"An ever-intriguing writer."
"A genuine talent."



Spirit Of The Green Man

The music began in the elsewhere;
carried over the Black Mountains on a stormcloud.
The notes fell steadily and rhythmically
against the tightly-stretched skin of the tipi.
Soaking the greasy grass. Falling upon Grandmother Earth.
Turning the Usk Valley to slurry as the Mighty Sugarloaf looked on.
Down here amongst the many beards and the elk antlers.
Down here amongst the sagebrush smoke
and the burning tobacco bundles.
Let peyote juice flow. Let the mystery dance commence.
Watch the notes as they continue to fall.
Down upon Findlay Brown.
Down upon Kenny Anderson.
Down upon the girl from Tunng.
Down upon Emma-Lee Moss and Johnny Flynn.
Down upon iccle Joanna Newsom.
Down upon Steven 'Singing' Adams.
Down upon Andy Cabic, James Yorkston,
Bill Callahan, Vashti Bunyan and Diane Cluck.
Down upon the many-headed Earlies.
Down upon old-timer John Renbourn and local boy Gruff Rhys.
Down upon Oh-Great Sage Naturalismo Devendra Banhart.
Down upon David Ya-Ya Herman Düne and Neman Herman Düne.
Down upon Portland's Stephen Joseph Malkmus. Down upon The Jicks.
The moon and the stars move in perfect harmony.
We emerge from the stormclouds purified. Born anew.
Cleansed by the sacred rains.
Cleansed by the sacred winds.
Cleansed by the sacred music.

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