All That's Changed vol 1

by The Living Archive Band

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about

A freshly recorded selection of the best of the one hundred or so songs that have been written for various projects over the past 35 years.

credits

released June 1, 2009

Marion Hill & Sue Malleson: vocals
Brad Bradstock: vocals, guitar
Paul Clark: guitar, bass, vocals
Kevin Adams: fiddle, mandolin, guitar, vocals

Recorded, mixed and mastered by Kevin Adams at StudioBlend.

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about

The Living Archive Band Milton Keynes, UK

An acoustic quintet with an emphasis on strong vocals to deliver both songs and the spoken word depicting the experiences of the people of North Buckinghamshire past and present. The inhabitants of the towns of Wolverton, Stony Stratford and Bletchley and of course the new city of Milton Keynes all have had something to say, and the Living Archive Band gives them a voice. ... more

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Track Name: The Permanent Way
The Permanent Way
Kevin Adams

Granite for ballast and sleepers of pine
Cut through the country in a very straight line.
Depart and arrive the very same day
On the London to Birmingham Railway

On the permanent way
On the permanent way
On the permanent way
London to Birmingham the very same day.

Train coming out of Linslade tunnel
White smoke streaming from the funnel
Pistons pumping, drive wheels hum
Folks in Fenny surely hear us come.

Look down there that's Denbigh Hall
Hardly a sign of life at all
Turned round here when the line was new
Now we just keep rolling through

Slow goods up, fast mail down
Rattling the windows through Wolverton Town
Never mind the cinders, never mind the smoke
Wolverton people are railway folk

Steam train coming, powerful sound
Darken the sky and shake the ground.
If you live to a hundred and three
It's the fastest thing you'll ever see.
Track Name: Stantonbury Village
Stantonbury Village
words & music: J Cunningham

A barge horse pulls the Sunday School treat to Fenny Stratford,
Girls are making flowers for Whitsun Fete,
If you’re waiting in Bradwell for a train to Newport Pagnell,
You can wait forever ‘cos it’s always late!

Come to Stantonbury Village –
Smell of treacle from corner shops
To stay and have a chat won’t do you any damage,
It’s Nineteen Eight and the clock now stops

Mr Master, he’s a master baker
Come in close and you’ll hear his boast –
If there’s twelve in your house and a new bun in your oven,
He will find a corner for your Sunday roast.

See these windows for your table dainties,
Percy Styles advertises Mazzawattee tea.
Tuppence and a farthing for granulated sugar,
Special this week and the smile is free

Buy some oysters from Bert and Harry Busby,
Live every week from Yarmouth town
Harry’s a bachelor and cheeky with the barmaids
Bert does his very best to calm him down

There’s a man, Henery the Barber –
His door’s always open for a trim or a shave
Mr Fred'rick Seabrook, Undertaker
Provides the last one before the

Reverend Leggatt – he’s for the Methodists,
There’s a local Baptist Chapel too,
Charlie Daniels is from the Sally Army –
There’s sure to be religion to satisfy you.

Oh no! How could we forget him?
The Reverend Newman ‘Joey’ Guest
Vicar of St James’ and don’t you ever let him
Get you in an argument – God knows best

So take your train from Stantonbury Village
The smell of treacle is in your nose.
The Sunday School Barge has come back to the village,
It’s Nineteen Eight and the clock now goes.
Track Name: Settling In
Settling In
Kevin Adams

Step out of the front door to a world that's strange and new
Everything's so different up here
Brickwork chimneys are the only landmarks in my view
And on a foggy morning even they will disappear
I never use the bus because I don't know where it stops
Lost before I've travelled half a mile
Consolation is awaiting if I find the shops
'Cos everybody talks to me and greets me with a smile

Across the garden fences
Neighbourhood life commences
We're settling in,
We're settling in.

Look out of the back door at a garden yet to grow
Don’t know where to start or what to do
We never had a garden when we lived in furnished rooms
And horticulture was a confined to afternoons at Kew
Someone sold me lots of pretty coloured packs of seed
Soon we shall have flowers everywhere
I couldn't tell an orchid from a common garden weed
So anything that grows here will look beautiful and rare

Didn't bring too much with us from our old two room flat
We can't afford much, we just do without.
And if we need a helping hand we only have to ask
Friends and neighbours doing favours turn and turn about
There's plenty here from London that we knew before the war
We're all becoming new town pioneers
Our wagon train has crossed the plain, we’ve reached that promised land
Won't belong before it seems we've all been here for years.
Track Name: The Valley of the Shadow
The Valley of the Shadow
words & music: Paul Clark

Our great attack had failed, we'd nothing left to give.
Our wounded hanging in the wire had little time to live.
The German shells came screaming down
To shred them where they lay,
Abandoned in the valley of the shadow.

