So I was embarrassingly excited by the fact that Vilja sings The Blacksmith and The Cruel Sister since I’m a huge folk music nerd, and I was thinking about what other songs I could imagine her singing. The idea of Nordic and Dunmeri variations to The Outlandish Knight/The Elf Knight came pretty easily for uh, pretty obvious reasons I think, but also because irl it has such a huge range and number of variations.
(Some more rambling and lyrics for the Dunmer version under the cut)
I think that in the Morrowind and Skyrim variants the action of the song takes place in the Velothi mountains, whereas versions from Solstheim tend to just refer to the sea shore. I think that the versions from Eastmarch and the Blacklight region are considered the ‘standard’ versions, so they’re the ones you’re most likely to hear bards singing, but the further west you go in Skyrim the more likely you are to encounter versions where the knight character is either just some ambiguous figure or a fine Cyrodiilic lord, and on Vvardenfell the knight is often an Ashlander (though in the Ashland version he’s usually a Telvanni)
An outlandish knight came from the northlands And he’s courted a lady fair, He said he would take her to those northern lands, And there he would marry her.
“Go fetch me some of your father’s gold And some of your mother’s fee, And two of the guar from out of the stable Where there stand thirty and three.”
So she’s fetched him some of her father’s gold And some of her mother’s fee, And two of the fine guar from out of the stable Where there stood thirty and three.
She mounted on the milk white steed, And he on the dappled grey, And they rode till they came unto the high hills Three hours before it was day.
“Light off, light off thy milk-white steed And deliver it unto me. For six pretty maidens have I slain here And the seventh will surely be thee.
“Take off, Take off off thy silken clothes, And deliver them unto me; For I do fear that they are too fine To rot along with thee.
“If I must take off my silken clothes Pray turn your back to me. For it is not fitting that such a rogue A naked woman should see.”
So he’s turned his back all on that maid, To view the hills so high. And she caught up his little pen knife And she’s thrust it to his heart.
Well out then came the thick thick blood, And out then came the thin. “Oh spare me my life, my pretty fair maid, And I will make thee my bride.”
“Lie there, lie there you false hearted man, Lie there instead of me. For six pretty maidens have you slain here And the seventh hath surely slain thee.”
She mounted on her milk white steed And she led the dappled grey, And she rode till she came to her father’s house Three hours before it was day.
(I based the lyrics on Nic Jones’ arrangement of The Outlandish Knight)
Alasdair was born in Clackmannan on May 14th, 1955 and began taking classical violin lessons at the age of eight, enduring much teasing and leg-pulling from fellow school pupils at a time when carrying a fiddle case around was considered far from cool. Undeterred, he persevered and found a love of and natural aptitude for the violin which he applied to the Scottish music that he heard at home – his late father, Bob, and his brother, Iain, both being musicians.
In his teens Alasdair played with dance bands and began gathering the compositions of great fiddling forebears including Niel and Nathaniel Gow, William Marshall and James Scott Skinner into a repertoire that is now vast. Twice winner of the Scottish National Fiddle Championship, he also began to notice the connection between speech patterns and musical expression, especially among Gaels and the Doric speaking players in the north-east, and incorporated this into his fiddle style.
Inclined towards science as well as music at school, Alasdair went on to work as a petrophysicist with British Petroleum, a post that took him to California in 1981 and the realisation four years later, while writing out a fiddle tune during office hours, that he was in the wrong job. He decided to concentrate on music and passing on his passion and skills through programmes such as the Valley of the Moon fiddle camp, which he founded among the Californian Redwoods in 1984 and still directs, the fiddle course that he’s run on the Isle of Skye since 1987, and the more recently established Sierra Fiddle Camp, near his home in California.
As a fiddler equally capable of playing haunting Gaelic airs and rumbustious dance tunes and improvising endless variations on traditional themes, Alasdair has worked in a variety of successful partnerships, including his duos with pianist Paul Machlis and guitarist Tony McManus and his acclaimed band Skyedance. He has also guested with The Chieftains, The Waterboys, Itzhak Perlman and Los Angeles Master Chorale, appeared on innumerable broadcasts including A Prairie Home Companion and CBS TV’s Kennedy Center Honors and performed on film soundtracks including The Last of the Mohicans and Titanic. His compositions have featured in works by the Richmond (Virginia) Ballet and Shiftworks Dance Ensemble and his commissions include Fettercairn Suite.
