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Reflections on War

by Gary Miller

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Comes in a gorgeous digipak with a highly attractive 16-page full colour booklet including lyrics to all songs, beautiful individual full-colour track artwork (original paintings, drawings and sketches) and photos courtesy of York Museums Trust, individual track descriptions, CD liner notes by Gary Miller and Gaby Lees (York Art Gallery), photographs from the recording sessions featuring each individual session artist, photographs from the York Art Gallery workshop sessions, credits, etc.

    Includes FREE Postage for a limited time.

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    Includes unlimited streaming of Reflections on War via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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    ships out within 7 days

      £6.99 GBP

     

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      £6.99 GBP

     

1.
TWA SCOTS SOLDIERS Twa Scots soldiers enlisted fae France Spurred on by Kitchener to take their chance Against the Kaiser with a screech and a yell And make him afraid o’ the Ladies From Hell Dressed in khaki kilts and a fine pair of spats Standing in line like real cool cats Glengarry on each heid and a gun in each fist What possessed these twa canny lads to enlist? From Mons to Ypres all the way through the Somme Would they be left standing when their mates are all gone To look back and wonder how they ever returned hame Or will they no’ come back again? Twa sweethearts did they leave behind To worry themselves nearly out of their minds? “Dinnae fret me hinny just bide yer time For we’ll both be back by Christmastime” “Oh laddies ye dinnae ken the danger that ye’re in Before ye’ve grown accustomed to the smoke and the din O’ the rattle o’ machineguns and the whiz-bangs crashing loud They’ll be wrapping yer wee bodies up in a shroud” From Mons to Ypres… One looks down and examines his gun Will it keep him alive until the War is won? The other stares ahead wi’ a pipe in his teeth A young-old face, what thoughts lie beneath? Is he thinking o’ his hame in the hills and glen? Daydreaming o’ adventure wi’ the rest o’ the men? Is he lost in premonition o’ the horrors ahead? Does his spirit hear the pibroch sounding for the dead? From Mons to Ypres… (Gary Miller)
2.
BOLD AS BRASS Sat in your uniform looking real class Striking a pose as bold as brass You played a mean cornet in a military band The finest sound in all of the land The girls all adored you; it was always a lark When the band came to play in Battersea Park Polished and smart, a mighty fine gang All for one, one for all, when the instruments sang So blow on your cornet, blow it loud and proud When the band would strike up, what a heavenly sound An old photograph in sepia tones Shows all of the boys in impeccable rows Trombones and euphoniums, marching snares and bass drum Cornets and tuba and a shield proudly won So blow on your cornet,… As the call went out, “there’s a war to be won” Rifles and bayonets replaced cornets and drums Down on the platform there was not a dry eye
As they wished you luck as they waved you goodbye An artillery officer astride a fine mount Twice gassed ’midst the carnage, still not out for the count But no longer to blow so bold on your brass With your lungs constricted by the harsh mustard gas So blow on your cornet, blow it loud and proud When the band would strike up, what a heavenly sound And though sweet music fades, its memory flows Are you playing in Heaven now God only knows? As the angels sing when your cornet blows I’ll be blowing your trumpet wherever I go (Gary Miller)
3.
SISTER OF MERCY A kind angel does her rounds As the bombs fall all around Never ceasing, never failing Her young heart pounds So very, very weary, constantly weary Through eyes tired and bleary she smiles She says, "God deems I will survive I thank God that I'm alive To comfort and to strive Where but for the grace of God go I" She calms the sobbing ones Who quake in terror of the bombs Brightened by a good sing-song They pray their nightmare won't last long Just to know that she was there to keep them from despair Their need lends courage to keep her going strong She says, "I live from day to day I see each bombing raid's display As the ack-acks strafe and stray And the casualty list rises every day" Like the Lady of the Lamp, burning bright This Rose of Heaven brings comfort, love and light While underneath the lamplight no nightingale sings In Berkeley Square the sirens sing While a city burns to the ward she returns And the wild-eyed stares of those who need her care She will constantly be there The Sister of Mercy heeds their prayers Hardly time for a cup of tea Oh for a nice cup of tea! In the cover point she sleeps In slumber dead and deep In her uniform she lies for two hours at a time And then it's time to rise and start again Like the Lady of the Lamp, burning bright This Rose of Heaven brings comfort, love and light While underneath the lamplight no nightingale sings In Berkeley Square the sirens sing While a city burns to the ward she returns And the wild-eyed stares of those who need her care She will constantly be there The Sister of Mercy heeds their prayers A kind angel does her rounds As the bombs fall all around Never ceasing, never failing Her young heart pounds While a city burns (Gary Miller)
