Tag Archives: charlotte alington barnard

Come Back to Erin

I was thrilled to receive another musical submission this week. Paul O’Regan, making music under the name RavenConspiracy, has remixed and reinterpreted a song called ‘Come Back to Erin’, using samples from a hundred year old recording. I asked Paul to write something about what he’s done, so here’s Paul explaining it in his own words.

I chose this song because it I wanted to work with something that connects to Ireland. Although written before 1914, the lyrics of the song could easily be transmuted to a wife or partner waiting at home for a husband or loved one who had joined the British Army in WWI. This version of the song was recorded around 1914 so I thought it would fit in nicely with the centenary of WWI.

Not being a musician in the traditional sense and with no singing voice to speak of I embarked on creating an electronic track using this original recording as a core component. To that end, many of the sounds in my track are sampled from the original. These samples were then sliced, edited and effects added to form various hits, melodies and vocal pieces within the track. After the arrangement was down, I then set about adding automation to effects such as filters, delays, distortion etc. I used a combination of automation envelopes and real-time automation recoding (such as the filter sweeps in the bassline).

The interesting thing about the song ‘Come Back to Erin Mavourneen’ is that it was written by an English balladeer Charlotte Alington Pye Barnard around 1868. The song became synonymous with Ireland for obvious reasons but like ‘It’s A Long Way to Tipperary’ it was not written by an Irish person.

Well done to Paul. It’s great to hear something so unexpected, such radical and imaginative reinterpretation of the source material. I’ve found a nice version of the original sound recording Paul used, and it doesn’t immediately make you think of EDM. I’m really pleased that the enthusiasm for this project is crossing traditional boundaries and mixing disparate genres. If you like what you hear on this track, I recommend you check out RavenConspiracy on Soundcloud.

As Paul said, the song was written by Charlotte Alington Pye Barnard in the 1860s. This English composer, poet and balladeer – who wrote under the pseudonym ‘Claribel’ – also wrote I Cannot Sing The Old Songs, which I covered myself for this project a few months ago.

This version of ‘Come Back to Erin’ on YouTube features an original Edison Blue Amberol cylinder being played on a working cylinder player. Here it was sung by Orville Harrold. A short film made in 1914 by Sidney Olcott also used the name ‘Come Back to Erin’. Olcott was a Canadian-born filmmaker of Irish descent who made several movies in Ireland in the 1910s. According to his Wikipedia page, only the outbreak of World War I prevented him from building a permanent studio in Beaufort, County Kerry. You can watch the entire film on YouTube.

Many thanks to Paul O’Regan again, for a wonderfully different interpretation of a beautiful old song.

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Creation vs Destruction

Creation vs Destruction

‘I Cannot Sing the Old Songs’
sung by Richard José in 1905. The 1914 version by Louise Homer unfortunately can’t be embedded in WordPress.

So far, every musician I’ve talked to has been very positive about the idea of reinterpreting archived material. But I’ve received zero submissions so far (apart from this one on this blog post, which was great). To be perfectly honest, I haven’t been as dynamic and forthright about promoting this idea as I could have been. I’ve been absorbed in my studies, and of course in the other areas of this project – listening to archived music, researching the people who wrote and performed it, and recording new versions of some of the songs I’ve stumbled across so far. The idea behind this blog, musicians, is that you can make something really creative and worthwhile by digging in the archives and finding any song recorded or published in 1914 that you like enough to learn, perform, arrange and record. Maybe you just want to sing it to the camera on your computer. Or maybe you want to record a video of a choral group in a cathedral performing a song you’ve found for them (if I don’t do that first). Maybe you’ll have your own imaginative ideas. There are many music archive resources available online, and a Music Resources section on this blog. You can do it in your own style, and put your own spin on it. Then you could write something about the experience, or any historical context you found interesting, or just your thoughts on the song.

In order to demonstrate to you that this idea has potential, I’ve done two different versions of an old song. I found it on the National Jukebox website, as sung by Louise Homer in 1914. The song predates that by some time since its writer and composer, Claribel, died in 1869. ‘Claribel’ was the pseudonym of Charlotte Alington Barnard, an English poet and composer of ballads and hymns. ‘I Cannot Sing the Old Songs’ couldn’t be a more fitting song for this project.

I Cannot Sing the Old Songs (Traditional Arrangement)

Initially I recorded a pretty minimal piano version, quite faithful to the original, then I added an organ and some harmonies. I came back to it a week later and some subversive impulse compelled me to put a slightly discordant bluesy guitar line over the last verse. I kept remixing the song, changing my mind back and forth as to whether to keep the electric guitar. Hearing the subversive melody so often, I started to sing along with it. Eventually another subversive idea occurred to me – to re-record the song using this as the vocal melody, with minor chords and heavy distortion. I have a bit of a history with this kind of thing. I used to do a minor version of Amazing Grace with my band. And I uploaded Minor Silent Night with new lyrics to YouTube on Christmas Eve a few years back. I’ve also written new music for Shakespearean poetry, perhaps his first foray into synth-rock. Some may see this as sacrilege. But I think reinterpretation helps to keep art alive. That’s valid even if you don’t happen to like what I’ve done with it.

Of course, musical taste is a hugely subjective thing. I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently. When I deconstruct a song and put it back together in my own style, it’s as much an act of destruction as it is a creative act. The listener’s personal taste determines my guilt or innocence. Have I befouled a sacred piece of art? Or have I reinvented and reinvigorated it? There are enough opinions out there for both views to be perfectly valid. These thoughts of individual aesthetic preferences, of creation and destruction, informed my new mix of ‘I Cannot Sing the Old Songs’.

I Cannot Sing the Old Songs (Creation vs Destruction Mix)

I went for heavy distortion and heavy emotion, encoded and compressed with destructive algorithms, ready for this digital realm of infinite distraction. I’ve been studying Audio Processing this term, and I’m kind of shocked to get down to the nuts and bolts of just how destructive these audio codecs are, especially the MP3. My immediate reaction to it, as evidenced by this mix, has been to process every signal with distortion and other effects, so there’s no acoustic fidelity left for the codec to destroy. Instead I tried to make the digital seem visceral, keeping it decidedly lo-fi, awash with feedback and noise – evoking the hiss and fuzz of my teenage practice rooms half a lifetime ago, which in turn tied me in to the theme of the song and its emotional core. I think my emotional response to the material is evident in my vocal performance (or what’s left of it with all that distortion).

Hundred Years Late on Bandcamp

The image I used for the cover is in the public domain and attribution details are included in a post entitled Designing Hundred Years Late. You can also click the image above to check out Hundred Years Late on Bandcamp, a wonderful website that facilitates musicians in the sharing of their work. I hope to upload many more songs in the coming months.

It’s a very different approach from the one I took to all the 1914 songs I’ve recorded so far. I had been keeping it to bass / drums / piano / vocals, with occasional organ, guitar and ukulele. This song sounds like a spaceship landed in the playlist. It’s brash, obnoxious, incongruous, subversive. And like the guitar line that spawned it, I’m still ambivalent about whether it belongs there, whether it is in fact creativity or a manifestation of a darkly destructive impulse. As I trace the map of ideas and influences back through my own thoughts, of all the things that fed into this reinterpretation, objectivity becomes impossible. I’m never entirely sure my own subversive aesthetic preferences will resonate with other people. I’ll continue to vacillate, I expect, and I’ll keep working on writing a masters thesis that gets to the bottom of these and other questions. For now, there’s these songs, this project, this open call to musicians. Like it or not, you’ve got to admit you didn’t expect this from a ballad written in the 1800s. Musicians, are you starting to see the potential here?