Three Tune Tuesday Week 76 - A new 3 song set.

Hi Everyone

I finally found 3 new tunes to make a new set for week 76 of @ablaze Three Tune Tuesday.

The first song is Bob Marley's "Redemption Song". I was going to play this one for this weeks open mic theme of "Fight Oppression" but I figured at least one other person would play that tune so I decided to take a shot at "Exodus" for this weeks open mic.

I was still curious to see if I could do a decent version of "Redemption song" so I thought why not use it as the first song in a TTT set?

Hopefully you guys enjoy my version of this classic Bob Marley tune.

"Redemption Song"
Bob Marley

Old pirates, yes they rob I
Sold I to the merchant ships
Minutes after they took I
From the bottomless pit

But my hand was made strong
By the hand of the almighty
We forward in this generation
Triumphantly

Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom?
'Cause all I ever have
Redemption songs
Redemption songs

Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery
None but ourselves can free our minds
Have no fear for atomic energy
'Cause none of them can stop the time

How long shall they kill our prophets
While we stand aside and look?
Ooh, some say it's just a part of it
We've got to fulfill the book

Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom?
'Cause all I ever have
Redemption songs
Redemption songs

Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery
None but ourselves can free our mind
Whoa, have no fear for atomic energy
'Cause none of them-a can-a stop-a the time

How long shall they kill our prophets
While we stand aside and look?
Yes, some say it's just a part of it
We've got to fulfill the book

Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom?
'Cause all I ever had
Redemption songs
Redemption songs
These songs of freedom
Songs of freedom

The next song in this set is another song I was inspired to learn from watching old Liam Clancy and Tommy Makem concerts.

The song is called "Paddy Kelly's Brew" and like a lot of these old tunes it tells the story of a legendary moonshiner living out in the mountains brewing up his bootleg booze.

"Paddy Kelly's Brew"

Paddy Kelly is my name, making moonshine is my game
And I live away up there behind the hill
I can make a drop that's pure and there's nothing it won't cure
It surpasses any medicine or pill

For it tastes as sweet as honey as it trickles down your throat
It looks as clear and pure as morning dew
It can make a fellow sing though he didn't have a note
Won't you try a drop of Paddy Kelly's Brew

It can cure your rheumatism, it can cure a wheezy chest
It can cure you of the gout and gallstones too
It cures toothache, headache, backache, falling hair and all the rest
Fallen arches, corns and bunions and the flu

For it tastes as sweet as honey as it trickles down your throat
It looks as clear and pure as morning dew
It can make a fellow sing though he didn't have a note
Won't you try a drop of Paddy Kelly's Brew

Any summer day you'll find be poaching salmon in the glen
Or setting snares for rabbits on the hill
But the nicest thing of all is when evening shadows fall
Just to watch the bottles filling from my still

For it tastes as sweet as honey as it trickles down your throat
It looks as clear and pure as morning dew
It can make a fellow sing though he didn't have a note
Won't you try a drop of Paddy Kelly's Brew

I've a pound or two to spend, I've a bottle for a friend
I've got customers galore who buy my brew
At a wedding or a wake, I supply the stuff they take
And I keep a good supply the whole year through

For it tastes as sweet as honey as it trickles down your throat
It looks as clear and pure as morning dew
It can make a fellow sing though he didn't have a note
Won't you try a drop of Paddy Kelly's Brew

Now, I know you will confess that the world is in a mess
And the politicians don't know what to do
I'll supply them with a plan that will cure the ills of man
Throw away the guns and hand out Kelly's Brew

For it tastes as sweet as honey as it trickles down your throat
It looks as clear and pure as morning dew
It can make a fellow sing though he didn't have a note
Won't you try a drop of Paddy Kelly's Brew

The last song in this set is called "The Mountains Of Mourne" which was written by an Irish musician named Percy French in 1896. The Mourne Mountains are a mountain range in County Down, Northern Ireland. The song describes life in London in the late 19th century from the point of view an emigrant labourer from a village near the Mourne Mountains.

I found this version by a Scottish folk musician named Jim Brannigan whom up until today I had never heard of. I choose this one for the wonderful old photographs the video is edited to which help paint a picture of life during the time the song was written.

Jim Brannigan's version has the 3rd and 4th verse in a different order than mine. I took my inspiration for swapping these verse's from the Don McLean version .However after hearing this wonderful rendition I think I might play them the original way in the future.

I guess you guys can let me know which order you think the 3rd and 4th verses work best in.

"The Mountains o' Mourne"
by Percy French (1896)

Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful sight,
With people all working by day and by night.
Sure, they don't sow potatoes, nor barley, nor wheat,
But there's gangs of them digging for gold in the street.

At least when I asked them that's what I was told,
So I just took a hand at this digging for gold,
But for all that I found there I might as well be
Where the Mountains o' Mourne sweep down to the sea.

I believe that when writing a wish you expressed
As to how the fine ladies in London are dressed,
Well if you'll believe me, when asked to a ball,
They don't wear no top to their dresses at all.

Oh I've seen them meself and you could not in truth,
Tell whether their bound for the ball or the bath.
Don't be starting such fashions, now, Mary, Macree
Where the Mountains o' Mourne sweep down to the sea.

There's beautiful girls here, oh, never you mind,
With beautiful shapes nature never designed,
And lovely complexions all roses and cream,
But let me remark with regard to the same

That if of those roses you ventured to sip,
The colours might all come away on your lip,
So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waiting for me
Where the Mountains o' Mourne sweep down to the sea.

You remember young Peter O'Loughlin, of course,
Well, now he is here at the head of the Force.
I met him today, I was crossing the Strand,
And he stopped the whole street with a wave of his hand.

And as we stood talkin' of days that are gone,
The whole population of London looked on.
But for all his great powers he's wishful like me,
To be back where the dark Mournes sweep down to the sea.

But for all his great powers he's wishful like me,
To be back where the dark Mournes sweep down to the sea.