Since 2003 Alasdair has featured in a duo with cellist Natalie Haas, restoring the wee fiddle and big fiddle partnership that flourished in eighteenth century Scotland to contemporary prominence at the cutting edge of tradition-rooted creativity. Their debut album, Fire and Grace, was voted Album of the Year at the Scots Trad Music Awards 2004, adding to Alasdair’s North American Independent Record Distributors award for his Dawn Dance album in 1996, and they continue to thrill audiences internationally with their virtuosic playing, their near-telepathic understanding and the joyful spontaneity and sheer physical presence of their music.
Alasdair posted on his Twitter a few days ago;
“Unusual birthday celebration for me! Last of the Mohicans 30th Anniversary celebration concert in Morganton, NC Can’t wait!!”
I’ve chosen a beautiful tune by Alasdair Fraser, he plays the fiddle and orates a poem by Sorley Maclean, one of Gaeldom’s great poets. Finding The Other Side Of Sorrow is from the concluding line of one of MacLean’s poems, ‘An Cuilithion, The Cuillin’ It has been described as a celebration of the awful strength of those Skye mountains, and the affinity of the Gael with such places. Some of you will have read and listened to other work by The Rasaay poet, most notably Hallaig, with the late Martyn Bennett.
Beyond the lochs of the blood of the children of men, beyond the frailty of plain and the labour of the mountain, beyond hardship, wrong, tyranny, distress, beyond misery, despair, hatred, treachery, beyond guilt and defilement; watchful, heroic, the Cuillin is seen rising on the other side of sorrow.
Happy birthday Scottish folk musician John McCusker.
McCusker was born in Bellshill, 15th May 1973 to an Irish mother who encouraged him to learn to play the whistle and fiddle beginning at age seven. He became a regular in local youth orchestras and ceilidh bands and formed the band Parcel O'Rogues (named from Robert Burns’ Sic a Parcel o’ Rogues in a Nation) with some schoolmates when he was 14. A couple of years later he gave up a place at the Royal Scottish Academy in Glasgow to go on the road with the Battlefield Band.
John has long been renowned for his skill at transcending musical boundaries: striving to keep his music fresh and exciting, never leaving the past behind but always embracing new sonic adventures. As a live and studio guest he has shared stages with Paul Weller, Paolo Nutini, Teenage Fanclub, Graham Coxon and Eddi Reader. Since 2008, he has been a member of Mark Knopfler’s band, playing arenas around the world including a double bill with Bob Dylan at The Hollywood Bowl and 20 nights at the Royal Albert Hall.
John was awarded the coveted BBC Radio 2 Musician of the Year in 2003 and also The Spirit of Scotland Award for music in 1999 and again in 2009. 2016 saw John receive the Good Tradition Award and perform with his band at the BBC Radio 2 Folk Awards at The Royal Albert Hall.
In celebration of his 30th Anniversary as a professional musician he has just announced his delayed Anniversary tour. Joining him will be Ian Carr, Sam Kelly, Helen McCabe & Toby Shaer.. with special guests joining us along the way.
It kicks off in Cardiff on October 16th, Scottish dates are in Galashiels, Stirling and Bearsden in October, then Edinburgh and Inverness in November. A best of album is dur out sometime next year.
It’s bright in the heavens and the wheels are flying Fame and honor never seem to fade The fire’s gone out but the light is never dying Who says I can’t get heavenly aid?
Ain’t talkin’, just walkin’ Carrying a dead man’s shield Heart burnin’, still yearnin’ Walkin’ with a toothache in my heel
Bob Dylan’s epic, apocalyptic ballad “Ain’t Talkin’” is a brilliant look at the history of salvation from the Garden of Eden to the garden tomb. Dylan blends American folk idiom with Biblical narrative. The above verses capture the despair of Jesus’ followers after Good Friday. Dylan also masterfully uses absurd doggerel from the folk tune “Old Dan Tucker” (”died with a toothache in his heel”) to express God’s promise to Eve in Genesis 3:15 (Satan would strike Christ’s heel, but He would crush Satan’s head).
Take a listen to the song–and don’t stop until you get to the last verse!
