Music and Stories from the Great Age of Sail

A review from www.southofmainstream.com

Chantey Singer
ALISON LEE FREEMAN

reviewed by holiday

Alison Lee Freeman is a rather accomplished chantey singer, as she proves in her new full length album, Chantey Singer. For those of you who don’t know, a chantey is “a song sung by sailors to the rhythm of their movements while working” (according http://www.yourdictionary.com). The music is defined by unique vocal melodies, usually witty story telling, and no instruments. Freeman keeps to this tradition and I feel that this record is sort of an attempt by her to sort of educate about just what traditional chantey is and to show that it's still relevant today. Her voice, accompanied by a variety of others, and a shaker on only two tracks, carries you through an entire record of songs varying from the traditional “Derelict” to her own modern humor in “Alison’s Saab Story”, which happens to be the records single.

When I first popped in the record I was rather excited. It's not every day you get to hear this brand of music done somewhat seriously. And certainly for the first four or five songs I was not disappointed. However, with a twelve song record the novelty kind of wore off and although I enjoyed the experience overall, I couldn’t picture myself listening to this again. chantey seems like it would be fun to listen to in a coastal pub on the coast of Maine but here in suburban California it sort of lacks its luster.

The record is certainly fun to listen to and afterwards I felt the urge to get up in my cubicle at work and dance and sing, which gives tribute to the tradition of chantey and for that I applaud Freeman, but still, 12 songs seems a bit much for a vocals only record. Fans of traditional music should own this record.

Genre: Chantey
Released: 2003

Additional information on the record Chantey Singer

I love to sing sea chanteys and I love to sing harmonies.  When I sang with Roll & Go I rarely sang lead because I enjoy singing harmony so much.  Thanks to the miracle of recording I can sing harmonies with myself with help from my father on the low notes.  Scheduling and getting to rehearsals is much simpler and disagreements as to the arrangement are more easily resolved.  With that said, chanteys are best experienced live and rowdy.

In his 1932 book Capstan Bars David W. Bone says, ìBrought on shore together with our discarded spars and canvas, we had thought our working songs would disappear with much of the seamanship they inspired.  Strangely, they have been rescued from the junk heap by an uncanny trick of the very power that condemned them.  As part of radio programmes broadcast they have become popular.  In the process of adapting them to the requirements of professional singers they are in danger of becoming polished and shiny.î  He goes on to say that he believes that ìtheir purpose may be forgottenî.  My arrangements may be ìpolished and shinyî, but I have not forgotten the purpose of these songs.  I would not want to listen to a recording of even the best of fiddlers playing my favorite jigs and reels unaccompanied.  In my opinion, the ear needs more to hold your interest when listening to a recording.

1.         Alison's Saab Story - a Car towing chantey.

            Back River Music Works, BMI

            Words by A L Freeman

            Music based on the sea chantey Randy Dandy-O

Every word of this song is true except that my father did not make me pay for the new tractor clutch.  My trouble with cars is legendary.  I could write verses enough to do whole gigs singing this song.  For the record I love Saabs and I recommend them highly, particularly if you like to hunt deer with your car.

2.         Hanging Johnny - Halyard chantey

            TRAD/ARR A L Freeman with additional verses by A L Freeman

I did a lot of reworking of this song so I could pose the question ìWhat is Johnny hangingî to landlubber audiences.  The adults always seem to require a giant hint.  I take responsibility for the despair and stars verses.

3.         Duna ñ Song of the Sea

            Words by John Masefield

            Music by Gordon Bok copyright 1965

One of the most beautiful songs I know.  I understand completely the sentiment of this song.  My Duna is coastal Maine.  I left seeking adventure and feel every moment away is time spent in exile.

4.         Maid of Amsterdam (AKA A-Roving) a Capstan and pumping chantey

            TRAD/ARR A L Freeman

I have been singing this chantey since my days at the Maine Maritime Museum.  Most sources give its origin as a song in Thomas Heywoodís Rape of Lucrece (1640).  Stan Hugill discounts this notion in his book Songs of the Sea.  It does have a very renaissance feel and lent itself to madrigal style harmonization.

