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Tall Tales

by Ringlefinch

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    Comes in an all-cardboard 2-fold wallet, with full-colour booklet containing:
    - notes on all album tracks
    - band photos
    - more pictures from the chimney demolition featured on the front cover of 'Tall Tales'

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1.
I thought I lost her at "Hello", when she said "One for joy, and two for sorrow" She weighed my heart there for a while, then let it fall to join the others in the pile, and she said "Do you think you want to know me? Do you want to map my soul? Then come and crack my spine, and turn the page my dear, And I will swallow you up whole… Cos I read Edward Gorey's gory stories when I was far too young, If I'm an open book, come choose your own adventure – or has the tiger got your tongue?" I said, "There's no surprises here, I always read the last page first And I've got cheat notes in all your margins" – and she said, "Then come, dear reader, do your worst! There's no York Notes to help you now, and you are going in alone, For there are parts of me have not been read before, and here be monsters… Cos I read Edward Gorey's gory stories when I was far too young, If I'm an open book, come choose your own adventure – or has the tiger got your tongue?" "You read Edward Gorey's gory stories when you were far too young If you're an open book, I'll choose my own adventure – and it's only just begun. Come let's read Edward Gorey's gory stories so late into the night, The candles gutter gently up there on the mantle, and softly fade from sight – And I guess we'll be alright." [Lyrics © Andy Logan]
2.
Gregor Macgregor returned to London town Ten years in the Americas, Loch Lomond skin tanned golden brown A soldier and adventurer, I heard him often say As he lulled our ears with tales of sweet Poyais Now Poyais was a country on the verge of breaking good With rivers full of gold, fertile fields and exotic wood And they’d made the Scot their Prince, he told us there that day, As he asked us to hie hither to Poyais Up and away! New land, new life! Poyais! They’ll think of us, they’ll say “Luck, she loves the brave!” Heart high, head low! Hold true, hold fast! I know we’ve got some leagues to go, but he will lead the way - The Prince of Poyais! The day that we set sail, my folks all came to see Two strong ships all packed with goods, four hundred heroes, and me - A humble shoesmith late of Fife, and soon enough to be The Royal Cobbler to a whole country… I know, I know, I know, I know, oh hubris is the king of sins I know, I know, I know, I know, can’t trust the sea, can’t trust the winds We’ll claim our fortunes bold, though the storms may huff and puff - Just a shame our Prince couldn’t make it to the docks today somehow to see us off Up and away! New land, new life! Poyais! They’ll think of us, they’ll say “Luck, she loves the brave!” Heart high, head low! Hold true, hold fast! I know we’ve got some leagues to go, but he showed us the way - The Prince of Poyais! The call came down “Land ho!”, and we ran to the side Champing hard to see, hearts hammering, as one man cried “But where are all the fields and trees?” - for it was plain as day There was naught but bog and bugs in all Poyais We had no choice but to settle and stay, our passage was paid one way No gold, to our dismay, and at first we thought there was some mistake But the months starved by, fever set in and we started to die And we came to see Macgregor’s lie… Death and decay! We’ll rot here in Poyais! They’ll think of us, they’ll say “Those fools deserve their graves” Hands high, hearts low, the end is nigh I know The Devil take Gregor Macgregor and his greed - Devil take Poyais! [Lyrics © Andy Logan]
3.
Making It 03:38
We have cut the candle in half We have burnt each half from each end But we’re no closer yet to working this out Let’s just close our eyes, cross our fingers and pretend We’re making it up as we go along We’re faking it til we belong Taking every chance to get it wrong We’re making it up til we make it When we were young we were always getting lost The map was a maze of scribbles and lines We doodled in the margins, and this is the cost Things have got their own bright dumb ideas They don’t quite ever work out for the best But through these hapless years I’ve come to believe Muddling through is the new success We’re making it up as we go along We’re faking it til we belong Taking every chance to get it wrong We’re making it up til we make it We’re making it up as we go along We’re faking it til we belong Taking every chance to get it wrong We’re making it up til we make it We’re making it up as we go along We’re learning to laugh as it all goes wrong If we end up dead or we end up strong We’re making it up til we make it We’re making it up til we make it One of these days... [Lyrics © Andy Logan]
4.
A stray word escapes, like an angry bee It buzzes around, kind of spitefully I bat it away - it settles down to wait Like the days-old fish Going stale On her plate And she said, "I'm full of questions, Questions and sushi, The sushi we made last week." "That's fine," I replied, as her smile broke out wide, "I could tell you were tongue in cheek" The silence unfolds, like a dirty sheet Left over from when we stayed in bed for a week So we fold it up, and we stow it away Such a stress and a fuss For a word Gone astray And she said, "I'm full of questions, Questions and sushi, The sushi we made last week." "That's fine," I replied, as her smile broke out wide, "I could tell you were tongue in cheek, Tongue in cheek" And she said, "I dream in metaphors, Metaphors and 'pataphors, They haunt me when I am weak." "That's fine," I replied, like a ghost by her side "I could tell you were tongue in cheek, Tongue in cheek." [Lyrics © Andy Logan]
5.
A Sunday afternoon in Kentish Town The wind been turning norther for a week I found an empty bench and sat me down And the young man sat beside me turned to speak. ​He said, "I'm wearier than my few years should allow, And the sanctity of my silence is a sham. I know I must get through this all somehow, But days I don't remember who I am." And ​I said, "Hold on tight, try not to let go." ​His hair was wild and matted to his face The sorrow in his eyes cut to the bone His voice, as dry as winter leaves, was that Of a man who reaped more than he had sown. ​I said, "Hold on tight, try not to let go." ​There was something in his voice that chilled me through There was something in his words almost malign There was something in the story that he told That but for luck could easily be mine ​Years gone by and sometimes I still see A matchstick figure in the corner of my eye And now I know that one day he will be Right there sat beside me when I die Saying, "Hold on tight, time now to let go." [Lyrics © Andy Logan]
6.
Ophelia 04:25
Starting in the wrong place We missed the opening line It all moved on without us That's fine The middle was slightly confusing Our metaphors got slightly mixed Whatever went wrong with the ending Can't be fixed Your grief has cold blue fingers Your grief has weeds in its hair Whenever you turn to confront it It’s not there The secret is to keep breathing The secret is to keep breathing The secret is to keep breathing Just let yourself drown [Lyrics © Andy Logan]
7.
Woolpacks 00:34
8.
Gone South 04:13
Tell me why do birds Suddenly disappear Gone in a gust of feathers and dust Every time she draws near, She is a maiden with ice In her smile and in her eyes She gave us goosebumps, chilblains, and such She gave us loving with a northerly touch, yeah Her moods were lovely, dark and deep Her voice was crystal as she sang the world to sleep Let’s go south for the winter Gonna take our chance with the sun She can hang here - Lady Chill Keep an eye on things while we’re gone The final geese cut the sky In a V flicked at me as they fly It's not unfair - the cupboard was bare, and The golden goose made a pukka pie But now we’re left eating crow The taste is bitter I know Kickin' leaves as the summer grieves Pretty soon we'll be kickin' snow We knew she'd freeze us out some day She is as she does, she can't be no other way So let’s go south for the winter Gonna take our chance with the sun She can hang here - Lady Chill Keep an eye on things while we’re gone Let’s go south for the winter Gonna find some sun and make hay She can hang here - Bad Weather Cat’s gonna play while the mice are away Let’s go south for the winter Gonna take our chance with the sun She can hang here - Lady Chill Keep an eye on things while we’re gone Yeah, we’re gone til the summer Gonna head south til we find The days in the sun that we used to live for The days in the sun that we left behind Gonna head south til we leave her behind If you see her, tell her we gone south [Lyrics © Andy Logan]
9.
Come paint our story in dust and in stones Wrap us in cloud as a shroud for our bones Bury me here with my face to the sky Let each morning's dew be the grief in my eye We skip and we stumble, never did learn to fly I don’t burn bridges, I let them decay The rot sets in, it fades gently away No thunder and fireworks scorching the sky Just a vague sense of loss and mumbled goodbye One fumbled toss of the coin - and goodbye So charge up your glass, and drink to the beat, To this one golden moment, fleeting and sweet We’ll nod to the ghosts of our past, and we’ll toast The dust and the stones lying under our feet At this buffet of woe, there’s enough to go round Come pile up your plate, if a plate can be found Eat, make merry, but don't meet the eyes Set deep in the masks that are gathering by Dance through the hollows with barely a sound, Let the dogs take the scraps that fall to the ground So charge up your glass, and drink to the beat, To this one golden moment, fleeting and sweet We’ll nod to the ghosts of our past, and we’ll toast The dust and the stones lying under our feet So charge up your glass, and drink to the beat, To this one golden moment, fleeting and sweet We’ll nod to the ghosts of our past, and we’ll toast The rust and the bones there under our feet The dust and the stones lying under our feet [Lyrics © Andy Logan]
10.
I ache for the touch of your lips, dear But much more for the touch of your whips, dear You can raise welts like nobody else As we dance to the Masochism Tango Let our love be a flame, not an ember Say it's me that you want to dismember Blacken my eye, set fire to my tie As we dance to the Masochism Tango At your command, before you here I stand My heart is in my hand (yeuch), it's here that I must be My heart entreats, just hear those savage beats And go put on your cleats, and come and trample me Your heart is hard as stone or mahogany That's why I'm in such exquisite agony My soul is on fire, it's aflame with desire Which is why I perspire when we tango You caught my nose in your left castanet, love I can feel the pain yet, love Every time I hear drums And I envy the rose that you held in your teeth, love With the thorns underneath, love Sticking into your gums Your eyes cast a spell that bewitches The last time I needed twenty stitches To sew up the gash that you made with your lash As we danced to the Masochism Tango Bash in my brain, and make me scream with pain Then kick me once again and swear we'll never part I know full well I'm underneath your spell So, darling, if you smell something burning, it's my heart Take your cigarette from its holder And burn your initials in my shoulder Fracture my spine and swear that you're mine As we dance to the Masochism Tango [Lyrics © Tom Lehrer]
11.
I built her in the Pennines in the village I called home Thirty foot of English oak, and a polished crystal dome Fifty mile or more from the nearest wave on the nearest shore From the terrible salty carnivores that hunt beneath the foam I built her not for rivers, not for to go to sea For I was raised in mountains, and the mountains keep me free I built her for the night, far away from the crash of the city light To sail the sky as the stars burn bright, that's the life for me! Yo, heave ho! My Pomme de Lune Not quite a boat, nor yet balloon Yo, heave ho! My Pomme de Lune I promise dear, we're leaving soon... Any day now I'll pack my troubles in my old kit bag I’ll set her sails and cast her off, and heave into the black We’ll skim the moon, across the Sea of Serenity we’ll tack Set a course for the dog-star’s nose, and never once look back “Lunatic!” they cried, as the tears stood sharp in my mother’s eyes Lunatic? Yes, I deride the fears that hold them back! Yo, heave ho! My Pomme de Lune Not quite a boat, nor yet balloon Yo, heave ho! My Pomme de Lune I stole the key, we're leaving soon... Yo, heave ho! My Pomme de Lune Strangely like an aerial bassoon Yo, heave ho! My Pomme de Lune Come, we’ll race you to the moon [Lyrics © Andy Logan]
12.
Coldwell Clough I: A River Nearby I never get lost with a river nearby I just follow the water, learned to keep my feet dry There are sudden meanders, there are oxbow lakes But I feel for the current, go wherever it takes I was six years old, high up on the moor My first time dowsing, feet tired and sore Hours since I saw them, since I heard their cries Alone on Kinder, trapped under the sky Was it me, or the willow? Pulling for water or home? I can barely remember, lost between the heather and the loam The hillside beating with every step I took I listened for the water as the mountain shook The things I saw, the treasures I found I hold every colour, I dream every sound They pull me back to them secretly A divining rod for who I used to be Is it me, or the willow? Pulling for water, or home? I can barely remember the heather and the loam The hillside beats with every step I take There's a sudden meander, there's an oxbow lake So I never get lost with a river nearby I feel for the current, and I keep my feet dry There are sudden meanders, there may be oxbow lakes But I listen for the water Listen for the water = = = = = Coldwell Clough II: Halfway Down The Coffin Trail Halfway down the Coffin Trail Nine more miles to go The fog crept in while we looked up And stole the world below We've been climbing on since dawn And each step pulls us back Halfway down the Coffin Trail Halfway down the Coffin Trail Full five fathoms left Til we reach the top of old Mam Tor Bedraggled and bereft No low church bell to knell us home Or raise us up again Halfway down the Coffin Trail Three score years and ten = = = = = Coldwell Clough III: Mam Tor They used to bring the dead Up this track by Hollins Cross to Hope, Four strong backs, and a box of lead - Til the road came through, that lashing cotton rope Who am I to walk in their steps? My burdens and my sadness are mundane And Mam Tor shivers like she is afraid Of an idea both sacred and profane She shrugged off the road like yesterday's shroud And cast it aside on the valley floor below; So they carry their dead up the roof o' the world And I turn off their trail and climb on alone Up Jacob's Ladder, past Edale Cross, to the Mermaid's Pool = = = = = Coldwell Clough IV: Easter Eve At The Mermaid's Pool We got up here just at noon Watched the sun laze across the sky Chasing myth across the moors, Chasing our tails, and any grand old lie Oh it's tempting, I agree - Every river meets the sea; But who would want to sit forever, A stagnant pond clogged with reeds? = = = = = Coldwell Clough V: Kinder Downfall (Instrumental) = = = = = Coldwell Clough VI: Bleaklow Stones Part I Come, take me home To Coldwell Clough and the Bleaklow Stones We'll watch the lights in the valley below As the night pulls down and near Lie and listen to the wind As we nurse hot tea to warm our sins The world drawing in Til there's nobbut us here A star above the trees The fire in the grate that waits at home The candlelight dancing in your eyes… = = = = = Coldwell Clough VII: Mass Trespass Part II (Instrumental) = = = = = Coldwell Clough VIII: Bleaklow Stones Part II Come, take me home To Coldwell Clough and the Bleaklow Stones In my heart I never left, and I never felt more alone Some day I'll return To lay my head and rest my bones In Coldwell Clough and the Bleaklow Stones. [Lyrics © Andy Logan]

about

Four years in the making and entirely self-produced, 'Tall Tales' is the first full-length album from Ringlefinch and has been called “one of the most accomplished debuts we’ve heard in years”. With dark-humoured, wittily introspective lyrics set to upbeat, offbeat earworm tunes and a strong folk-storytelling sensibility, 'Tall Tales' is built around themes of identity, exploring how we all tell ourselves stories of who we are to try and make sense of the world, and how we fit in it. The stories here are rooted in a deep sense of place, of the personal and the universal. This sense of self-determination even extends to the production of the album - the band recorded and mixed it on equipment they built themselves. The album is released on highly regarded boutique record label Folkroom Records.

The cover photos were taken by singer Andy's dad in 1990, when Britain’s most famous steeplejack Fred Dibnah visited their small Peak District village to demolish an old mill chimney. After all, every story has an ending - and more often than not, the most interesting ones are the ones that come tumbling right on down.

credits

released June 25, 2021

Produced, recorded and mixed by Andy Logan at Twenty Trees Audio, London
Mastered by Carl Saff at Saff Mastering, Chicago

Artwork design by Andy Logan. Chimney photos by Will Logan.

Songs by Andy Logan
Music by Ringlefinch
Except:
Edward Gorey's Gory Stories (song by Logan & Briggs)
The Prince of Poyais (song by Logan & Entwistle)
Making It (song by Logan, Briggs & Menzies)
Woolpacks (music by Logan)
Gone South (song by Logan & Briggs)
Dust & Stones (song by Logan, Hunter-Gibbs & Teszke)
The Masochism Tango (song by Tom Lehrer, arrangement by Ringlefinch)
Coldwell Clough VII: Mass Trespass Part II (song by Entwistle)

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Ringlefinch London, UK

A core part of the scene built around boutique label Folkroom Records, London-based alternative folk seven-piece Ringlefinch have been described as "Like Bellowhead before them... just one appearance on ‘Later With’ away from becoming nationwide favourites".

They release debut album 'Tall Tales' on Folkroom Records on 25th June 2021.
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