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folk devils and moral panics

by The Rowan Amber Mill

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The 'folk devils and moral panics' mini album was put together from recordings made in late 2007 through through to August 2008. Much of it was recorded prior to the band being put together as a 3 piece (and even before the band had a name).

'folk devils and moral panics' has only previously been available indmill dot com, and since indmill's sad demise it has since been unavailable. We thought it'd be a good idea to make it available again and we are happy to now be able to release it as a deluxe download to a wider audience via the bandcamp site. We may even put together a limited CD release if enough people want one.

This deluxe download includes the cover art, additional promo CD artwork, lyric sheets, liner notes and details about the of the songs themselves.


released August 25, 2008

All songs written by Stephen Stannard, except track 6 Traditional arr Stephen Stannard.
Production, mixing, artwork: Stephen Stannard
Appearing on this release were:
Stephen Stannard: Guitars, Vocals (tracks 2, 4 and 6), Strings, Woodwinds, Banjo, Bouzouki, Mandolin, Bass, Brass, Tin Pots, Synths, Mellotron, Melodica, Melodeon, Percussion (exept track 1).
Kim Guy: Vocals (tracks 1, 3 and 5), Recorders (track 5)
Terry Stacey: Drums on track 1.



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The Rowan Amber Mill Devon, UK

Since 2007 The Rowan Amber Mill have been purveyors of Woodland Folkadelica / alt-Folk (delete as appropriate).
They've released 2 mini-albums: "folk devils and moral panics" in 2008, "midsummers" in 2009. In 2010 they released their debut album "Heartwood".
The fluid line up went from a solo project started by Stephen Stannard to include 4 members and is now back to Stephen's solo project.
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Track Name: The Hunter
There's always been a hunter, he who steals the game
There always been the hunter, we do know his name, we do know his name
There's the squire and master, the horses he'll run lame
But for the squire and master we'd all play the game, we'd all play the game

I know we're in for hell, they fix the price to sell
Then take away the chain that mills the grain, that mills the grain

Keep the candles burning help the hunter find his way
When the hunter becomes hunted he'll need a place to stay, so hide him till comes day
However hard the winter, the hunter knows our name
He'll be there with bird or hare and never ask for pay, the hunter knows our name

They'll tie him to the sails, while sharpening their blades
But we're going to smash the gang, man for man with stones in our hands

Keep back corn, break the stone, make your own, so the hunters not alone
Track Name: Blood and Bones
We carved wood and stones to see through their eyes
With roots in the soil are traces beyond time
I held her close to the mid-summers morn
The light split the sky and the seed moved through the corn

Placed for the heart and the soul
Fashioned with cuts from the corn
Hung high in the eaves in the homes
In shaping the sheaf who strikes the final blow

Oh the grinding at the stone
Oh to receive my blood and bones

And to combine this dark into light
The feast feeds the soil oaks burning for their eyes
Fresh from the fields and down through the fair
With branches of green. Yellow flowers for her hair

Faces shone green into gold
It's there in the trees that they roam
Projecting their leaves through a smile
of carved wood and stones blank, spaces for their eyes

Oh the carving of the stone
Oh to receive my blood and bones
Oh the grinding at the stone
Oh to receive my blood and bones
Track Name: Saturnalia
Looking toward Albion, through the tales of yore
Calling to better times like the times before
Reeling for meaning high in the dancing trees
The warm drift of the western wind carried here for thee

Let the fires burn higher and return to the ground
All good things the earth will spring leaves us to be found.

During saturnalia hope the wind will change
Everything you know is wrong underneath the spreighs
Through lammastide to harvest home we use them as our own
We're all so proud to sing aloud trusting in the corn

Let the fires burn higher and return to the ground
The seed will flow to bring life o'er, the seasons now to grow

Threading the needle joins the rows. The evenings dying sun's last throes
Spirits need feeding oh to sow and grow, grow.

Sow in the fields and take me back.
Sow in the fields and take me back.
Track Name: Spinning And Singing
Soft hands sit moulding the colourful clay, the smallest of people in their working days
If I should consider the world of creation, keeping so busy just passing the time
On a warm summers day we'll sleep in together, keep our heads down til the work whistle blows
The cider we've had has soaked up the honey, the bread, the eggs and the elderflower wine

Sing Sing Sing when your spinning
The Earth moves at the beginning
It's where we all first learnt milling
Much time spent toiling the old fashioned way

The tune will come buzzing around at my head. The passing of time is all that is meant
Everyones shoes and their hands look the same. It doesn't take long to mould into this place
Hitch a ride on a boat hitch a ride on a train. Shoot the same scenery time and again
Everythings over by a quarter to three, with the box is spent a'spinning around just for me
Track Name: A Miller's Tale
Take up arms we'll all be soldiers
Our battle lines drawn in the fields
We'll all be kings and all be saviours
But only a fool is king for a day

The Millers chain won't stop me now
Asleep in the barley that the wind don't bow
He'll keep a watch between the sails
but I'll return to twist the blade

Well now my master where do you wander
Over the hills and far away
Once so brave to keep us under
While safely preserved from this peasants grave

And from the fields like storm and thunder
Hear the voices ring the change
Don't turn back walk on forever
Now I've returned to twist the blade.
Track Name: Wassail (Cider Lolly mix)
Wassail, Wassail all over the town
Our bread it is white and our ale it is brown
Our bowl it is made of the green maple tree
In the wassail bowl we'll drink unto thee

Here's a health to the ox and to his long tail
Pray god send our master a good cask of ale
As good cask of ale as e'er I did see
In the wassail bowl we'll drink unto thee

Come butler come fill us a bowl of the best
Then we pray you soul in heaven it may rest
If you do bring us a bowl of the small
Down shall go butler bowl and all

Here's to the maid in her lily white smock
Who tripped to the door and the slipped back the lock
And slipped back the lock and pulled back the pin
For to let us jolly wassailers waltz in.