Naomi Randall with Tom Gaskell

by Naomi Randall & Tom Gaskell

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about

A collaborative album of acid-folk from psychedelic songstress Naomi Randall and multi-instrumentalist & producer Tom Gaskell.
Recorded sporadically over three years at Big G Studéos, and finally released on Aaahh!!! Real Records on 3rd March 2014.

www.naomirandall.co.uk
www.tomgaskell.co.uk
www.real-records.co.uk

credits

released March 3, 2014

© + ℗ Aaahh!!! Real Records 2014
www.real-records.co.uk

Produced and recorded by Tom Gaskell
at Big G Studéos, Cambridge
www.tomgaskell.co.uk

Mastered by Chris Mann for Prods In The Dark
www.prodsinthedark.co.uk

Illustrations by Naomi Randall.
Inner photography by Keith Railton.
Back cover photography by Paul Green.

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all rights reserved

about

Naomi Randall & Tom Gaskell Cambridge, UK

Cambridge based psychedelic songstress and Middle-earth beatnik.

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Track Name: La Pernette
Oh, Pernette, she rises.
Oh, Pernette rises three hours before the day.
Three hours before the day.

Her mother asks her, "Pernette"
Her mother asks her, "Pernette, what have you to look so ill?
What have you to look so ill?"

"Oh, have you a headache Pernette?
Have you a headache Pernette, or have you a broken heart?
Have you a broken heart?"

"I do not have a headache,
I do not have a headache, but know the pain that is love.
Though know the pain that is love."

"Do not cry so Pernette,
Do not cry so Pernette, for you are to be wed.
For you are to be wed."

"The wealthy son of a Baron,
The wealthy son of a Baron, or the son of a Prince.
Or the son of a Prince."

"I do not want a Baron,
I do not want a Baron, nor want the love of a Prince.
Nor want the love of a Prince."

"I want Pierre, my true love,
I want Pierre, my true love, the one who in prison lies.
The one who in prison lies"

"Thou shalt not your Pierre have,
Thou shalt not your Pierre have, for he is to be hung.
For he is to be hung."

"Oh, if they hang my Pierre,
If they hang my Pierre, then hang me right by his side.
Hang me by his side."

"The path of Saint Jacques.
Oh, the path of Saint Jacques, he shall bury us both.
He shall bury us both."

"And with sweet roses cover him,
With sweet roses cover him and me with a thousand flowers.
Me with a thousand flowers."
Track Name: Nottamun Town
In Nottamun Town, not a soul would look up.
Not a soul would look up, not a soul would look down.
Not a soul would look up, not a soul would look down.
To show me to way to fair Nottamun Town.

I rode a big horse, that is called a grey mare.
Grey mane and grey tail, grey stripe down her back.
Grey mane and grey tail, grey stripe down her back.
There weren't a hair on her that wasn't coal black.

She stood so still, she threw me to the dirt,
She tore at my hand, and bruised my shirt.
From saddle to stirrup, I mounted again,
And on my ten toes I rode over the planes.

And when I got there, no one did I see,
They all stood around me, looking at me.
I called for my cup to drive gladness away,
And stifle the dust for it rained the whole day.

Saw the King and the Queen, and a company of men,
A-walking behind and riding before.
A stark naked drummer came marching along,
With his hands at his bosom a-beating his drum.

Sat down on a hearth of frozen stone,
Ten thousand stood round me, yet I was alone.
Took my hat in my hands to keep my head warm,
Ten thousand were drowned dead, that never were born.
Track Name: Sleepy Laddie Door
Lie low the sun, and shadows tall
Across the fields are creeping.
Soon the big round yellow moon
Will o'er the brae come deepin'.

Hasty now lay by your barrow,
Daddy will mend the broken wheel tomorrow.
Come ye in and get ye bedded doon,
It’s time my lad was sleeping.

He’s played all day in golden sun,
And weary is me laddie.
His curly head, it is nodding,
He’s greetin' for his daddy.

Rest ye now my brave wee fellow,
Tears will wet your cosy, cosy pillow.
Close your eyes while mother sings to you,
My sleepy peedie laddie.