5.         Blood Red Roses a Halyard chantey

            TRAD/ARR Roll & Go who got the idea from Richard and Mimi Farina

Bert Lloyd wrote of the song: "For a halyard shanty this one is unusually well evolved. Stan Hugill thinks it probably started life early in the 19th century. I'd have thought later, by its shape. Its first mention in print is 1879. Old Cape Horners have been unable to suggest the meaning of the refrain. In some Napoleon ballads the British army is referred to as "the bunch of roses". More probably it's an image garbled from a scrap quoted by Hugill: "Come down with your pretty posy/Come down with your cheeks so rosy."  Norris Dale (Roll & Go) and I peeled the paint off a few venues with this one.

6.         General Taylor a Capstan and pumping chantey

            TRAD/ARR A L Freeman

As near as I can tell the General Taylor referred to in this song is President Zachary Taylor, Old Rough and Ready.  Taylor seems to have been a very popular fellow, so I now question the addition of the ìsticks and rocksî verse which Charlie Ipcar (Roll & Go) poached from another song and I misremembered into its current form.

7.         Tis Our Sailing Time  for beginning a journey

            Mervyn Vincent.  Originally titled The Farewell Shanty

            Wedding adaptation by A L Freeman

Roll & Go sang this song at the wedding of one of our members.  When my father and stepmother got married I made a few modifications to the verses to emphasize the theme of setting out on a new journey with a partner as opposed to setting out on a final journey.  I promised them I would record the song for them then made them come to the studio and sing along!

8.         Martin Said a Drinking song

            TRAD/ARR A L Freeman with additional verses by A L Freeman and Kelsey Byers

Not a chantey but, I am also very fond of drinking songs and I could not resist.  I set Kelsey to the task of making up additional verses (sun, wave, & kid) one day when we were out walking.  She is too young to drink, but not too young to learn a good drinking song!  I take full responsibility for the libelous verse regarding Win95.

9.         Rolling Down to Old Maui a Forebitter or Forecastle chantey

            TRAD/ARR A L Freeman

This is another song that I have been singing since my days at the MMM.  Odd that I still cannot pronounce Kamchatka.  It has been suggested that I tell people this is the ancient pronunciation!

10.       The Pump Shanty a Pumping chantey

            Tony Goodenough

            ARR A L FREEMAN

When I sang with Roll & Go this was one of my favorites.  I suspect I like my unusual harmonies more than they did so I was compelled to commemorate my rendition lest the world forget it!  At childrenísí shows Roll & Goís, Brett Burnham would sing ìthe door she slammed and broke my noseî instead of ìthe pox to me she gave a doseî

11.       John Cherokee a Haul the rope grunt, capstan, windlass, or pumping chantey.

            TRAD/ARR Roll & Go and A L Freeman

This song speaks to the diversity found in a shipís crew.  I have never before or since heard the ìughsî voiced as magnificently as Mr. Barrett did for this recording.

12.       Derelict a Broadway show tune

            Allison, Waller, and R L Stevenson

            PD ARR A L Freeman

"Fifteen men on the dead man's chest.  Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!  Drink and the devil had done for the rest.  Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!" is the quatrain from Stevensonís book ìTreasure Islandî.  It was the inspiration for this song which was written in the early 1900s by Allison and Waller for a Broadway musical.  There is a small island near Tortola called Dead Manís Chest which factors in a number of pirate tales.

