Amb el bon regust d´haver passat un cap de setmana a Escòcia, celebrant amb tres bons amics precisament del ´74 la nostra entrada enguany als 40, avui Orphans Of Waits recomana un gran disc que es va publicar el setembre d´aquell any (dia exacte incert) i que, si bé es va gravar entre Paris i Los Angeles, es considera l´obra mestra del gran autor de folk nascut a Edinburgh BERT JANSCH
Mai me perdonaré no haver vist mestre Bert en directe quan vaig tenir ocasió de fer- ho en diverses ocasions a Londres a principis de la dècada anterior.
De fet Jansch, en pau descansi, també entra en el capítol de contractacions frustrades del cicle Waiting For Waits, però d´això ja en parlarem el proper 3 de novembre...
Si mai visitau "Edinbra", apart de tastar l ´excel.lent cervessa local Innis & Gunn (gràcies a Xavi Escutia per la recomenació) no dubteu en adquirir algún dels grans discs de Bert Jansch o d´altres autors escocesos que vos puguin recomenar a la maravellosa tenda CODA (especialitzada en música folk i situada a Bank St On The Mound, un dels carrers més espectaculars d´aquesta preciosa ciutat).
A continuació un video del primer tema del nostre quinzé gran disc de 1974, en una versió en directe gravada durant una actuació a Sheffield l´any 2006 (cinc abans de la mort de B. J.):
"Fresh As A Sweet Sunday Morning"
Like a high stepping pony strutting and prancing
Ah she's so full of life
Sparkling with tiny red roses
Let there be music to please her
Let it be sunbright to light up her day
Let the moon light her night
And fill her with deep silent sleepiness
If I were a small bird so tiny
I'd hide in her hair just to be near her
To hear her sweet voice
And feel her sweet body beside me
And if I were a high lord with riches
I'd clothe her in satin from India's far highlands
I would shoe her in gold
Then invite her to sit at my table
Step out young lady a-dancing
To the sound of sweet music so gaily come singing
For your beauty so rare
Is as fresh as a sweet Sunday morning
Ah she's so full of life
Sparkling with tiny red roses
Let there be music to please her
Let it be sunbright to light up her day
Let the moon light her night
And fill her with deep silent sleepiness
If I were a small bird so tiny
I'd hide in her hair just to be near her
To hear her sweet voice
And feel her sweet body beside me
And if I were a high lord with riches
I'd clothe her in satin from India's far highlands
I would shoe her in gold
Then invite her to sit at my table
Step out young lady a-dancing
To the sound of sweet music so gaily come singing
For your beauty so rare
Is as fresh as a sweet Sunday morning
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