4.
SOMEWHERE AT THE FRONT, SOMEWHERE Somewhere at the front, somewhere A soldier sits with pad and ink Lampooning all the things that he sees there It might cause a bit of a stink For if the CO learns of it, quicker than a blink He’ll have him cleaning the latrines or even in the clink For it wouldn’t do for Tommy to question or to think Somewhere at the front somewhere Now Tommy has a lot of gripes So to comment on army life He draws cartoons that take almighty swipes Whilst making fun of all his troubles and his strife He’ll grouse about the billets swarming everywhere with rats But it’s far worse in the trenches where they’re as big as cats They’ll empty out your mess tin then fill up your tin hats Somewhere at the front, somewhere There are bits of onion floating in your tea To wash down bully beef or plum and apple jam While the generals sit in chateaux sipping brandy To wash down all their lovely eggs and ham Now two teaspoons of rum just doesn’t seem quite fair To give Tommy the courage he needs for trench warfare What can he do but raise a shrug and shout “C’est la Guerre!” Somewhere at the front, somewhere Exhausted you’re made to stand in line For medical inspections and parades Bellybuttons touching backbones, every one Like skeletons, what specimens we make! The MO walks along the line and grabs you by the balls And squeezes them until you cough, it makes you feel so small We’ll use his balls for marbles so he has no balls at all Somewhere at the front, somewhere Tommy’s work encapsulates the human spirit Over the cruel inhumanity of war It’s got comedy, cynicism, and satire Parody, anger, wistfulness and more You won’t see it in Punch or hear it proclaimed as art But it speaks for every Tommy whoever played his part In every grim fiasco that tore his life apart Somewhere at the front, somewhere (Gary Miller)
5.
Grandpa Mill 05:47
GRANDPA MILL Grandpa Mill, I see you As a short but handsome young man Too young was I to understand The pain and suffering you went through Sitting on your lovely horse Before the mustard gas attacked you Through your long years, what could you do But face it bravely of course I remember many things The short, sharp bark when you laughed The clean white hanky that sponged away the tears But most of all, I recall my love for you Grandpa, dry your eyes Let me take the pain away I never once heard you complain Grandpa, dry your eyes And Grandpa, through the years I recall your winning smile You kept joking all the while Grandpa, through the tears I remember many things… Playing cards on rainy days Then a change upon your face Abject misery mixed with rage Let me take the pain away Now I’m older and you’re gone You fought your battles through the years I never understood your moods then But I do now I remember many things… (Gary Miller)
6.
Battleships 03:04
BATTLESHIPS A brooding menace ’neath ghostly clouds A monstrous image of war Mask-like, cold and inhuman Far from a civilized shore “This is our great navy Britannia rules the waves Sending all our foes to flight Or down into watery graves” Behemoths symbolic of military might A mechanical horror displayed It’s war at a distance, powerful, aggressive A warning sign: “Be afraid” “This is our great navy…” Everything is faded battleship gray The sky is heavy, like lead Ominous, waiting, the Winter Sea A landscape fit for the dead “This is our great navy…” A sense of security, fearless, remorseless So the public feel safe in their homes A show of strength, moving forward, relentless An unstoppable machine heaves and groans “This is our great navy…” (Gary Miller)
7.
A HOSPITAL SHIP AT TOBRUK Reading your memoirs transported me Across the years over Time’s rolling sea Of the salt sea air and its smells I partook As I stood on a hospital ship at Tobruk You gave me a feel for the casualty rate They were shovelling them out in increasing spate Just one theatre of operations on which I did look As I stood on a hospital ship at Tobruk I witnessed the bombardment; I saw the shells burst I tasted the blood; I was choking from thirst I heard a machinegun go rat-a-tat-tat To the beat of your resolute heart “You are real, you’re a woman!” a young laddie cried You became real to me as I read of your trials An angel in white, tending her flock Of wounded on a hospital ship at Tobruk So standing there ’midst the sights and the smells My senses experiencing part of the hell Just a small part of you, I trembled and shook As I stood on a hospital ship at Tobruk Then back to the present safely I stand There is still part of you I can touch with my hand Your cape and your medals, your portrait so fine Gazing out at me out of time (Gary Miller)