Alison’s Saab Story - BRMW, BMI, Words by A L Freeman, Music based on the sea chantey Randy Dandy-O

Here’s my SAAB story, it’s sad, but true.  To me way, hey, call for a tow

Gather around, I shall tell it to you.  And to the mechanic my paycheck must go

I was driving the tractor in ’73.  To me way, hey, call for a tow

When the clutch broke, my father blamed me.  And to the mechanic my paycheck must go

I bought a Cadillac Cimarron.  To me way, hey, call for a tow

Stolen and stripped, the insides were gone.  And to the mechanic my paycheck must go

Next a SAAB 900 was mine.  To me way, hey, call for a tow

My favorite repair was the leaky fuel line.  And to the mechanic my paycheck must go

The SAAB 9000 is beautiful car.  To me way, hey, call for a tow

But the repairs, most expensive, by far.  And to the mechanic my paycheck must go

Now I drive a SAAB 93.  To me way, hey, call for a tow

If it breaks down, I can cry “Warranty!”.  And to the mechanic my paycheck won’t go

On I95 I hit a deer.  And the State Police called for a tow

To the deer and my car there was damage severe.  And towards the deductible my paycheck must go

Hanging Johnny - TRAD/ARR A L Freeman with additional verses by A L Freeman

Well they calls me Hangin' Johnny.  Away boys away

They say I hang for money.  And it's hang boys hang

They say I’d hang me mother.  Away boys away

Me sister and me brother.  And it's hang boys hang

They say I’d hang me granny.  Away boys away

That I'd hang the Holy Family.  And it's hang boys hang

A rope, a beam, a ladder.  Away boys away

I’d hang them all together.  And it's hang boys hang

They calls me hanging Johnny.  Away boys away

But I never hung nobody.  And it's hang boys hang

I’d hang all wrong and folly.  Away boys away

And hang to make things jolly.  And it's hang boys hang

I’d hang despair and sorrow.  Away boys away

And hang for peace tomorrow.  And it's hang boys hang

I’d hang stars for me lover.  Away boys away

Hang planets to discover.  And it's hang boys hang

Come hang and sway together.  Away boys away

And hang for better weather.  And it's hang boys hang

They calls me hanging Johnny.  Away boys away

But I never hung nobody.  And it's hang boys hang

Duna - Words by John Masefield, Music by Gordon Bok copyright 1965

When I was a little lad with folly on my lips

Fain was I for journeying all the seas in ships

But I’m weary of the sea wind.  I’m weary off the foam

And the little stars of Duna call me home

When I was a young man before my beard was grey

All to seas and islands I gave my heart away

But now across the southern swell every dawn I hear

The little streams of Duna running clear

The Maid of Amsterdam - TRAD/ARR A L Freeman

In Amsterdam there lived a maid

Mark well what I do say

In Amsterdam there lived a maid

And she was mistress of her trade

I'll go no more a roving with you, fair maid

A roving, a roving since roving's been my ruin

I'll go no more a roving with you, fair maid

I met this fair maid after dark

Mark well what I do say

I met this fair maid after dark

She took me to her favorite park

I'll go no more a roving with you, fair maid

A roving, a roving since roving's been my ruin

I'll go no more a roving with you, fair maid

I put my hand upon her knee

Mark well what I do say

I put my hand upon her knee

Said she "young man, you're rather free"

I'll go no more a roving with you, fair maid

A roving, a roving since roving's been my ruin

I'll go no more a roving with you, fair maid

I put my hand upon her thigh

Mark well what I do say

I put my hand upon her thigh

Said she "young man, you're rather high"

I'll go no more a roving with you, fair maid

A roving, a roving since roving's been my ruin

I'll go no more a roving with you, fair maid

I put my hand around her waist

Mark well what I do say

I put my hand around her waist

Said she "young man, you're in great haste"

I'll go no more a roving with you, fair maid

A roving, a roving since roving's been my ruin

I'll go no more a roving with you, fair maid

And when I kissed her on the mouth

Mark well what I do say

And when I kissed her on the mouth

She asked if I'd go farther south

I'll go no more a roving with you, fair maid

A roving, a roving since roving's been my ruin

I'll go no more a roving with you, fair maid

We sat down on a grassy patch

Mark well what I do say

We sat down on a grassy patch

And I held such a ruddy lass

I'll go no more a roving with you, fair maid

A roving, a roving since roving's been my ruin

I'll go no more a roving with you, fair maid

And when I got back home from sea

Mark well what I do say

And when I got back home from sea

A whaler had her on his knee

I'll go no more a roving with you, fair maid

A roving, a roving since roving's been my ruin

I'll go no more a roving with you, fair maid

Blood Red Roses - TRAD/ARR Roll & Go who got the idea from Richard and Mimi Farina

