30 December 2016 - 0 Comments

This album is so much more than “just” music, and to fully understand, it is necessary to wander into the world of Miss Peach and hear what she has to say.

Miss Peach

I fled a life of comfort and familiarity and thrust myself into a new harsh world. A world I was alone in, and had no one to trust except my own hearts beat, and the sun’s promise of dawn...and on the long dark nights, as the devil knocked upon my door, my music spoke the truth of my heart. It spoke of the earthquakes I left behind and the sung of the woman I was yet to come. I came to realise that this collection of music was beginning to become a prophecy of events yet to exist... This frightened me, yet it also compelled me to go in search of answers. So, I asked the stars and the cards to direct me to company where I could share this music, and to places I could tell my dark tales of love, destruction and rebirth.

I asked the stars and the cards to lead me to souls that could immerse themselves in my own compositions, and I was led into the SAND of Bardo: The place where people would bring out their dead. Some call it limbo, others the realm of rebirth, yet I saw it with my own eyes. A land fertile from the ash, smoke and sea spray of spirits long gone. But three souls remained, bound to each other, their life suffering and final breaths entwined. And I was drawn under the full desert moon, to resurrect their souls and entice them to become…

The Travellin’ Bones

Sarah Spurs

A young woman who was oppressed by her fathers will. Her only joy, was when she was on the back of her loyal horse, Freedom. Riding as strong and as skilled as one of the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse. One evening her father announced she would be sent away to boarding school and her Stallion would be sold to the Union Army to fight in the Rebellion War. Spurs fled. The hooves of Freedom could not be heard as the god of thunder had sliced open the belly of the sky. She and her horse were found at the bottom of a steep cliff that embraced the Sea of Hope. Her Father, full of rage and blind denial of the truth, that his daughter had taken her own life, assaulted the local Farrer and Blacksmith.

Mr. M. Glorit

The Father blamed Glorit for his shoddy work, accusing him, screaming that he killed his daughter due to his poor craftmanship of his horse shoes.  Reminding him that his darling Sarah Spurs ‘could out ride any man’ and this was no accident… Mr M. Glorit was a kind hearted giant, and was sadden to hear of such a sweet spirit lost to the Sea of Hope, yet, he firmly asked her father to leave as he knew deeply there was no truth in his accusations. That very evening…The Father returned with a New Box of Matches and burned Mr. M. Glorit’s home to the ground. Now, as the flames and smoke engulfed the house, sleeping on a bed of straw and horsehair in the back room of Mr. M. Glorit’s home, was a young man, an apprentice. The only name he went by was Tan. And the only woman he dreamed of was Pearl. And as the smoke filled his lungs he whispered her name for the very last time.

Pearl.

The oriental princess of the most notorious opium den of the new world, gifted to her by her drunk father. She was a beauty, and her spirit was as delicate as the silk she wore.  She never cheated, nor stole, and held herself far away from the dragon’s claw……The opium was sold as a means of survival that feed her family that her father had left behind and to the filthy old man he had sold her to. The news travelled quicker than the flames that set alight the midnight air.

Her first true love had been stolen from her. She stole to dimes from her husband’s snuff box and walked through the curtains of the den. She laid down and placed the coins upon her closed wet eyes, as she chased the dragon’s tale to the river of The Ferryman.

My own tale, well… one must keep the cards close to her breast, my secrets and origins are weaved in the fine tapestry of the album SAND.

And so, the tale begins.

Our musical styles and experiences are all varied. Sarah Spurs is a master of jazz, Pearl an exceptional classical virtuoso, Glorit has his roots deeply in the element of metal, and I have been classically trained with the voice, yet self-taught in all instruments I endeavour to play. We all have a taste of passion, danger and drama. That is why, I find, we are may I put, rather entertaining live – as all music should be. For a poem is not alive unless read aloud. You can miss so much of the story, if you are not looking into the eyes of the poet.

One of my own personal delights and the very reason that drives me to compose such honest and visual sonnets, is not to expose, so much, of my own suffering or joy, but to have a lover of music approach myself, after deeply listening to the lyrics and transposing how they heard my song and what those words mean to them……sometimes it is very distant from the original meaning of the song, but that, my dear friend is Art….it is all perspective.

If I can, as an artist inspire someone’s heart to pine, to keep their heart company as it breaks, to fuel a fire, to inspire, to love, to survive…I have in turn handed my patchwork heart over to the hands of the listener.

May they be treat it with respect as I do theirs.

My own personal musical inspirations, songs that break my heart, songs that set me alight, are songs of the old country, Irish Ballads. Music also spanning early music hall, blues, jazz, country and folk.

This is a very special album, from a very special group of people, and if you enjoy music that is part of the soul like Dr. John, then this is a world that you will wish to discover for yourself.

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