Coffee, Ale, and Southumbrian Tales

by OAT

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Adamn
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Adamn Joel Violette's (the mastermind behind blakened-folk band Thrawsunblat) all acoustic maritime folk band really bring fun full-on folk tunes with great, varying vocals and excellent strumming and plucking acoustic instruments. If you're a fan of Thrawsunblat's acoustic "Vast Arboreal Sky" EP, this is most definitely worth checking out! Favorite track: Ghosts.
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1.
03:32
2.
03:42
3.
04:40
4.
02:59

credits

released September 10, 2015

Guitars, banjo, vocals, some bass: Joel Violette
Bass: Geoff Hutchin
Vocals: Nicki Smith
Percussion: Scott Cuzner
Fiddle: Jeff Mott

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about

OAT New Brunswick

Folkened acoustic rock from the Maritimes.

facebook: oatband

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Track Name: Anthem
Once I went to California
To try myself a tasty dish
But my friends I’d better warn ya
When I asked for a beer they gave me a pint of piss.

Once I went to New York City
To join myself in all the din,
But my welcome there was quite a pity
When I asked for a beer they robbed me to the skin.

Come let’s sing the Maritimes
Come and pour yourself a pint
Come let’s sing the Maritimes
The best damn times you’ll ever find.

Once I went out to Newfoundland
To try my luck with hook and rod
But I got a few stares and thought I might get pounded
When I asked for a beer they made me kiss a cod.

Once I went to Montreal
To see what things that could be seen.
I don’t think they understood me at all
When I asked for a beer they gave me a poutine.

Once I went out to Toronto
The most Canadian city under the moon
But I spun on my heel and shot out of there pronto
When I asked for a beer they didn’t have Picaroons
Track Name: Valkyries
Come with me you rare and dangerous beauty
Let’s find what no one else can
Some heroic, illustrious personalities
What’s sorely lacking to this land

Heroes today are out running around fields.
Kicking hide at one another, throwing dried out dusty leather.
To crown themselves king of cutting big deals.
As the Valkyries circle on above, like frustrated seagulls,
For whom no one is dropping a scrap.

The Fates have always weaved the lives of heroes
Spinning for them dashing quests, far away.
But the Fates these days are sitting ‘round weaving jerseys.
And lime-green practice vests, for terrible pay.

But when you see your childhood hero
In a bad moustache, mustard dripping down his chest.
Don’t you fret a single moment—
Achilles and Hercules would have got their beer bellies
If they’d managed to live long enough.

So you see heroes are fleeting.
But they, in all their shapes and heights.
Are all something we aspire to.
That’s what they do.

Let’s find a hero today.
So let’s bang and crash and see who comes running.
In this day and age, let’s look for that rare trait.
He who feeds the man outside December city hall.
She who pulls the man back from head-on bus sprawl.
Who tells the Valkyries they can go home.
Track Name: Ghosts
So hold fast, and don’t mind us old ghosts.
You’ve got years left of light and warm blood in your bones.
So hold fast, and don’t mind us old ghosts.

A deafening bang wakes me in the night; the pumps have failed again.
Light fills the crack around my door and a figure enters the cabin.

You heard this place is cursed, but trust us we’re the worst.
And we just want to pass on our tale.

The North all warned us don’t come up here; just let that dead ship lie
I can’t believe I came all this way just to freeze my bones and die.

Yes, we sought fame and fortune too; we left our families behind.
We loaded up our ships and set for the North; a bold new path to try.

With Erebus at her side, the Terror could never die.
But our hubris overcame us and this is where we lie.

The Northwest Passage in his sights, the captain only had our lives to spend
But before we’d thought to mutiny, we would never see light again
Track Name: Multiverse
Wasting all my caffeine hours
Neglecting what you might call my powers
Some time is lent, some pissed away
But mine is spent on cold hard pay.

No time for sun or distant clime,
No time for song or hazy skies.
When day is done and all is said
Just time enough to rest my head.

Open up a wormhole to the multiverse
Leak a bit of time in from where no one would notice

Steal some time from some Wall Street bore
And soak in the rays on Glasto Tor.
Thieve a spell from some ad firm fibber
And drift along the Yangtze River.

Someone once said businessmen don’t read fiction.
That’s because businessmen don’t get paid for the size of their diction.

Pilfer some hours from some broker louse
And peruse the collected works of Wodehouse
Take a few days from some tabloid snake
And watch the sun sink into Ha Long Bay.

Just find a single wormhole to some universe
Where wastrels piss the time away by the hogshead barrel every day.

Though I swear there’s a wormhole at the bottom of this mug.
Cut. Cut.— I’m all out of coffee, here.