Clarity audio.mp3

No. 37 from Hymns Ancient and Modern, arranged by Lizzie Pridmore

Fast Sinks The Sun To Rest

The tale of a remarkable woman from Redruth.

Gracey Briney - Home Demo

Breath.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Deep, long breaths. The bow moves across the strings in long, held notes, sound swelling and then falling, echoing the sensation of air in the lungs. Gradually more notes are added and the chords deepen and change, the cadence revolving slowly with the tension and release of the breath. 

Life.
Then – faint but distinct – a movement, a dance, perhaps a little ungainly at first but growing in strength, supported by the breath. 

Clarity.
As the dance becomes familiar, clear piano notes drop into the texture, becoming more insistent; gradually the chords shift and change, supporting a bright new melody that dances and soars and swoops, diving into a growing swell of strings as all of the different parts come together – breath and life and strength.

Breath.
The music returns to the breath once again, steady, supporting, spacious.

A meditation on the Holy Spirit

Shine - a song for Lowen

Lyrics:

There is a lady dressed in green
Like the Queen of the May
She leads the way
With her fiddle and her bow
Let music flow
As she goes along before us

Strike up the drum and gather round
For the flowers that grow
On stony ground
With a whistle and a grin
Break out the gin
For the friend who goes before us

Song For Jo - Fiddle Tune

Written to commemorate the 10th anniversary of the return of the Cornish chough to the Lizard peninula, and to celebrate the 10th birthday of Cornish fiddle group Bagas Crowd.
Photo by Tony Davies.

The Cliffs At The Lizard - just the tune

Gracey Briney. A stripped back double bass & vocal version of a song I wrote about an extraordinary local character. Here's a summary of her story: https://moreteawithlizzie.wordpress.com/2016/09/27/gracey-briney/

Lyrics:
There was a maid who lived in Redruth in her youth
Until long in the tooth
The neighbours found her rather uncouth
And they called her Gracey Briney

Her hobnail boots and elegant dress cut a dash
With an air of panache
She wore a top hat and a moustache
And they called her Gracey Briney

She fought and she wrestled and drank with the boys
Holding her own in the hubbub and noise
Smoking a pipe with incredible poise
They called her Gracey Briney

A workhouse girl, young Gracey was sent to the mine
And before she was nine
She’d learnt to keep the horses in line
Raising kibble from the mine shaft

A pregnancy, a change of perspective, the sound
Of a girl underground
Where women’s work had never been found
Raising kibble from the mine shaft

She fought and she wrestled…

Gracey Briney

A song for Janette, on her ordination. June 2019.
Thanks Tess @tesslowe for flute, additional vocals, recording & production.

Lizzie Pridmore

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