Magpie

by Nick Siepmann

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1.
Byker Hill 02:38
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If I had another penny I would have another gill I would make the piper play me 'The Bonny Lass of Byker Hill' Byker Hill and Walker Shore Collier lads for ever more Byker Hill and Walker Shore Collier lads for ever more The pitman and the keelman trim They drink bumble made from gin Then the dance they do begin To the tune of the Elsie Marley When first I went down to the dirt I had no cowl nor pitshirt Now I've gotten two or three Walker Pit's done well by me Byker Hill and Walker Shore Collier lads for ever more Byker Hill and Walker Shore Collier lads for ever more Geordie Charlton had a pig He hit it with a shovel and it danced a jig All the way to Walker Shore To the tune of the Elsie Marley Byker Hill and Walker Shore Collier lads for ever more Byker Hill and Walker Shore Collier lads for ever more If I had another penny I would have another gill I would make the piper play 'The Bonny Lass of Byker Hill' Byker Hill and Walker Shore Collier lads for ever more Byker Hill and Walker Shore Collier lads for ever more Byker Hill and Walker Shore Collier lads for ever more Byker Hill and Walker Shore Collier lads for ever more
2.
Sirens 03:18
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Lashed to the mast, splashed by the spray of the waves as they crash on the bow Searching the skyline, his heart in his throat as the wind chills the sweat on his brow The crew hold their course as they heave at the oars Deaf to the sound of their wild captain's roar "Turn back, gods damn you all, turn back!" A shape in the mist, a melody borne on the Mediterranean breeze The air in the galley is stifling and hot with the deepening sense of unease But the captain forgets all his terror and pain As the unearthly music suffuses his brain "We come, you sirens fair, we come!" The rocks vanish into the twilight; the captain is writhing and raving no more As they loosen his bindings they see he is not now the man that he had been before In the stillness of night, unable to sleep, He leans on the side staring into the deep “I know; for good or ill, I know." "I have no tongue, no tongue to tell this mystery There are no words, no description and no name The life I knew, a dream beyond remembrance I can no more return from whence I came” Grey-haired and old, many years since regaining the island that once was his home He still hears those voices in the songs of his son, in his eyes sees that cold ocean foam “Beloved Telemachus, this I have seen Gods grant that one day you will know what I mean “My son, that which we are, we are."
3.
Good Morning, Alexander 02:04
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I’ve never been sure how to write something cheerful I always get caught up in worry and strife But I’ll take this occasion at the start of this new year To do what I can To welcome you into my life So good morning, Alexander I can’t wait to meet you and watch as you grow Good morning, Alexander I don’t know what to say so for now I will just say hello So when I come over I could play you a song Or if you prefer we can just play pretend And I'll do what I can as the years move along To be a good uncle And hopefully too a good friend So good morning, Alexander I can’t wait to meet you and watch as you grow Good morning, Alexander I don’t know what to say so for now I will just say hello I can only imagine how it felt for your parents Eagerly waiting for you to be born I can only imagine the life that awaits you I’m so far away but I wish I could wish you Good morning, Alexander I can’t wait to meet you and watch as you grow Good morning, Alexander I don’t know what to say so for now I will just say Good morning, Alexander I can’t wait to meet you and watch as you grow Good morning, Alexander I don’t know what to say so for now I will just say hello
4.
Phoeb's Tune / Oh No, John 02:57
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On yonder hill there stands a creature Who she is I do not know I'll go and court her for her beauty She must answer yes or no Oh no, John, no, John, no, John, no! My father was a Spanish Captain, Went to sea a month ago First he kissed me, then he left me Bid me always answer no Oh no, John, no, John, no, John, no! Oh madam, in your face is beauty, On your lips red roses grow Will you take me for your lover? Madam, answer yes or no Oh no, John, no, John, no, John, no! Oh madam, I will give you jewels, I will make you rich and free I will give you silken dresses, Madam, will you marry me? Oh no, John, no, John, no, John, no! Oh madam, since you are so cruel, And that you do scorn me so If I may not be your lover, Madam will you let me go? Oh no, John, no, John, no, John, no! Then I will stay with you forever If you will not be unkind Madam, I have vowed to love you Would you have me change my mind? Oh no, John, no, John, no, John, no! Oh madam, I hear churchbells ringing Will you come and be my wife? Or dear madam, have you settled To live single all your life? Oh no, John, no, John, no, John Oh no, John, no, John, no, John Oh no, John, no, John, no, John, no!

about

One of the things I value most about music (and folk music especially) is its ability to act as a record of a moment, and as I approach releasing this EP, the more it feels to me like one such snapshot. I know, not the most novel of insights, but… humour me for a rambling paragraph or two. Tomorrow is my first proper set at Bowes Park Folk Club in North London, with whose love and support (and patience for me forgetting lyrics) I have gone from a person who listens to folk music to one who creates it. The club - the people and the place that make it up - has become ingrained in my understanding of this music, and I am continually grateful.

The EP itself is pretty much the result of me furnishing my nest with the various shiny borrowed things that have caught my fancy. It begins and ends with traditional songs - a laconic account of working life in a Newcastle coal pit, then a summery narrative of love and wordplay - and in the middle are two of my best songs so far: mythological mysticism on one hand, and on the other a message personal enough that I genuinely didn’t know how to say it any other way. There’s big stompy fun bits and weird ambient quiet bits, choruses and refrains and a few times round a hornpipe (composed for my partner, who, to this day, has patiently refrained from hurling my piercingly loud tambourine into a fire). I’ve put as much of the stuff I love about folk music into this EP as I know how.

But - as is the way with snapshots - once this EP is out there, the world it reflects will keep changing. I wrote my nephew Alexander his song the day after he was born; in a little over a week, he’ll be two years old. When he’s four, and this EP is two, and my guitar is seven and I’m 31, I wonder what it’ll all sound like. For now though, I hope you enjoy these four songs. I’m very fond of them.

Nick
9 January 2019

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released January 10, 2019

Thanks to James Diamond for his help with the cover art!

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Nick Siepmann London, UK

Folk music brings us the voices of our shared past, and calls us to add our own. The idea of oral tradition - learning, interpreting and sharing - is more vital and present now than it has ever been, and I’m here to play my part in it.

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