8.
Yellow Bird 03:38
YELLOW BIRD Oh what has become of your gentle hands That softly caressed a love so dear? Now chemically stained and rough like sand They caress mute packages of death and fear On the Devil’s Altar behold each shell Swing the mallet; force the powder in Make them ready to deliver a gift from Hell Pray your own luck is in And sing my yellow bird sing Oh what has become of your delicate face That broke the hearts of the boys so dear? So milk-white soft with a porcelain grace Before the boys all marched from here To remember you just as you were Many never to return Before your health was ruined beyond repair And you watched your future burn Sing my yellow bird sing So far from the effect You fight for the cause Steadfast on your alternate frontline For excitement, for the money, or to do your bit Or to live up to the boys To whom you waved goodbye Oh what has become of your beautiful mind? Tell me now how do you view the world? Through the warlike nature of humankind And your own contentment in your dangerous work Do you see the devastation in your dreams? Are you wracked and torn with guilt? Or has your heart grown immune to the nightmare screams Of an innocence that can never be rebuilt? Sing my yellow bird sing For the Barnbow Lassies and the Gretna Girls The Woolwich Arsenal gang aswell And all those munitionettes who fell From England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales To their counterparts on the whole world stage “Grant them O Lord eternal rest And let perpetual light shine upon them” Sing my yellow bird sing Sing of the peace that the dove may bring Take wing my yellow bird take wing Take heart, risk flight, break out of your cage Roam free in the light where wars don’t rage Never worry about a thing And sing my yellow bird sing (Gary Miller)
9.
SOLDIERS OF THE LORD Over ‘No Man’s Land’ march the Ghosts of Agincourt Keeping time with bows in hand as the big guns pound and roar We are unafraid like the brave old knights of yore We are soldiers of the Lord Every side is singing its own battle hymn Whether British, French or German we’ve all put our faith in Him When God is on your side the other side can’t win We are soldiers of the Lord Whether Saint George charging with his sword up in the air Or Joan of Arc with her flaming hair With an angel and a prayer we will not despair We are soldiers of the Lord The pieces are moving; the knights are in the sky The King is in his counting house far behind the lines We are simply pawns, made to do or die We are soldiers of the Lord Whether Saint George charging… The Spirit of War amidst a dazzling light Lifts our hearts and puts our enemies to flight Donkeys bray and we charge with a lion’s might We are soldiers of the Lord Whether Saint George charging… With a need for signs and wonders an urban myth takes wing Behind a choir of angels we sing-a-ling-a-ling Let the Bells of Hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling We are soldiers of the Lord Whether Saint George charging… (Gary Miller)
10.
ONE SOLDIER’S THOUGHTS I just called round to say farewell For they’re sending us soon deep into Hell Where the hot baking sun offers you no respite Until your bones chill to ice in the cold desert night I just want to give you a few of my thoughts Whether or not you think that I ought To be doing my duty and if I should go Well this is my life; it’s all that I know Now don’t be alarmed at this state that I’m in I may have ballooned but in time I’ll be thin They’ve just fattened us up for the trials ahead Like slaughterbound lambs to the abattoir led All those close to me have trials of their own So they mustn’t know this fear that I feel I’ll laugh and I’ll joke and make light of it all And pretend that it just isn’t real I hope there’s enough body armour to spare Those who send us care nothing about our welfare Despite tanks, helicopters and predator drones We’re under-equipped, fed by lies and alone In this war of aggression we’re just pawns in their game Placed on the frontline for death or for blame Human shields, human misery, atrocities galore Do our leaders share my reflections on war? When I come home they might dress me in shorts With no need for shoes when my ticket’s been bought No more like a fool for the last bus to run But knowing that two legs are better than none I seek neither glory nor undying fame Neither medals nor honours so grand Just to return through fate or God’s will if I can Home from Afghanistan So please don’t miss me when I’m gone Pray for us who into this maelstrom are hurled While I dream of those dearest to me And pray for peace in a better world (Gary Miller)

