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The Leaf Maker

by Wickerbird

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pcbt
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pcbt What I said about The Sea Wearver. Very original combination of ambient and folk. Sounds familiar and groundbreaking at the same time. Playing on repeat since a long time now already. Favorite track: The Coppice / A Haunting.
Benjamin Fruit
Benjamin Fruit thumbnail
Benjamin Fruit Each track flawlessly leads into the next, pulling you from reality to the mystical for the entire length of the album, all the while experiencing feelings of pain, joy, and everything in between. Favorite track: Sepulchre.
Lost Tribe Sound
Lost Tribe Sound thumbnail
Lost Tribe Sound A special kind of folk made by the cloud people... a gift to us! Pretty positive this is one of my favorite folk records of all time. I come back to it at least once a year, and it delivers the same heart expanding, wide-eyed wonderment that it did from the start. Favorite track: The Coppice / A Haunting.
Michael Keerdo-Dawson
Michael Keerdo-Dawson thumbnail
Michael Keerdo-Dawson The haunting textures remain, like the soundtrack to some 'dream western' from the 70s, but this time there is slightly more polish on the production making this Wickerbird's most professionally sounding album yet and one which might be my favourite on repeat listening. Favorite track: Vulpes vulpes.
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1.
2.
Bugbear 05:02
mama i'm a fool for all ive done left her body at the dawning of the cairn and carried on and papa know that we can't tarry long show no folly in the stalling of the ferryman, charon and oh-- I know not what I'm for but my face by the fireside warms alone in what I've known but my faith in the firelight grows and a face by the fireside shows mama ill find my arbiter alone in waters seething, timber teeming, not the leaves of ancient tomes and papa ill write my likeness in the stones but never cheating something fleeting as every one of them erodes and oh-- I know not what I'm for but my face by the fireside warms alone in what I've known but my faith in the firelight grows as i gaze on the mother of crows
3.
Riverborn 03:58
i'll hide what's hid but tell me why, tell me why again tell me signs on my skin plying lines where your hands have been, scribing me so tell me what it's for, why the wilds want you, riverborn all our bodies shorn but the dust adorns you, ever more i scried within a bottled wine, my mottled, witherin' body-- pines on the brim, and in time, the storms will snow us in, but believe-- and believe-- that i know what it's for, why the waters mourn you, riverborn both our bodies formed from the dust that haunts you, ever more just tell me what it's for what the wines afford you, riverborn all my solace torn that i may never know your winter's morn
4.
tell me why the coppice lies all alone. sown inside an isle by someone gone. their leaves will go in columns of red and gold. the weaver knows them all alone by names of old. O tell me where the coppice fares. I must go. within the mould, I've fallen there, forever moored. and gone are all the follies of satyr ghosts fauning o'er the colors of their paper boats when you were something better
5.
Sail Cloth 05:00
i sailed down upon the cold lake south til the old lake house, i neared rend my mouth, to rouse the hermit out, who said his first-born foundered here i rowed for the distant chalk-lined shore where the magpies moor and peer laid my oars within the pinestraw floor and walked the arbor for the seer and she told me what she told me... (she said), "ah ah ah my name is summer my name is winter my name is fall ah ah ah my name is sunder my name is wither my name is squall ah ah ah my name is autumn my name is sodden my name is thrall ah ah ah my name's forgotten my name is flotsam my name is all"
6.
we wandered down an archipelago the sundered sound the martyred manifold features that I have-- lost archipelago stolen from the stone steeped in oceans old steeped in my- soul archipelago archipelago come ye woodlings, sundry somethings, come ye, vulpines, ruddy, running come ye, fir trees, mossy, sentries come ye, fledglings, squalling, swelling come ye, stormking snowy, morning come ye, woodlings, round me, closing
7.
darling your ghost lives in the wall carving my bones calling me to you tracing the snow where bear had before but where you have flown i can't go with you i can't go with you i'm no lazarus a ghoul in the ground is huntin us call him erebus the fool in the garden's taken with farthins darling the crones of ills i have known are withered and roan and whispering always words i have wrote call you alone and when you go they will go with you and wordless, i'll call to the cold i feel tenuous the food of the fount is drying up i seek genesis a tomb in the garden, a womb out in walden
8.
Llewellyn 03:36
sleep, interred, within old Avalon steeped, withered, in waters gone reap your burnt baubles from Babylon but weep for naught, for nothing's wrong and though were still young the wolves walk, the rivers run Llewelyn, the wolves walk, the rivers run, the wolves walk in rivers keep them furled, our secrets, paper-bound, beneath the burled oak that we found grieving birds, the egrets gather round, with words unheard they call us now and though you're still young the wolves walk, the rivers run, Llewelyn the wolves walk, the rivers run, the wolves walk in rivers higher, higher higher, higher higher, higher higher
9.
Woodshed 03:23
10.
Sepulchre 04:38
you and I, are older than the northern light, older than the morning light from whence the days arise all we know, ebbs away in mummer shows, melts away like summer snows that form the rivers I have come to lay inside birds I scried, fast within the willows hide faster than the wicker wights that come to make the night where they go, on feathers that they never chose, and whether they will go alone, god knows, but they never die and need not say goodbye
11.
We gave her we sailed her out, the breakers where the waters keep her now the pyre alights her gown the briar --sighed-- as the ocean washed her down the snipe and boar laid stones on the shore while the warblers cried and mourned till the cairn was formed then wine was poured, the pines sang of yore and the night woods whisper for her evermore: "all my fingers rue the day that you, holly, heather and their brothers too bared your bastard grins and carried through alabaster skin I never knew" Her father, sauntered from town and faltered as we heard him say aloud "O daughter, i'll lay your crown --an offering-- for the valley and the mount" "Your sylvan wreath, I'll cast for the trees and your azure robes beneath-- they are for the seas" "The winds will seethe your name 'pon their teeth and the waterfalls will weep to have been bereaved" "and- every winter moon shall wane for you feathers in your hair-- where haybirds flew bare your Nassau grin and carry through follow mountain winds--they're speaking sooth"
12.
beside me, my broken yawl, my trawling through and falling, the winter's pall, all consumes all consumes ooooh (a dog in the doorway is wintering now) ooooh (yes, the dog in the doorway is settling down) beside me, my broken awl, my carvings strewn my darlings i've killed them all, save for you save for you save for you save for you

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I've sailed here on a boat of broken boards, bourne aloft and made scabrous in the briny surf. I am this island, craven and lone and withered across the breadth of my borders, moldering at the creases where my sands meet the sea.

--September 25, 2015--

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released September 25, 2015

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Wickerbird Seattle, Washington

Ruminations and stories and the sounds that came of them.

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