Bardic Circle Featuring Izolda...
Homesick For A Memory
(by Izolda)
Audience Count: 7,735
  The Story...
This song was inspired by a couple of different sources. First, my dear friend Amy said that she'd like to hear me sing something slow and Irish. And so I decided to write a slow song about Ireland. Ireland has always felt like my home; the only thing is that I've never actually been there.
The music found a home in my heart the first time I heard an Irish fiddle tune. I've always wanted to go to Ireland and haven't yet had a chance and so I've found myself being homesick for a place I've never been. In essence I'm homesick for a memory.
Recorded: the Swannanoa Gathering
Guests/Players: Vocals, guitar: Izolda.
Technical Notes: "vocals, guitar"
Artist Profile: Folk Nouveau is music that combines the story-telling and instrumentation elements of folk music with the reverence for nature of the Art Nouveau movement.
It is an earth-centered fusion of jazz, classical, folk, eastern european and middle-eastern influences. I believe in the transformative and magical power of music, and I strive to bring that across in both my lyrics and my melodies. There is incredible beauty, I think, in notes or words that are strung together to sound just right, and when it happens, it's magic.
Some of the songs here are: "Sound The Deep Waters, " (a treatise on what it is the "Gentle Folk" do at night while we're sleeping) "Sun-warmed, " (picture a midsummer's day where you spend time on the beach dancing on sun-warmed rocks honoring the earth and the old ways), and "Homesick For A Memory, " (an homage to the land of my heart, Ireland).
Website: http://www.folknouveau.com
Email: izolda@folknouveau.com
LINK to the mp3 File: Click HERE
|
Homesick For A Memory
(words & music by Izolda)
In my dreams, I see your green hills and your moonlit meadows
Castles in the mist, waves crash onto distant shores
In my blood, I feel the sweet sound of your music singing
Fiddles play your history, dryads dance in shade of trees
And in the end I see
I'm homesick for a memory
Of a place of stone and grace
A wil o' wisp that leaves a trace of love
With my hands, I know your rich earth and your fragrant flowers
Rain-enchated cliffs, a lass on shore with windswept hair
With my hope, I nourish wishes and a traveller's journey
Speaking ancient rhyme, we run where sea meets sky
And in the end I see
I'm homesick for a memory
Of a place of stone and grace
A wil o' wisp that leaves a trace of love
copyright 1998 Izolda
|
