kneel and say an Ave there for me

And I shall hear tho’ soft you tread above me

And all my grave will warmer sweeter be

If you will bend and tell me that you love me

Then I shall sleep in peace until you come to me

10 11

THE JOY OF LIVING

Farewell you northern hills, you mountains all goodbye

Moorland and stony ridges, crags and peaks goodbye

Glyder Fach farewell, Cul Beag, Scafell, cloud-bearing Suilven

Sun warmed rock and the cold of Bleaklow’s frozen sea

The snow and the wind and the rain of hills and mountains

Days in the sun and the tempered wind and the air like wine

And you drink and you drink till you’re drunk on the joy of living

Farewell to you my love, my time is almost done

Lie in my arms once more until the darkness comes

You filled all my days, held the night at bay, dearest companion

Years pass by and they’re gone with the speed of birds in flight

Our life like the verse of a song heard in the mountains

Give me your hand then love and join your voice with mine

We’ll sing of the hurt and pain and the joy of living

Farewell to you my chicks, soon you must fly alone

Flesh of my flesh, my future life, bone of my bone

May your wings be strong, may your days be long, safe be your journey

Each of you bears inside of you the gift of love

May it bring you light and warmth and the pleasure of giving

Eagerly savour each new day and the taste of it’s mouth

Never lose sight of the thrill and the joy of living

Take me to some high place of heather, rock and ling

Scatter my dust and ashes, feed me to the wind

So that I will be part of all you see, the air you are breathing

I’ll be part of the curlew’s cry and the soaring hawk

The blue milkwort and the sundew hung with diamonds

I’ll be riding the gentle wind that blows through your hair

Reminding you how we shared in the joy of living

12