Singer/songwriter/guitarists David Harley and Don MacLeod met at the Boundary Road folk club in Swiss Cottage in the early 1980s. Discovering they had somewhat similar guitar styles and tastes in music, they eventually joined forces and worked together for a while as a duo and with other musicians. Then came a short hiatus of 30 years or so due to parenthood, work and geographical issues, before they got together for a few appearances in Worcestershire and Cornwall. Then, of course, came the pandemic, so any plans for further appearances or recordings are on hold. However, some recordings of songs they wrote and/or played together in the 1980s do exist, and are presented here.
‘Here Tomorrow’ was recorded around 1982 at Hallmark, a stone’s throw from Carnaby Street for an album (unreleased for contractual reasons) that would also have featured Bob Theil, Bob Cairns, and Pat Orchard: it wasn’t a band album, but one intended to showcase the work of all five as songwriters: the engineer was Steve Hall.
(Note to anyone looking at this post in the Reader or on a phone you may need to visit the actual site to be able to view and listen to the music track)
Lyrics
Here Tomorrow (Don MacLeod – David Harley)
You don’t have to talk, you know it’s really not a case
Of finding words for filling in our time and space
I’ll still be here tomorrow, if that’s what you want too
Who else could take me where we’ve been? No-one else but you
The day was a river of darkness / Till you brightened up the night
And that’s the best of good reasons / To come close and turn down the light
There’s a lot to say, a lot I guess we should discuss
But surely later would be soon enough
I’ll still be here tomorrow, if that’s what you want too
Who else could take me where we’ve been? No-one else but you
It’s not the time for true confessions / Lying here still aglow
With all your warmth and softness / God knows there’s nowhere else I’d want to go
We could talk of time and changes, good trips and bad
And just for once time is on our side
But now’s the time for loving and resting so close
And yesterday is dreams and nursery rhymes
I’ll still be here tomorrow, if that’s what you want too
Who else could take me where we’ve been? No-one else but you
Who else could take me where we’ve been? No-one else but you
Singer/songwriter/guitarists David Harley and Don MacLeod met at the Boundary Road folk club in Swiss Cottage in the early 1980s. Discovering they had somewhat similar guitar styles and tastes in music, they eventually joined forces and worked together for a while as a duo and with other musicians. Then came a short hiatus of 30 years or so due to parenthood, work and geographical issues, before they got together for a few appearances in Worcestershire and Cornwall. Then, of course, came the pandemic, so any plans for further appearances or recordings are on hold. However, some recordings of songs they wrote and/or played together in the 1980s do exist, and are presented here.
(Note to anyone looking at this post in the Reader or on a phone you may need to visit the actual site to be able to view and listen to the music track)
“This track was recorded at Centre Sound, in Camden, in 1983. Really Don’s song, but apparently I tweaked the lyric a little. I love the ragtime feel to his guitar here.”
Lyrics
She’s Gone (Don MacLeod – David Harley)
She’s gone: too bad…
And I wanted so much more
But now, too late,
I see what she was looking for
Wasn’t me at all
Just a lay-by
On the road to bigger things
Too bad: I guess
We all live and learn
Too late, sometimes, like now
But she’s not concerned
About who she burns
So I guess I’ll just get on with my life
She met someone else, and then went away
And it broke me up, but just today
I woke up with someone else on my mind
I guess I can take it, I guess I’ll survive
One day at a time
Until I make contact
And I’ll forget in time
How she turned her back
And said so matter-of-fact
“My love, I don’t love you any more…”
I lost my woman to another man
There’s nothing new under the sun
I woke up with someone else by my side
I guess I can take it, I guess I’ll survive
One day
At a time
One day
At a time…
credits
from View From The Top, released March 16, 2021
Written by Don MacLeod and David Harley.
Acoustic guitar: Don MacLeod
Vocals and electric guitar: David Harley
Reel4Transfer for recovering usable tracks from the Centre Sound tapes – which had suffered deterioration from ‘sticky shed syndrome’ – and transferring them to digital media.
Singer/songwriter/guitarists David Harley and Don MacLeod met at the Boundary Road folk club in Swiss Cottage in the early 1980s. Discovering they had somewhat similar guitar styles and tastes in music, they eventually joined forces and worked together for a while as a duo and with other musicians. Then came a short hiatus of 30 years or so due to parenthood, work and geographical issues, before they got together for a few appearances in Worcestershire and Cornwall. Then, of course, came the pandemic, so any plans for further appearances or recordings are on hold. However, some recordings of songs they wrote and/or played together in the 1980s do exist, and are presented here.
(Note to anyone looking at this post in the Reader or on a phone you may need to visit the actual site to be able to view and listen to the music track)
“One of Don’s songs: a very pretty tune, but his always are. This track was recorded at Centre Sound, in Camden, in 1983.”
lyrics
Speak My Heart (Don MacLeod)
My love’s so many miles away
Makes it so hard to live through every day
Now I’m a watcher, a looker-on
I see my life as lived by someone I hardly know
Love is so near and yet so far
If what we speak we are
And every day that we’re apart
I realize how little I’ve shown my heart
I sometimes think I’m just a hopeless case
And I’ve always been the same old way
I get in such a hopeless mess
Because I find it so hard
To speak my heart
So the days may turn and the world may roll
We do our very best to keep body and soul
One thing’s for certain right from the start
You can lose your mind if you don’t know your heart
And speak your heart
credits
from View From The Top, released March 16, 2021
Words and music: Don MacLeod.
Acoustic guitar: Don MacLeod.
Vocals and lead guitars: David Harley.
Reel4Transfer for recovering usable tracks from the Centre Sound tapes – which had suffered deterioration from ‘sticky shed syndrome’ – and transferring them to digital media.
Brian of Bushboy’s World blog suggested that maybe I could post more of the OH’s songs on my blog so here’s another one I like. Maybe a Musical Monday theme.
“Distrokid tells me that it’s four years since the Upcountry album was released, so here’s a track from it. Though it was actually recorded several years before, and it’s not how I play it now: still, it has quite a nice country-ish feel, though a little less slide might have improved the last verse. I may revisit that, if I can find the premix tracks.”
(Note to anyone looking at this post in the Reader or on a phone you may need to visit the actual site to be able to view and listen to the music track)
Lyrics
This Guitar Just Plays the Blues
A trace of your scent still lingers on my pillow
And raises echoes in my memory
And I believe you’re missing me almost as much as I miss you
But I wish to God that you were here with me
The sun will surely rise on another soft blue morning
And lying in your arms is where I’ll be
With sweet dreams still in my eyes, I’ll wake and kiss your hair
But it’s a long cold night while you’re not here with me
This guitar once played for keeps, but since you changed my life
This guitar just plays for you, if that’s OK?
This guitar rang bells for losers, but there’ll be no more songs of losing
Though this guitar just plays the blues while you’re away
Credits
from Upcountry, released September 25, 2021
Words & music by David A. Harley. Vocal and guitars by David A. Harley. The slide part is a Gretsch Bobtail resonator guitar, by the way.
Those of you who have been following this blog for some time will remember that I once lived in Ludlow, Shropshire with the OH for several years (he was a Shropshire lad). We moved there to help support my mother-in-law who was struggling to cope living on her own. When we finally decided to drop anchor in Cornwall (having arranged care workers to call in daily) the OH still did a monthly journey back to visit his mum.
This song was written from that journey. But I’ll let David provide the narrative.
The song was actually mostly written on a train between Shrewsbury and Newport at a time when I was frequently commuting between Shropshire and Cornwall to visit my frail 94-year-old mother, who died a few months after, so it has particular resonance for me. It originally included a couple of extra verses about Hereford and the Vale of Usk, but after the ‘Wrekin’ chorus forced its way into the song, I decided to restrict it to the Shropshire-related verses. Maybe they’ll turn up sometime as another song.
(Note to anyone looking at this post in the Reader or on a phone you may need to visit the actual site to be able to view and listen to the music track)
Lyrics
Friends Around the Wrekin
The Abbey watches my train crawling Southwards
Thoughts of Cadfael kneeling in his cell
All along the Marches Line,
Myth and history, prose and rhyme
But those are tales I won’t be here to tell
The hill is crouching like a cat at play
Its beacon flashing red across the plain
Once we were all friends around the Wrekin
But some will never pass this way again
Lawley and Caradoc fill my window
Facing down the Long Mynd, lost in rain
But I’m weighed down with the creaks and groans
Of all the years I’ve known
And I don’t think I’ll walk these hills again
Stokesay dreams its humble glories
Stories that will never come again
Across the Shropshire hills
The rain is blowing still
But the Marcher Lords won’t ride this way again
The royal ghosts of Catherine and Arthur
May walk the paths of Whitcliffe now and then
Housman’s ashes grace
The Cathedral of the Marches
He will not walk Ludlow’s streets again
The hill is crouching like a cat at play
Its beacon flashing red across the plain
Once we were all friends around the Wrekin
But some will never pass this way again
And I may never pass this way again
Historical Notes
‘The Abbey’ is actually Shrewsbury’s Abbey Church: not much else of the Abbey survived the Dissolution in 1540 and then Telford’s roadbuilding in 1836. Cadfael is the fictional monk/detective whose home was the Abbey around 1135-45, according to the novels by ‘Ellis Peters’ (Edith Pargeter).
Shrewsbury Abbey
The Welsh Marches Line runs from Newport (the one in Gwent) to Shrewsbury. Or, arguably, up as far as Crewe, since it follows the March of Wales from which it takes its name, the buffer zone between the Welsh principalities and the English monarchy which extended well into present-day Cheshire.
‘The hill’ is the Wrekin, which, though at a little over 400 metres high is smaller than many of the other Shropshire Hills, is isolated enough from the others to dominate the Shropshire Plain.
The Wrekin
The beacon is at the top of the Wrekin Transmitting Station mast, though a beacon was first erected there during WWII. The Shropshire toast ‘All friends around the Wrekin’ seems to have been recorded first in the dedication of George Farquar’s 1706 play ‘The Recruiting Officer’, set in Shrewsbury.
Carding Mill Valley – In the Shropshire Hills, near Church Stretton, connected to the Long Mynd.
‘Lawley’ refers to the hill rather than to the township in Telford. The Lawley and Caer Caradoc do indeed dominate the landscape on the East side of the Stretton Gap coming towards Church Stretton from the North via the Marches Line or the A49, while the Long Mynd (‘Long Mountain’) pretty much owns the Western side of the Gap.
Shropshire Hills on the east side of the Strettons
Stokesay Castle, near Craven Arms, is technically a fortified manor house rather than a true castle. It was built in the late 13th century by the wool merchant Laurence of Ludlow, and has been extensively restored in recent years by English Heritage, who suggest that the lightness of its fortification might actually have been intentional, to avoid presenting any threat to the established Marcher Lords.
Stokesay castle and Gatehouse
Prince Arthur, elder brother of Henry VIII, was sent with his bride Catherine of Aragon to Ludlow administer the Council of Wales and the Marches, and died there after only a few months.
Ludlow Castle (once home to Arthur and Catherine of Aragon)
Catherine went on to marry and be divorced by Henry VIII, and died about 30 years later at Kimbolton Castle. Catherine is reputed to haunt both Kimbolton and Ludlow Castle lodge, so it’s unlikely that she also haunts Whitcliffe, the other side of the Teme from Ludlow Castle. (As far as I know, no-one is claimed to haunt Whitcliffe. Poetic licence…) The town itself does have more than its fair share of ghosts, though.
Whitcliffe Common
For some time it has puzzled me that in ‘A Ballad for Catherine of Aragon’, Charles Causley refers to her as “…a Queen of 24…” until I realized he was probably referring not to her age, but to the length of time (June 1509 until May 1533) that she was acknowledged to be Queen of England.
The ashes of A.E. Housman are indeed buried in the grounds of St. Laurence’s church, Ludlow, which is not in fact a cathedral, but is often referred to as ‘the Cathedral of the Marches’. It is indeed a church with many fine features and its tower is visible from a considerable distance (and plays a major part in Housman’s poem ‘The Recruit’).
Cathedral of the Marches
RIP David: 1949 – 2025
David standing on the top of the Wrekin -25 01 2004 ( 3 months after our marriage) the only time I ever climbed up it and the only time I managed to persuade him to shave!
TRAVEL WORDS 