The torn and shattered fields, the bits of wire and steel
No blade of grass, or branch, or leaf, to make the place seem real.
An ancient traveller passing by just couldn't help but say:
“This surely is the valley of the shadow.”

The battle ground at night would look as bright as day,
As Very flares turned blackness into ugly, lifeless grey.
The twisted shapes that once were men in senseless patterns lay,
The tenants of the valley of the shadow.

Let paintings of that scene be hung upon the wall
In rooms where governments decide if men should stand or fall.
We'd never go to war again if leaders had their say
While looking at the valley of the shadow.
Track Name: Where My Heart Lies
Where My Heart Lies
(long as winds blow)
words & music: Paul Martin

Men are so foolish, so rarely wise
Cause for our sorrow and weary sighs
Where my heart lies he’ll never know
Sealed are my Lips long as winds blow

I love the lads the tall and the fair
Each one I choose thinks that I care

Safe in their arms my heart can sing
Take what I need ask for no ring

My John was fair his eyes shone bright
Warm in the stable that dark chill night

In Woburn town my William too
Swore on his life he would be true

My son will love me to the end
Who is his father? Let’s say a friend
Track Name: Worksong
Worksong
words & music: Kevin Adams

You were there to work, you didn't dare stop
The foreman's office overlooked the shop
In his bowler hat and his starched collar shirt
You never saw the foreman with his hands in the dirt
And up at the top of the Golden Stair
The Superintendent in his stuffed leather chair
Just look busy if he ever walked through
You didn't bother him and he never saw you

But nothing stays the same-
Now management skills is the name of the game
And it's hands-on this, and first names that
And goodbye to the foreman's bowler hat.

The charge hand hammers out the piecework rates
Does his best for his family, his best for his mates
We could build anything in metal or wood
But we cost too much for our own damn good.
See that finish in the Royal Train?
You won't see anything as good as that again
Now the very same skills of the very same man
Are patching up panels on an old brake van

Nothing stays the same
Measured time is the name of the game
And the time study man puts his watch on me
And piecework rates are history

‘You've a job for life,’ said your old man
But he didn't reckon with the Beeching plan.
Now we don't build new, we just repair-
You start to think you could work elsewhere.
Twenty years later it's the same again
At the stroke of the minister's fountain pen,
Market forces, political fads -
Kicked out on the dole one thousand lads.

Nothing stays the same-
Economic theory, the name of the game
And it's streamline this and lose more fat
And it’s jobs for the boys for the bureaucrat.
Nothing stays the same
Privatisation, the name of the game
But it’s still true as it was back then
The strength of the works is the skill of the men.
The strength of the works is the skill of the men.
The heart of the works is the skill of the men.
Track Name: There's A War On
There’s a War On
words & music: John Close

Signs saying ‘Sold Out’ are up in lots of shops
A lot of pubs are closed up – they haven’t got a drop
You have to act a bit sharp getting by these days
And take advantage of the slightest chance that comes your way
If you hear of bananas or oranges on sale
Get there before the others, ‘cos they’ll ‘ave ‘em without fail –
Can you blame them?
What would you do?
There’s a war on!

Last Saturday the missus made a tasty corn-beef pie
We bought some liquid paraffin so we could have a fry
Though using lard instead of butter doesn’t seem so good
And no-one gets their fresh fruit quite as often as they should
You must admit that powdered egg takes you by surprise
When you mix a cake and the damn thing doesn’t rise –
Can you blame it? What would you do? There’s a war on!

For all this talk of shortages and coupons and the rest
There’s still a deal of folks who enjoy nothing but the best
For all the regulations, it’s only common sense
There’s still a great deal can be done with pounds shillings & pence There’s many a humble grocer who won’t give a second look
If he should find a ten bob note inside your ration book
Can you blame him? What would you do? There’s a war on!

