The Rabbit (The Orton Yahoos)

A singing article all about a pesky rabbit that found his way into a secret garden with a strange crop… The so called article was originally written by Brian or Bruce Good from the famous Good Brothers, I can’t remember which one of the twins it was so if you know leave word in comments below.

This particular version was recorded by the infamous “Orton Yahoos”; you might remember them from the early eighties with such titles as “Alberta Bound” & “Cocaine Bill”. If you have any stories you want to share about this group it would be great to hear them, in the meantime take a listen to the article at http://musicborders.com/The%20Orton%20Yahoos.htm and click on "The Rabbit".

Posted By: Music Borders

From Russia With More Love

(These are my early impressions of Russia during a visit to the Kremlin, four different Cathedrals; I was deeply touched by the Icon's on display there)

Was that a wordless song from your heart? Or was it just wishful thinking on my part? Was that trust I felt? Could I sense hope as I was consumed by time and space?

Inside those ancient Cathedral walls, perhaps I was host to souls of spirits passing through me, or perhaps a surviving mortal (my beautiful guide) trying to find a soul mate.

I don't know what I was feeling that day but it felt good, this much I do know. It happened much too fast for me to really understand. But nothing to be ashamed of my own heart tells me, so I shouldn't be tormented. To try and reason this sudden encounter is impossible and to put my feelings into words is hopeless, but total silence is not an option either. I would like to explore this awkward fascination, even though misfortune could well plunder my dreams of far off lands. The sanctity of the church can be a nurturing place and offer safety in a storm, so I shouldn't worry, but it can keep me from the sun’s redeeming light, and there unknown's silently wait for a slip of the tongue. Days can be a lifetime when your right inside the moment, but afterwards when time has past it seems more like a flash, this knowing is not enough to satisfy me personally but spiritually where time does not exist, it was plenty. But I need to know more about the other side of this story, what's it all about?

I now see Russia as a woman, there's a gentle nature to her and she is not as I imagined. Oh! I know she has turmoil and rage in her belly, but she instinctively knows there are no scientific medical cures for her condition, the parasites in her body are not new to her and she'll fight them with her own antibodies, as she's done in the past. Yet with all her uneasiness and burden she still glows, giving off a light that can be seen by the sun. She breaths confidently, her skin is smooth and pure, even though her veins run heavy with the blood of sacrifice. Her strength is her light and her future; she follows it through the eyes of a newborn child and with an innocent curiosity lost to most. She moves with the muse of a poet and the heart and soul of a Savior, cautioning as a mother to her children. Her nourishment is her gift to us all and there are no borders for her loved ones. She cloaks her passions, her desires, her dreams, sharing only with her believer's, for the rest she needs not.

Written By: John Ellis
Published by: Music Borders

www.musicborders.com

Peter McBurnie (From "IT")

Peter McBurnie (Orbit Starr) was a popular name spoken around Toronto's Yorkville Avenue during the sixties and people were very much expecting this name to join in with the ranks of the rich and famous. Unfortunately for us music lovers he took another much less traveled road as an artist (painter) and a Foley artist. Still there's time left so perhaps it's not too late. There are many McBurnie songs still unheard and that's a real tragedy. There are some of his songs (ala Orbit Starr) on the home page that can be down- loaded for your pleasure, have fun listening and let Peter know that you've been listening, drop us a line or leave a comment below...

The oil painting below was painted by Peter McBurnie (Tom Thompson Award winner) to be used for the cover of John Ellis' first solo album (vinyl), unfortunately it was never used, turned down by the powers that be (RCA). One of my favourite thoughts (still is) was for Pete and I to do a music project together. You may remember Pete's stage name Orbit Starr, he wrote some pretty powerful lyrics to music and I will never forget singing for our supper at "The Hamburger Joint" and at "Sammie's Pizza" on Avenue Road off Yorkville, anyone else remember those times?


Article Posted By: John Ellis

http://musicborders.com/Old%20Musical%20Friends.htm

Danny Boy

Sheila Ryan "Down By The Glenside"

Article written (1995)

Born in Limerick, Ireland, Sheila is from a very musical family. She grew up to the sounds of the Irish music & dance and sang with her father as they worked on their family farm, where she learned to appreciate the wide traditional Celtic musical heritage in which she developed her wonderful voice...

As a teenager, Sheila played in folk groups, with country bands and toured with a variety show in Ireland. This experience taught her to enjoy working with the public and brought out her ready wit. Sheila has performed on radio and television in Ireland and Britain with her Irish Harp & Guitar and since coming to Canada ten years ago has written and performed in B.C., Alberta and the Yukon in concert & lounge acts. Her new CD "Down By The Glenside" is Sheila's third recording, produced by Will Millar and featuring some outstanding musician's including Michael Creber and Wilcil McDowell.

