Even as I write, the mixed master of Far and Forgot is winging it's way into the very capable hands of Master Martin Russell, whom I sure you will all recall with great fondness. As soon as I receive the mastered master (!) back from Martin I shall send across to be pressed or cut or whatever the correct term for turning the master into a thousand playable-on-your-cd-players-at-home cds is. After that process is over, I will pop the appropriate number of cd's into their correctly addressed jiffy bags and you, esteemed listener, should shortly receive a shiny new copy of Far and Forgot, From The Lost Lands by Me, Francis Lickerish.
So there you go.
As I recall, I was giving you my take on the underlying resonance of Far and Forgot. I think I had more or less covered Brides of the Wind except for one quite important thematic item. After the opening horn call, you will here a short brass chorale. Notice, dear listener if you will, that the last chord of this brass chorale is both major and minor at the same time, that is to say it has both major and minor thirds sounding at the same moment in time. This is a clue as to the underlying tone of the whole album. Throughout and in every song there is an interplay 'twixt and between major and minor with the express intention of creating a sense of doubt and equivocation. Whether or not this device succeeds I leave up to your delicate judgement. It is especially pertinent in the final piece, The Faerie's Funeral as you shall see.
After Brides of the Wind comes The Shining Hour. A straight forward second movement minuet aimed at clearing the air and lightening the atmosphere. It's a kind of operatic duet between Hils and Jenny Russell that re-tells the age old Tam Lynn story with a bit of a twist. Here's the lyric.

The Shining Hour

When the light fades in the forest from a blue and breezy afternoon

When the shadows fly along the hills beneath a slip of a new moon

When the white owl sweeps the lowering dusk along the mirrored  river's glide 

Ah, it's now forgetful grow the valleys and the Elfin court does ride.

Where was he taken? 

I can't tell you.

By the mill bridge last I saw him in the dusk.

Dark eyed Queen of Elfin

Caught him in the twilight, in the Shining Hour  

Took him in the Shining Hour.

Now his eyes are strange

Yes and his cheeks are cold

As cold as the cold sea-shells

Strange and secret he grows 

Fell as a shadow he

Wills his own forgetting  hidden among the enchanted  hills.  

This night it is May Eve when the Elfin court will ride

And if you would your true love win back by the mill bridge you must hide.

And then First will run the black horse

 And then after her will run the grey  

Hold the white horse fast and fear not

You hold him fast till near day.

Dark grows the world

And the white star hovers low in the West

Now as evening  dews the flowers

With soft delighted showers

That fill the Shining Hours

Heartless she is 

As a frost upon a  May morning

All the Earth to her is young

Unkindness yet begun

All sad songs still unsung.  

In the dead hours after midnight she heard the horses bridles ring

And that fey sound and unchancy chilled her heart like no good or earthly thing

From the hollow and enchanted hills there rode out elf on elfin steed

And the new moon faded fearful and the stars grew dim with dread

This night being  May Eve by the mill bridge she did bide 

As she waits to glimpse her true love as the Elfin court does ride

And then first run by the black horse 

And then after her did run the greyAnd then raced by the white horseShe held him fast till near dayShe held him fast and feared him not

A-Crying my love I have won you.

The thunder rolled out across the sky and the stars they blazed as bright as day

And a cry came from the Elfin Queen " My young captive He's away"  

"My young captive he's away" she cried out in her anger and her pain 

"And alas tmy Young Lord he is lost and gone, and will never ever come again"

Where was he taken taken?

He won't tell you

She whom he loves is hard to catch and conquer

Dark eyed Queen of Elfin

Caught him in the twilight, in the Shining Hour  

Took him in the Shining Hour.

Is his heart still true?

Yes it is very true

To the fey queen in the hills.

By his return he was 

Dealt an unkindness

And now he waits by the mill  bridge till the Elfin court shall ride again. 

So that's The Shining Hour.

Then comes a sort of a scherzo called The Man Who Sold Magic. This is an instrumental portrait of an alchemist. Count St Germain, perhaps, or Fulcanelli. Think C19th, Vienna, Alps and a mystical midnight forest interlude. 

And then we have Seeds of the Sun. A lament. Not much more to be said about that.

The Disenchanting. This requires a whole blog unto itself and so I shall, dear reader, bid you adieu until such times as the internet weaves our lives together once again.

Light, Love and Life.

Fxxx