Me bonny bunch of roses, oh!  Go down, you blood-red roses--Go down

It's time for us to roll and go!  Go down, you blood-red roses--Go down

Oooh, you pinks and posies.  Go down, you blood-red roses--Go down

We're outward bound for Iquique Bay!  Go down, you blood-red roses--Go down

We're bound away at the break of day!  Go down, you blood-red roses--Go down

Oooh, you pinks and posies.  Go down, you blood-red roses--Go down

We're bound away around Cape Horn!  Go down, you blood-red roses--Go down

We wish to hell we'd never been born!  Go down, you blood-red roses--Go down

Oooh, you pinks and posies.  Go down, you blood-red roses--Go down

It's growl ye may, but go ye must!  Go down, you blood-red roses--Go down

You growl too hard yer head they'll bust!  Go down, you blood-red roses--Go down

Oooh, you pinks and posies.  Go down, you blood-red roses--Go down

Oh, rock and shake her is the cry!  Go down, you blood-red roses--Go down

The bleedin' topm'st sheave is dry!  Go down, you blood-red roses--Go down

Oooh, you pinks and posies.  Go down, you blood-red roses--Go down

Now one more pull and that will do!  Go down, you blood-red roses--Go down

For we're the lads to kick her through!  Go down, you blood-red roses--Go down

Oooh, you pinks and posies.  Go down, you blood-red roses--Go down

General Taylor - TRAD/ARR A L Freeman

General Taylor gained the day

Walk him along, John, carry him along

General Taylor he gained the day

Carry him to his burying ground

To me way hey, stormy.  Walk him along, John, carry him along

To me way hey, stormy.  Carry him to his burying ground

We’ll dig his grave with a silver spade

Walk him along, John, carry him along

His shroud of finest silk will be made

Carry him to his burying ground

To me way hey, stormy.  Walk him along, John, carry him along

To me way hey, stormy.  Carry him to his burying ground

We’ll lower him down on a golden chain

Walk him along, John, carry him along

On every inch we’ll carve his name

Carry him to his burying ground

To me way hey, stormy.  Walk him along, John, carry him along

To me way hey, stormy.  Carry him to his burying ground

Into his grave we will throw sticks and rocks

Walk him along, John, carry him along

And we don’t give a damn if we break the box

Carry him to his burying ground

To me way hey, stormy.  Walk him along, John, carry him along

To me way hey, stormy.  Carry him to his burying ground

General Taylor he died long ago

Walk him along, John, carry him along

He's gone where the stormy winds won’t blow

Carry him to his burying ground

To me way hey, stormy.  Walk him along, John, carry him along

To me way hey, stormy.  Carry him to his burying ground

General Taylor he’s dead and he’s gone

Walk him along, John, carry him along

Well General Taylor he’s long dead and gone

Carry him to his burying ground

To me way hey, stormy.  Walk him along, John, carry him along

To me way hey, stormy.  Carry him to his burying ground

Tis our Sailing Time - Mervyn Vincent.  Originally titled The Farewell Shanty, Wedding adaptation by A L Freeman

It is time to sail now, heave away the anchor

Heave away the anchor, tis our sailing time

And our days begin now, haul away together

Haul away together, ever side by side

Chart a course together, heave away the anchor

Heave away the anchor, tis our sailing time

We shall work together, heave away the anchor

Heave away the anchor, tis our sailing time

Feel the seas run under, sail away down river

Sail away down river, on the evening tide

We set sail together, heave away the anchor

Heave away the anchor, tis our sailing time

Martin Said - TRAD/ARR A L Freeman with additional verses by A L Freeman and Kelsey Byers