You will find this CD easy on the ears and it includes such favorites as "Danny Boy" & "Annie Laurie" as well as original material written by Sheila. She has treated all the songs in her own special way, unique style and the result is a contemporary Celtic masterpiece. Enjoy...

Listen to a clip of "Danny Boy"

http://musicborders.com/Sheila%20Ryan.htm

Posted By: Music Borders

A Winter's Night

Written By: John S. Ellis (December 21st, 2004)

Remembering the sensation of stomping snow from my boots, being welcomed into the warmth of the kitchen, the old house creaking under the weather outside, brittle windowpanes rattling with all of natures' fury… Once inside I could fully appreciate the low winter sun, lighting up the snowy blast along Main Street, and after discarding layers of cold wet clothes I settle in front of the fire; where thick woolen socks steamed for half the night.

The crackling stove threw out its heat six feet or more and lit up our red faces, coaxing us back and forth with its erratic heat waves, kitchen delights drafted through and around our laughter and tears, and me not wanting time to stop… True friends with jars full, guitars tuned up and voices wide-open, harmonies powerful enough to heal the most troubled soul... Happiness smiled its beautiful Island face all around that cozy parlour, while the difficult world "from away" kept a safe distance far beyond the harbour light.

There were no locks on this hidden treasure "Souris By The Sea", and a trusting heart was always found open for this "Born Again Islander". Curiosity was your welcome, sincerity your warmth, and your kind frankness held me much longer than planned… Final departures would be imminent however, and one's heart would have a new struggle to content with; how to say farewell to such a force of friends, it's been impossible so far...


John Ellis is a native of Manchester, England. He is a Singer/Songwriter and a Recording Artist. John and his family resided in "Souris, Prince Edward Island" for several years. His mother Nora peacefully rests in St. Mary's Cemetery, Souris. John is currently a resident of Victoria, British Columbia...

Notation By:Waldron Leard

Posted By: Music Borders
www.musicborders.com

St Patrick & The Morning Commute

St Patrick: How did he get onto the world calendar anyway? I know those old monks were infamous for their persuasive beverages, such as wines and brandy in warm countries, beer and whiskey (the water of life) in the colder climates. Or was it because he single handedly saved the history of modern civilization, debatable but another story altogether. He was extremely busy with the sounds of scribbling and scratching on parchment day and night as well, composing history, unfortunately there were'nt many women of the cloth back then and that’s why you won’t find herstory anywhere...

The story we’re most familiar with is of St Patrick charming all the snakes from Ireland's rocky shores, which was an unlikely habitat for reptiles anyway, again another story. Non the less, this brings me to the reason for writing today. I would like to extend a hand of welcome to St Patrick, come and grace us with your presence here on the South Island, charm those same slithering fiends from our midst, just over the Malahat would be fine, even better perhaps he could entice the whole pit onto our Courtenay Commuter train. This Vintage Conveyance leaves Victoria like clockwork every morning at eight O’clock sharp, blasting it's big air horns like somebody cares, they'll feel right at home I'm sure. I guess these same influential few were able to approve this service so they could quietly go to work in Courtenay each day but still reside here in Victoria, makes perfect sense to me. Only in Canada ah!

Posted by: John Ellis
www.musicborders.com

Thorrablot

As I’m lead to understand it “Thorrablot” is an Icelandic word meaning “to break the back of winter” and we did just that, well maybe we just sprained its ankle a little. My wife and I were very graciously invited to this annual event by our noble Icelandic friends Len & Karen pictured here with family members. We sat with them at the very large round table and were submitted to some pretty serious nosh. Roast Beef, Corned Beef, Ham this and Ham that, sausages made from things that I don’t think we even have here in Canada, little swirly flat things that look like cinnamon but no, it was some sort of ham again. There were pickled herrings floating in lemons and lettuce, along with all other colors of the veggie garden all spiced up for an evening of seasoned abandonment, of course I couldn’t move afterwards and I suspect that I won’t need to eat for the next few days either. Forget the dancing, although I was able to spin my beautiful lass around half the dance floor before running out of the wild, untamed and restless.

I am compelled to write this article because of the way this auspicious event made me feel, like I was sitting down with my own kind of people, and as an immigrant to Canada myself, I felt a real kinship to these hearty Vikings. Their stories of goodbyes to the auld motherland, and being told “don’t look back” for fear that her mournful mountains and valleys would prevent them, now remembered as much taller and a deeper green in the hearts and minds of today. This all touched a singular chord with me, their old nautical passages to the North American shores were not unlike my own crossing of the Atlantic, where I endured upwards of force ten gales to reach the land of opportunity, vowing never to step foot on any floating vessel again although you know I did, as time would reveal two more Atlantic crossings. These days, seeing as man has developed wings, I’m quite happy to fly.

This story is far greater than the few words I have conjured up here, so feel free to add your own Thorrablot tale, into "comments" down below.

Posted By: John Ellis
www.musicborders.com