“On Raglan Road on an autumn day I met her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue;
I saw the danger, yet I walked along the enchanted way,
And I said, let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day.
On Grafton Street in November we tripped lightly along the ledge
Of the deep ravine where can be seen the worth of passion’s pledge,
The Queen of Hearts still making tarts and I not making hay –
O I loved too much and by such and such is happiness thrown away.
I gave her gifts of the mind I gave her the secret sign that’s known
To the artists who have known the true gods of sound and stone
And word and tint. I did not stint for I gave her poems to say.
With her own name there and her own dark hair like clouds over fields of May
On a quiet street where old ghosts meet I see her walking now
Away from me so hurriedly my reason must allow
That I had wooed not as I should a creature made of clay –
When the angel woos the clay he’d lose his wings at the dawn of day.”
The Dubliners’ Luke Kelly sings “Raglan Road” after describing Patrick Kavanagh’s gift of the poem for the now well known Irish song…
Some bands have made such consistently good music for so long, I sometimes take them for granted. I haven’t posted about Tegan and Sara since before the great crash of ’04 wiped out Muruch’s early archives. Their new album, Love You to Death, is a vivid reminder of what made me love the Canadian singer-songwriter twins so much in the first place. Their trademark immersion of lyrical depth in summery dream pop, such as in “Walking with a Ghost” and “Where Does the Good Go,” is alive and well in new songs “Faint of Heart,” “Boyfriend,” and “Dying to Know.”
Fiona Bevan’s debut album, Talk to Strangers, more than lives up to the promise of its first single. The British singer-songwriter’s quirky soul-pop style falls somewhere between Sheila Nicholls, Joanna Newsom and Corinne Bailey Rae, but these are tenuous reference points at best. Fiona is really carving a niche of her own here.
Fiona’s rich lilt and jaunty instrumentation are particularly charming on “Rebel Without a Cause,” “Slo Mo Tiger Glo” and the lovely “Us and the Darkness.”
The standout track “The Machine” dives into murkier, funkier waters.
Other highlights are Fiona’s exquisite, multi-faceted vocal on “Monsoon Sundance,” the enchanting, buoyant “Pirates and Diamonds” and the simpler beauty of “Forwards.”
I expect Fiona Bevan’s Talk to Strangers to make it on my best of the year list for 2014.