Martin Said to his Man or Who’s the Fool Now

Martin said to his man, fie, man, fie

Martin said to his man, who’s the fool now

Martin said to his man, fill thou the cup and I the can

Thou hast well drunken man, who’s the fool now

I saw the mouse chase the cat, fie, man, fie

I saw the mouse chase the cat, who’s the fool now

I saw the mouse chase the cat, saw the cheese eat the rat

Thou hast well drunken man, who’s the fool now

I saw a butterfly flutter by, fie, man, fie

I saw a butterfly flutter by, who’s the fool now

I saw a butterfly flutter by, saw dragonfly drink a flagon dry

Thou hast well drunken man, who’s the fool now

I saw a wave fear the shore, fie, man, fie

I saw a wave fear the shore, who’s the fool now

I saw a wave fear the shore, it pulled back at the rower’s oar

Thou hast well drunken man, who’s the fool now

I saw the sun set at dawn, fie, man, fie

I saw the sun set at dawn, who’s the fool now

I saw the sun set at dawn, when the singer put her nightcap on

Thou hast well drunken man, who’s the fool now

I saw a woman bear a kid, fie, man, fie

I saw a woman bear a kid, who’s the fool now

I saw a woman bear a kid, the cloven hooves were quite well hid

Thou hast well drunken man, who’s the fool now

I saw a maid milk a bull, fie, man, fie

I saw a maid milk a bull, who’s the fool now

I saw a maid milk a bull, with every stroke a bucketful

Thou hast well drunken man, who’s the fool now

I saw Windows95 run on 8 megs of RAM, fie, man, fie

I saw Windows95 run on 8 megs of RAM, who’s the fool now

I saw Windows95 run on 8 megs of RAM, it ran like a crippled horse in wet sand

Thou hast well drunken man, who’s the fool now

I’d rather have a bottle in front of me, fie, man, fie

I’d rather have a bottle in front of me, who’s the fool now

I’d rather have a bottle in front of me, than have a frontal lobotomy

Thou hast well drunken man, who’s the fool now

Rolling Down to old Maui - TRAD/ARR A L Freeman

It's a damned tough life, full of toil and strife we whalermen undergo

And we don't give a damn when the gale has stopped how hard the wind did blow

We're homeward bound! 'Tis a grand old sound on a good ship taut and free

And we don't give a damn when we drink our rum with the girls on old Maui

Once more we sail with a northerly gale through the ice and sleet and rain

And them coconut fronds in them tropic lands we soon shall see again

Six hellish months we've passed away in the cold Kamchatka sea

And now we're bound from the arctic ground, rolling down to old Maui

Rolling down to old Maui, my boys, Rolling down to old Maui

We're homeward bound from the arctic ground.  Rolling home to old Maui

We'll heave the lead where old Diamondhead looms up on old Wahoo

Our mast and yards are sheathed with ice and our decks are hid from view

The horrid tiles of the sea-cut ice that deck the Arctic Sea

Are miles behind in the frozen wind since we steered for old Maui

How soft the breeze of the tropic seas now the ice is far astern

And them native maids in them island glades are awaiting our return

Even now their big black eyes look out hoping some fine day to see

Our baggy sails running 'fore the gales rolling down to old Maui

Rolling down to old Maui, my boys, Rolling down to old Maui

We're homeward bound from the arctic ground.  Rolling home to old Maui

And now we sail with a favoring gale towards our island home

Our mainmast sprung, our whaling done, and we ain't got far to roam

Our stuns'l booms are carried away what care we for that sound?

A living gale is after us, thank God we're homeward bound!

And now we're anchored in the bay with the Kanakas all around

With chants and soft alohaoes they greet us homeward bound

And now ashore we'll have good fun we'll paint them beaches red

Awaking in the arms of a wahine with a big fat aching head

Rolling down to old Maui, my boys, Rolling down to old Maui

We're homeward bound from the arctic ground.  Rolling home to old Maui

Pump Shanty - Tony Goodenough, ARR A L FREEMAN

They say life has its ups and downs

That really now is quite profound

I'd like to push the capstan round

But it's pump me boys before we drown

Pump me boys, pump 'er dry

Down to hell and up to the sky

Bend your back and break your bones

We're just a thousand miles from home

The ocean we all do adore

So come on lads let's pump some more

Don't worry if you're stiff and sore

I'm sure we've pumped this bit before

The captain's daughter, I suppose

Could be called an English Rose

What would you think if I propose

The pox she gave to me a dose

This Rose well she did prick me sore

I've never felt so bad before

Thanks to the girl I do adore

I thought I'd never pump no more

I called the doctor right away

To find out what he had to say

"That's two pounds ten - get on your way"

