So a trip to New York for March didn't exactly work out as planned. These things happen.
Two years ago this month, Jack Hardy passed away. I had seen him play in a bar in Brooklyn the year before and I am proud to say that I got to share the gig with some poems. I only wish I had known then what I know now - what an absolutely brilliant
songwriter, singer and gent he was. I think there are few singers nowadays whose lyrics read well without music; those whose do are a level ahead in my opinion.
When he died The New York Times ran a page about him and his commitment to the folk scene (click here). I find it quite remarkable how someone this good was a secret all my life until that night in Brooklyn a few years ago. Since then, I have again and again played his albums 'Rye Grass', 'Noir', 'Omens' and 'Coin of the Realm' - a fraction of what he recorded. This song here - I ought to know - is just one of many gems that give me a great memory of a trip to New York. So this time I couldn't get to go. And things sometimes don't go as planned.
"Like a love letter to the world on the eve of its destruction" Stephen Murray
"These dynamic and surprising poems challenge and delight at every turn. No survival kit is complete without a little grace like this." Brendan Constantine