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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.
Anthem 03:32
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
2.
Valkyries 03:42
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.
3.
Ghosts 04:40
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
4.
Multiverse 02:59
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.

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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OAT New Brunswick

Folkened acoustic rock from the Maritimes.

www.facebook.com/oatband/

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