I'm sure the girl is in his pay

Sometimes while lyin' in me bed

And thinking of me day ahead

I wish that I could wake up dead

But pumping's all I get instead

Yes, how I wish that I could die

The swine who built this tub to find

I'd drag him back from where he fries

To pump until the beggar's dry

If Noah used him for his ark

Oh wouldn't that have been a lark?

From rising sun 'til getting dark

The animals all hard at work

John Cherokee - TRAD/ARR Roll & Go and A L Freeman

This is the tale of John Cherokee

Alabama John Cherokee

An Indian man from Maramoshee

Alabama John Cherokee way-oh, uh

Alabama John Cherokee way-oh, uh.  Alabama John

They made him a slave down in Alabam

Alabama John Cherokee

He run away every chance he can

Alabama John Cherokee way-oh, uh

Alabama John Cherokee way-oh, uh.  Alabama John

They catched him and they bound him tight

Alabama John Cherokee

Down in the hold without any light

Alabama John Cherokee way-oh, uh

Alabama John Cherokee way-oh, uh.  Alabama John

Kept him without any food or drink

Alabama John Cherokee

Until his bones they began to clink

Alabama John Cherokee way-oh, uh

Alabama John Cherokee way-oh, uh.  Alabama John

Nothing to drink and nothing to eat

Alabama John Cherokee

He fell down dead at the boss’s feet

Alabama John Cherokee way-oh, uh

Alabama John Cherokee way-oh, uh.  Alabama John

And now his ghost it can be seen

Alabama John Cherokee

Around the deckhouse, all wet and green

Alabama John Cherokee way-oh, uh

Alabama John Cherokee way-oh, uh.  Alabama John

Derelict - Allison, Waller, and R L Stevenson, PD ARR A L Freeman

Fifteen men on a dead man's chest, Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

Drink and the devil had done for the rest, Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

The mate was 'fixed by the bosun's pike, The bosun brained by a marlinspike

And Cookie's throat was marked belike, It had been gripped by fingers ten

And there they lay all good dead men, Like break of day in a boozing ken

Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

Fifteen men of a whole ship's list, Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

Dead and be damned and the rest gone whist, Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

The skipper lay with his nob in gore, Where the scullion's axe his cheek had shorn

And the scullion he was stabbed times four, And there they lay and the soggy skies

Dripped all day long in up staring eyes, In murk sunset and at foul sunrise

Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

Fifteen men of 'em stiff and stark, Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

Ten of the crew had the murder mark, Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

Twas a cutlas swipe or an once of lead, Or a yawning hole in a battered head

And the scuppers glut with a rotting red, And there they lay, aye, damn my eyes

All sight fixed up on Paradise, All souls bound just contrariwise

Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

Fifteen men of 'em good and true, Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

Every man jack could have sailed with old Pew, Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

There was chest on chest of Spanish gold, And a ton of plate in the middle hold

And the cabins riot of stuff untold, And there they lay that had took the plum

With sightless eyes and their lips struck dumb, while we shared all by the rule of thumb

Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

More was seen through the stern light screen, Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

Chartings, no doubt, where a woman had been, Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

'Twas a flimsy shift on a bunker cot, With a dirk slit sheer through the bosom spot

And the lace stiff dry in a purplish blot, Oh was she wench or was she maid

That dared the knife and took the blade.  By God!  She had the stuff for a plucky jade

Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

Fifteen men on a dead man's chest, Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

Drink and the devil had done with the rest, Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

We wrapped 'em up in a mains'l tight, With twice ten turns of a hawser's bight

And heaved 'em over and out of sight, With a "Yo Heave Ho!" and a "Fare you well!"

And a sudden plunge in a sullen swell, Ten fathoms deep on the road to hell

Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum