Get all 10 Kenny Mitchell releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Acoustic guitar & Piano Ramblings, Solaris Annus 365.24219, Undead, Flowers, The Light and The Dark..., Cinematica, The Lark at Heavens Gate, Resurrection, and 2 more.
1. |
Death of a Nation
22:33
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2. |
The Time Between
05:38
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3. |
Resurrection
16:18
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4. |
The Ossian Deception
11:01
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The so-called bard of ancient epic verse,
Took public and literati down a road perverse.
Presented as the Holy Grail of Gaelic poetry,
Accepted wholesale as a work of ingenuity.
This Celtic Classicism to rival Homer,
Ultimately proved a shameful misnomer
Its influence spread throughout Europe,
Through music and art it grew in scope,
Until it took on dark and sinister properties,
In the hands of some extreme philosophies.
Perhaps it is fitting that the deceit should return,
And from it something evil was born.
Ossian’s old tales are now mostly forgotten,
And the place in Poets’ Corner, ill-gotten,
Though bought and paid for by the recycler himself,
His titles lie covered with dust on the shelf
On the long drive north, I take a break at Birnam,
And walk through the woods of Macbeth fame.
In a clearing before me is a rustic folly,
Moss-covered and strewn with holly.
With a sodden dank atmosphere.
I hear a rumbling roar from the rear.
The aged wooden door invites me in,
To a darkness the colour of sin.
Through a channel towards the light,
And a deafening noise at its height,
From the River Braan in spate,
That the Black Linn waterfall did create.
Somehow, amidst this aqueous clamour,
I was touched in a gentle manner,
By a hand on my shoulder,
As the air grew colder.
Turning, I dimly focused on a shadowy figure,
Singing in what seemed no more than a whisper.
I approached ever closer in order to hear,
He who looked like a priest or a seer.
And surprised myself by my sense of calm,
As I listened intently to his psalm.
‘Once my words were remembered and revered,
Then sorely abused and hence disappeared.
The burden falls to thee to make the truth known,
Or else happiness thou will ne’er own’.
In the time it took me to comprehend,
The strange seer was no more again.
The legendary poet was not an act of deception,
And his words neither sham, nor invention.
So hear my plea, for some peace of mind,
In your heart I hope you can find,
A way to believe that my story is true,
And that accursed waterfall I pray you eschew.
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5. |
Seagulls
02:39
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6. |
Drift
04:48
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