about

'Reflections on War' is the title of Gary Miller's groundbreaking and highly-anticipated 'comeback' album of 2010, following a long-term absence from live performance and recording, due to a long period of illness. Released on Whippet Records (WPTCD22) and produced by award-winning producer, musician, and songwriter Iain Petrie.

“This CD grew out of my involvement in the community arts project ‘Reflections on War’ at York Art Gallery, as part of the Territories Project for York Museums Trust. Assistant Curator of Arts Learning, Gaby Lees asked me to facilitate a series of songwriting and poetry workshops over 6 sessions in April-June 2009. It was my pleasure and privilege to meet and work with a wonderful group of people in developing an exhibition based on war-themed art and memorabilia from the Museum’s collection, aswell as personal stories and recollections on the subject of war. The work created by the participants (a fascinating collection of poems and stories) is collected in two superb books which perfectly supplement this fine exhibition. In addition, I was inspired through the project to create a series of songs of my own, often inspired through direct involvement with the participants themselves. I was particularly interested in focusing on the personal impact of war through its effect on individuals. When the opportunity arose to record some of these songs for this collection, I never imagined at the outset that the results would be made available to be heard outside the small circle of people involved in the original project. The recording project, however, developed and grew and took on a life of its own – and so here are the results for all to hear!”
Gary Miller (from ‘Reflections on War’ CD sleeve notes)


REVIEWS:

"Gary Miller has a distinctive voice which he uses to deliver songs in a very direct manner. On this CD, however, he has experimented with different approaches. These contrasts, combined with varied musical arrangements on each track and Gary’s ability to compose strong melodies, make for a riveting listen... those who seek challenge and intelligence in the music they listen to will, like me, welcome the re-emergence of this unique talent." Joe Grint, Tykes News, UK.

"Lots of actually quite decent songs about soldiers and war with good folk-rockish arrangements." fRoots, UK.

"A very exciting, multi-faceted view of war from Gary Miller. Gary and his brother formed the Whisky Priests and produced many wondrous cds filled with the culture and folk art of the North-East of England. This look at war is equally folky and earthy. But it is also reflective and inspirational - comforting. Great listening with a variety of styles and textures. Highly recommended. The cd is truly inspiring and uplifting and covers the phenomena of war now so much a part of our own experience today. Well worth listening to." Conrad Jay Bladey, Hutman Productions, USA.

"His lyrics are of the same quality as those popular WW1 songs from Scotsman-turned-Aussie Eric Bogle. Musically he is branching out in different directions, there are tracks we're used to from the Priests, but he is also covering new ground... Gary Miller is back on track." Walkin' T, Folkworld, Germany.

"What can I say - The Whisky Priests were one of the great under-rated bands, and Gary is one of the greatest songwriters the UK has ever produced and again, much under-rated. This album is sheer genius. Buy it now." Anders Moskus, iTunes.

credits

released January 1, 2010

All tracks written & composed by Gary Miller, except ‘Battleships’ (lyrics adapted by Gary Miller from a collection of phrases and comments by the ‘Reflections on War’ community arts group).
All tracks: Copyright Control / MCPS/PRS.

Recorded in the Cosmic Egg, on various scattered days between August and November 2009.
Produced, Engineered and mixed by Iain Petrie.
Remastered at Castle Sounds Studio, Pencaitland by Stuart Hamilton on 4th December 2009.

GARY MILLER – vocals, acoustic guitar, mandolin, octave mandolin, percussion.
IAIN PETRIE – electric guitar, bass, drums, keyboards, djembe, percussion, programming, vocals.

Additional Musicians:
ARTHUR CROSS – whistles and backing vocals on ‘Twa Scots Soldiers’.
RACHEL CROSS – fiddle and backing vocals on ‘Twa Scots Soldiers’.
SHEILA CROSS – backing vocals on ‘Twa Scots Soldiers’.
GRAEME KENNEDY – cornet on ‘Bold As Brass’.
ALISTAIR PETRIE – piano and hammond organ on ‘Bold As Brass’, ‘Sister of Mercy’, ‘Somewhere at the Front, Somewhere’, ‘Grandpa Mill’, ‘A Hospital Ship at Tobruk’ and ‘Soldiers of The Lord’.
BARBARA PETRIE – lead vocals on ‘Grandpa Mill’ and harmonies on ‘Bold as Brass’ and ‘Battleships’.
And not forgetting the Veterans of Mons Male Voice Choir for their stirring rendition of ‘Soldiers of The Lord’.

℗ & © 2010 Whippet Records

WPTCD22

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Gary Miller Durham, UK

Gary Miller first rose to international prominence with folk-punk/rock pioneers The Whisky Priests (1985-2002), founded with his twin brother Glenn - “the Joe Strummer and Mick Jones of Folk Music". He now performs as a solo artist and with his new band 'Gary Miller's Big Picture' whose debut album is coming soon. ... more

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