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Pendulum

by Gillian Frame

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    A signed copy of Gillian Frame's new album 'Pendulum'. Comes in a lovely gatefold card case with artwork by Lillias Kinsman-Blake and photos by James Morrison.

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about

This is a collection of songs and tunes that have cemented themselves into my repertoire over the last 15 or so years. Favourites from both performing and teaching contexts and arranged here with the support of the wonderful Mike Vass, Anna Massie and Euan Burton. I hope you enjoy!

credits

released February 2, 2016

Gillian Frame – Vocals, Fiddle
Mike Vass – Tenor Guitar, Mandolin, Viola, Vocals Anna Massie – Guitar, Banjo, Mandolin, Vocals Euan Burton – Double Bass, Vocals Adam Holmes – Vocals
Phil Hague – Percussion

Produced by Mike Vass
Engineered by Euan Burton and Mike Vass at GloWorm Recording
Mixed by Iain Hutchison at GloWorm Recording
Mastered by Stuart Hamilton at Castlesound Studio

Artwork and Design by Lillias Kinsman-Blake Photography by
James Morrison

Supported by the National Lottery through Creative Scotland

Thanks:
Simon Thoumire and Persephone Nichol-Bose at Hands Up for Trad. Creative Scotland. Mike Vass. Euan Burton. Findlay Napier and Lucy. Anna Massie. Adam Holmes. Phil Hague. Seonaid Daly. Simon McKerrell. David Francis. Bella Hardy. James Morrison. Lillias-Kinsman Blake. Sharon Stephen (make up). Lauren MacColl. The Frames and Napiers. All the wonderful musicians and bands I have had the pleasure of working with over the years especially Back of the Moon, Bar Room Mountaineers, Fiona Hunter Band and Hunter’s Law.
For Dad and Mum.

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about

Gillian Frame Glasgow, UK

Gillian is a Scottish fiddle player. She has worked with many acts and was a founding member of Back of the Moon with whom she toured for seven years, seeing them win various accolades including Best Up and Coming Act then Best Folk Band at the Scots Trad Music Awards. She graduated with a BA (Hons) in Scottish Music from the RCS and was the Young Scottish Traditional Musician of the Year in 2001. ... more

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Track Name: Rothes Colliery
The Rothes Colliery

The carriage hall’s three stories high
Deep down under the ground
Strip lights hanging from a coal black sky
Down the Rothes Colliery

Forbes promised them work for 100 years
Deep down under the ground
They built a town for volunteers
Down the Rothes Colliery

Even the monarch put in a shift
Deep down under the ground
Swapped her dress for a boiler suit
Down the Rothes Colliery

But Mother Nature got in the way
Deep down under the ground
And tried to wash that pit away
Down the Rothes Colliery

Saw it once when I was thirteen
Deep down under the ground
Changing bulbs on the end of a crane
Down the Rothes Colliery

No one there but my dad and me
Deep down under the ground
A the dark old promise of what could have been
Down the Rothes Colliery
Track Name: Lovely Molly
Lovely Molly


As Molly was milking her yowes on a day
Oh by came young Jamie who to her did say
Your fingers are nimble the yowes they are free
We’ll ca the yowes tae the knowes lovely Molly.

Oh where is your father the young man did say
Oh where is your father my lovely young Mae
He’s up in the green fields awaiting for me
We’ll ca the yowes tae the knowes lovely Molly

My father’s a shepherd herds sheep on yon hill
If you get his sanction I will go at your will
And if he does grant it, right glad I will be
We’ll ca the yowes tae the knowes lovely Molly

Good morning to you old man you are herding your flock
I want a young yowe lamb one of your own stock
I want a young yowe lamb and the best she maun be
We’ll ca the yowes tae the knowes lovely Molly

Go down to yon meadow choose out your own lamb
And be sure you are welcome as ony young man
You are heartily welcome and the best she maun be
We’ll ca the yowes tae the knowes lovely Molly

He’s gone down to the meadow taen Moll by the hand
And soon by the old man this couple did stand
Saying this is the yowe lamb I purchased from thee
We’ll ca the yowes tae the knowes lovely Molly

Was there ever an old man so bewitched as I am
To sell my ain daughter instead o a lamb
But since I hae said it een sae let it be
We’ll ca the yowes tae the knowes lovely Molly
Track Name: The Echo Mocks the Corncrake
The Echo Mocks the Corncrake


O the lad that I loo'd best of all
Was handsome young and fair
Wi him I spent some merry nichts
Along the banks o' Ayr
Wi him I spent some merry nichts
Whaur yon wee burnie rows
And the echo mocks the corncrake
Amongst the Whinny Knowes

We loved each other dearly
And disputes we seldom had
As constant as the pendulum
His heart beat always gaed
We sought for joy and found it
Whaur the scented clover growes
Whaur the echo mocks the corncrake
Amongst the Whinny Knowes

Ye maidens fair and pleasure dames
Flock tae the banks o' Doon
Ye’ll dearly pay for every scent
To the barbers for perfume
But rural joy is free for a'
Whaur the scented clover grows
Whaur the echo mocks the corncrake
Amongst the Whinny Knowes

The corncrake is noo awa'
The burn is tae the brim
The Whinny Knowes are clad wi' snaw
That taps the highest whim
But when cauld winter is awa'
And summer clears the sky
We'll welcome back the corncrake
The bird o' rural joys
Track Name: Silver Tassie
Silver Tassie


Gae fetch to me a pint o wine,
And fill it in a silver tassie;
That I may drink, before I go,
A service to my bonnie lassie.

The boat rocks at the Pier o' Leith,
Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the Ferry,
The ship rides by the Berwick-law,
And I maun leave my bonnie Mary.

The trumpets sound and the banners fly,
The glittering spears are ranked ready,
The shouts o' war are heard afar,
The battle closes deep and bloody.

It's not the roar o' sea or shore,
That maks me langer wish to tarry;
Nor shouts o' war that's heard afar-
It's leaving thee, my bonny Mary!
Track Name: Fine Flooers
Fine flowers in the valley

She lay doon below a thorn,
Fine flowers in the valley,
And there she has her sweet babe born
And the green leaves they grow rarely.

Smile nae sae sweet, by bonnie babe
Fine flowers in the valley,
Ye smile sae sweet, ye'll smile me deid
And the green leaves they grow rarely.

She's taen out her wee penknife
Fine flowers in the valley,
And twinn'd the sweet babe o' its life,
And the green leaves they grow rarely.

She's howket a grave by the light o' the moon,
Fine flowers in the valley,
And there she's buried her sweet babe in,
And the green leaves they grow rarely.

As she was going to the church,
Fine flowers in the valley,
She saw a sweet babe in the porch,
And the green leaves they grow rarely.

O sweet babe and thou were mine,
Fine flowers in the valley,
It’s I’d clad thee in the silk so fine
And the green leaves they grow rarely.

O mother dear, when I was thine,
Fine flowers in the valley,
You did na prove to me sae kind,
And the green leaves they grow rarely.
Track Name: The Lass o Glenshee
Lass o Glenshee

A fine summer day, when the heather was blooming,
And the silent hills hummed wi' the honey-lade bee,
I met a fair maid as I hameward was roaming,
A-herding' her sheep on the hills o Glenshee.

I kissed and caressed her, and said, "My dear lassie,
If you will but gang to St. Johnstone wi' me
There's nane o' the fair shall set foot on the causeway
Wi' clothing mair fine than the lass o' Glenshee.

"A carriage o' pleasure ye shall hae to ride in,
And folks shall say 'madam' when they speak to thee:
An' servant ye'll hae for to beck at your biddin',
I'll make you my lady, sweet lass o' Glenshee."

"Oh mock nae me, sir, wi' your carriage to ride in,
Nor think that your grandeur I value a flea:
I would think mysel' blessed in a coatie o' plaidin',
Wi' an innocent herd on the hills o' Glenshee."

Oh. leave me, sweet lad, for I am sure I would blunder.
An' set a' the gentry a-laughin' at me:
They are book-taught ill manners. baith auld and young yonder
A thing we ken nocht o' up here in Glenshee

Dinna think o' such stories, but come up behind me.
Ere Phoebus gae round my sweet bride you shall be
This night, in my arms, I'1l dote on you kindly:
She smiled, she consented. I took her wi me.

Now years hae gane by since we buskit the gither.
And seasons hae changed, but nae change is wi` me,
She's ever as gay as the fine summer weather.
When the sun's at its height on the hills o' Glenshee