Jim Low – Page 9 – Simply Australia

18 September 201521 November 2022

Rev John McGarvie and The Exile of Erin

In 1972 I purchased a copy of Alex Hood’s Boomerang Songster No 1, Australian Folk Songs. It contained songs from Alex’s LP recording The First Hundred Years, which included the song The Exile of Erin. This convict lament, its setting the foot of the Blue Mountains at Emu Plains, had caught my attention when I first heard Alex’s recorded version of it. There had been a penal settlement established at Emu Plains in Governor Macquarie’s term in office. In April 1827 there were over 134 convicts housed there.

Road leading to punt site. The manse property was on the left

As I started learning to sing Australian traditional folk songs, I made a point of including The Exile of Erin in my repertoire. Continue reading “Rev John McGarvie and The Exile of Erin”

28 July 201526 November 2022

The Blind Traveller

He Sees Things Better – written and sung by Jim Low

James Holman was born in 1786 in his father’s apothecary shop in Exeter. Exeter was a prosperous, inland port in south western England.

The shop, a forerunner to what we now know as a chemist, was full of unfamiliar things from all around the world. It played a big part in determining James’ childhood decision to one day travel the world and explore the places from which all these strange items came. It also stirred his lifelong fascination with the unfamiliar and uncertain things in life.’

18 July 201523 November 2022

A Sense of Place: The Bluff

I live on the lower Blue Mountains of New South Wales, Australia. On most days recently, I have been walking to the end of my street. Here the fire track begins. The rough, sandy track forms a pathway through the bush, giving fire trucks access in the event of summer bushfires. The track becomes a series of pathways, the further you wander into the bush.

Continue reading “A Sense of Place: The Bluff”

9 July 201120 December 2022

The Eugowra Gold Escort Robbery

written and sung by Jim Low. Read the lyrics

When I walk
I do not know
what ancient sacred place
my foot may desecrate
or if my tread shall fall
where some cult-hero bled,
or shed blood,
or gave fire to man
in the far dreamtime.

(from the poem Intruder by Ian Mudie)