A local lad went walking with his girl the other day
He stopped to buy some oranges in a shop along the way
The grocer was polite but firm, he said, ‘I’m sorry son –
But oranges are restricted to expectant mums’
The lad looked at his girl and winked and then he said ‘OK
We’ll have our stroll and pop back in later on today…’
Can you blame him? What would you do?
There’s a war on! There’s a war on! There’s a war on!
Track Name: I Want a Little More From Life
I Want A Little More From Life
Neil Mercer

Here in this house, it’s not my home
I dream of somewhere I can call my own
A chance to start afresh would be so nice
I want a little more from life
The people here, they don’t complain
They say be grateful if things stay the same
But I’ll take no more of their advice
I want a little more from life

I’m not looking for La Dolce Vita
I don’t expect a life of ease
But I’m sure life could be sweeter
Why am I so hard to please?

What’s to be done? What should we do?
We’ve got to work to make our dreams come true
And though we wonder if it’s worth the price
We want a little more from life

People call me discontented
Because I want something new
But when I see how their dreams have ended
What am I supposed to do?

Here in this house, it’s not my home
I dream of somewhere I can call my own
A chance to start afresh would be so nice
I want a little more from life
I want a little more from life
Track Name: Old Bill The Carthorse
Old Bill the Carthorse
Words & music: Paul Clark

Now look at who's here- why it's Old Bill the Carthorse
Plodding along up the street
Look at him stumble, you'd think he might tumble
The strangest old horse that you're likely to meet
He's almost asleep on his feet.

Now everyone knows he's slow motion itself
When he's plodding up any old hill
But when he comes down London Road to the town
Why it's two hooves together and slide with a will
An equine toboggan is Bill.

Now building a business is lots of hard work
But it's great with Old Bill at your side.
When you're hawking and selling there just ain’t no telling
Who'll nick a few bits- but old Bill has them spied.
And he takes a good nip of their hide.

He can be a right tell tale, the rotten old sod,
If you stop in a pub for a few
He'll mosey on home, all on his own
You can have a good guess what the missus will do
When you come home-she'll land one or two.

Now I’ve sung you the story of Old Bill the Carthorse
And all the strange things he can do
People swear blind he was one of a kind
But you start to wonder can all that be true?
So I leave that judgement to you.
Track Name: The Bunny Run
The Bunny Run
Kevin Adams

Sunday afternoon we're out to take the air
Up and down in Stony Town, see who else is walking there.
Hoping that some day I'll find that certain special girl of mine.
So I'm always there when the weather's fine

On the Bunny Run

Sunday afternoon, when we're walking in the street
The lads stroll up and the girls walk down and ne'er the twain shall meet.
There's a girl I've seen who's caught my eye so I gave her wink sort of on the sly
And she winked back- now my, oh my !

Sunday afternoon, trying to impress
Cleanest boots and Sunday suits - it's not a day of rest!
You might stand a while in a shop doorway just to pass a little time of day
Till Sergeant Rollings moves you on your way...

Sunday afternoon only comes round once a week
It's over far to soon, Monday looks so very bleak
As the days go past I'm a sorry case but when I close my eyes I can see her face
And I'll see her next week in the usual place.
Track Name: Violet's Song
Violet’s Song
Words & music: J Cunningham

I met him on a Saturday, he looked smart in his uniform
We strolled along Church Street with his sister May
He didn’t talk much but said his name was Albert,
Could he walk with me on Sunday?
I said certainly, for my heart was a little wobbly…

We said goodbye on Sunday I asked him for a photograph
I think that maybe I was a little bold
You don’t have very much time when you’re a soldier
So I’ll send him off a letter,
He will write to me, as my heart is a little wobbly…

He’s learning to fight somewhere south of Aldershot
It won’t be long now before he’s as the front
I hope he’s on leave again I hope he’s home for Christmas
When this blessed war is done
We’ll have a chance to see why my heart is a little wobbly.
Track Name: Ambulance Train
The Wolverton Ambulance Train
(The Khaki Train Song)
Words & music: J Cunningham

Now people who know about Wolverton
May ask what we’ve done for the war
Well some of our lads are over in France
And we haven’t been asleep on the floor
Come and see our new ambulance train
Latest invention of the engineer’s brain
There’s a cross on the roof And it’s painted in khaki
They only missed one thing – and that was a bar!

The train has sixteen long vehicles
It measures some nine hundred feet
Its three hundred and sixty two patients and staff
Will enjoy ‘lectric light and steam heat
Come and see our new ambulance train
Latest invention of the engineer’s brain
To keep down infection the seats are all hard
Cross on the roof and it’s painted in Khaki
They only missed one thing – and that was a bar!