Go softly, softly one and all,
And gentle with your speaking.
He’s turned his wee face to the wall,
And ceased his plaintive weeping.

Dream you sweet my bonnie fellow,
Eyes so blue and hair so yellow, yellow.
Hush, now lightly let your footsteps fall,
For my wee lad is sleeping.
Track Name: The Granta
Forgotten pale blue cotton heavens,
Patchwork fields of grey and green.
About the meadow's ribbon hedgerows,
Cross stitch brambles in between.

Oh golden darts of daylight passing,
Slip into the ink of night.
The milk white moon, she softly dances,
Reflecting in your eyes so bright.

See the river's running silver thread,
Hear his tales and whispered rhymes.
Melodies sweetened through the seasons,
He'll sing these songs a thousand times.
Track Name: Nick's Song
(instrumental)
Track Name: Lord Gregory
I am a poor young girl, come straight from Cappoquin,
In search of Lord Gregory, pray God I find him.

The rain beats on my yellow hair, and the dew wets me still,
My babe is cold in my arms, Lord Gregory let me in.

Lord Gregory is not here and hence forth can't be seen,
For he's gone to bonny Scotland to bring home his new Queen.

So leave now these windows and likewise this hall,
For it's deep in the sea you should hide your downfall.

But who'll shoe my babe's little feet, and who'll put gloves on her hands?
Who'll tie up her middle with a long linen band?

Do you remember Lord Gregory, that night in Cappoquin?
We traded pocket handkerchiefs, and me against my will.
For yours were pure linen, love, and mine but coarse cloth.
And yours cost a guinea love, and mine but one groat.

Do you remember Lord Gregory, that night in Cappoquin?
When we traded rings on our fingers love, and me against me will.
For yours were pure silver, and mine were by tin
And yours cost a fortune love, and mine but one cent.

Deep it is you'll find me in a deep and silent grave.
Deep it was I suffered for the sweet gifts that your gave.
Now you can't be with me, as you were oft at the start.
Deep and cruel waves shall wash away my broken heart.

A curse on you mother, my curse being so,
That I dreamt my own true love came a knocking on the door.

Oh lie now my foolish son, lie down now and sleep,
For it's not but a serving girl who lies drowned dead in the deep.

Go saddle me my black horse, oh the brown and the grey,
Go and saddle me my fastest horse in the stable today.

I will ride over mountains and over valleys so wide,
Until I find my own true love, and lay down at her side.
Track Name: Fox's Sunday Best
(instrumental)
Track Name: Bonnie Bunch Of Roses
By the swelling of the ocean,
One morning in the month of June.
By those feathered warbling songsters
Oh their charming notes did sweetly tune.
It was there I spied a woman,
Seeming overcome by grief and woe.
Oh conversing with young Bonaparte,
Concerning the bonnie bunch of roses-o.

Then up spoke young Napoleon,
As he took his mother by the hand.
Saying, "Mother, dear, have patience,
Till I am able for to take command.
I will raise a terrible army,
And through tremendous dangers go.
And in spite of all the Universe,
Shall conquer the bonnie bunch of roses-o."

Oh speak you not so venturesome,
For England is the heart of oak.
Of England, Ireland and Scotland,
I fear their unity shall ne're be broke.
Oh think you on your father,
In the island where he now lies low.
Oh he's not yet interred in France,
Beware the bonnie bunch of roses-o.

Oh your father raised great armies.
And likewise kings did join the throng.
Oh he was so well provided for.
Oh enough to sweep the world along.
But when he came to Moscow,
He as overcome by drifting snow.
And though Moscow was a-blazing,
He lost the bonnie bunch of roses-o.

Oh Mother, adieu, forever,
I am lying on my dying bed.
Oh if I'd of lived, I'd of been brave,
But now I droop my youthful head.
And when, our bones, they do moulder,
And weeping willows over us do grow,
Oh its deeds to poor Napoleon,
shall stain the bonnie bunch of roses-o.
Track Name: St. John's Raga
(instrumental)