There are cars for the laying-down wounded
And two for infectious disease
A personnel car, a staff car, a couple of kitchens
For mutton and hot mushy peas
Come and see our new ambulance train
Latest invention of the engineer’s brain
There’s a cooler to freeze cheese for the guard
To keep down infection the seats are all hard
Cross on the roof and it’s painted in Khaki
They only missed one thing – and that was a bar!

The inside is of white enamel
So dirt won’t collect anywhere
And there’s not one corner the length of the train
So a spider would die of despair
Come and see our new ambulance train
Latest invention of the engineer’s brain
There’s a cooler to freeze, cheese for the guard
To keep down infection, the seats are all hard
Cross on the roof and it’s painted in Khaki
They only missed one thing – and that was a bar!

The pharmacy car will impress you
With it’s medical comforts store
There’s an office for the office
And a drawer for his drawers
And a treatment compartment next door
Come and see our new ambulance train
Latest invention of the engineer’s brain
In the pharmacy car, stub out your cigar
Cheese for the guard, but the seats are hard
Cross on the roof and it’s painted in Khaki
They only missed one thing – and that was a bar!

The staff car’s reserved for the doctors
And the nurses that sleep in there too
But their beds are set at each end of the coach
Fraternisation won’t do!
Come and see our new ambulance train
Latest invention of the engineer’s brain
There’s separate quarters for nurses don’t laugh
In the pharmacy car stub out your cigar
Cheese for the guard but the seats are all hard
There’s a cross on the roof and it’s painted in khaki
They only missed one thing – and that was a bar!

So our wounded will be treated in comfort
In this field hospital upon rails
No more jolting and jumping and lurching and bumping
This is luxury in every detail
Come and see our new ambulance train
Latest invention of the engineer’s brain
It’s as good as the Ritz for the patients and staff
Separate quarters for nurses, don’t laugh
In the pharmacy car stub out your cigar
Cheese for the guard but the seats are all hard
There’s a cross on the roof and it’s painted in khaki
They only missed one thing – and that was a bar!
Track Name: What Do They Think We Are?
What Do They Think We Are?
words & music: Kevin Adams

We had to leave our native city, which is really such a shame
We are up the creek, what’s more we’re all at sea
Had to move out to the country, which is nothing like the same
We’re confused by all these fields and farms and trees
And the locals’ exhibition of unnatural suspicion
Doesn’t cheer us up, what’s more it gets us down
I check the mirror daily for me horns and tail so scaly
And I wish that I was back in London Town.

Can you blame us for moving out of London?
Can you blame us for leaving it for dead?
When you've been fire-bombed and shot at you begin to feel quite got at
And you're wondering is it something that I said?
We are townies, there is no point in denying
We are townies and we're really proud of that
We would go back there at the double if it weren't a pile of rubble
If old Hitler 'adn't tried to knock it flat

What do they think we are? What do they think we are?
The pearly bloomin’ monarchy or dockers on an 'oliday
A costermonger from the Mile End Road
What do they think we are? What do they think we are?
Are we just characters from Dickens all out looking for rich pickings
What do they think we are?

We can't help it if we were born in London
We can't help it if we're not true country stock
We've come from tenements in Stepney, a one room flat in Hackney,
Or a prefab round the back of Millwall Dock
We can't help it if our kids aint country bumpkins
If their cockney vowels drive teacher up the wall
His complete exasperation at their lack of haspiration
As they find the letter haitch is hunpronouncable-

We can't help it if we’re not exactly local
We can't help it if you think we don't fit in
The air up here’s less smoky and the houses aint so poky
But novelty is wearing rather thin.
We extend the hand of friendship to our neighbours
We say "good day", and " 'ow are you?" for all we're worth
Seems like friendship's out of fashion, or perhaps it's on the ration,
Maybe they haven't heard about it this far north.
Track Name: Back Home Again
Back Home Again
Words and music: Rod Hall

Old Fritzy told me "Take a break lad,
We think you're working much too hard"
He sent a shell to help me on my way
And blew me home to my back yard..

Now I'm back home again, back home again.
There's so much that I remember
Though I'm trying to forget.
Now I'm back home again.

Not so steady on me pins now
And nothing seems to be too real.
I must be looking quite a mess now
If I'm looking how I feel.

Don't talk to me about no heroes;
If you'd been through what I've been through
You'd stick two fingers in the air
To Kitchener and all his crew.