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The Blacksmith Soul

by Balla Dear

supported by
Mark Abbey
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Mark Abbey Simply put, this is a brilliant album. It calls to mind Tom Russell's album, "The Man From God Knows Where". Balla Dear explores his colorful ancestry & familial heritage using organic instrumentation that sets the tone for this cohesive project. I love this album! Favorite track: The Blacksmith Soul.
patrick steele
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patrick steele Blood curdling drink spilling. Here it is. Favorite track: Anvil Heart.
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1.
Reveille 05:06
Here my sword is drawn Hear the bugle and drum Bowman stretch your string Let your arrow sing Men don’t hide away As we enter the fray Let us reason bold Death will be our gold Let your heart not dim Though the toil grim Drums of battle call How the mighty fall! “How can I wear the harness of toil, and sweat in the daily round While in my soul forever, the drums of Pictdom sound?”
2.
Anvil Heart 05:08
Hard rain will fall, hard rain will fall, beating on my anvil heart Howling caterwaul, howling caterwaul, beating on my anvil heart Train coming slow, train coming slow, beating on my anvil heart Bale the whistle blow, bale the whistle blow, beating on my anvil heart Drumfire close, drumfire close, beating on my anvil heart Hail the Holy Ghost, hail the Holy Ghost, beating on my anvil heart Devil gonna roam, devil gonna roam, beating on my anvil heart Jesus take me home, Jesus take me home, beating on my anvil heart
3.
From Williamsport to Spearville my father made his way, caught up in the mustering, Missouri’s Northern fray He shod his soul with blackened coal and he hammered red hot steel, a smithy for the rank and file, his papers held the wheel Of a blacksmith wagon he honed the craft and he chanted with the fire, never was a rambling man, never were he a liar Old General Grant he made it clear “I bid you hear my call, my best horse needs your steady hand, wherefore I shall not fall” So Company “A” the 14th Illinois he volunteered, serving the cause as best he could 3 months and 3 long years A blacksmith for the infantry and blacksmith in his soul, he rode to meet the flame and steel in the Southern winds below He held his pride within his hands and his fingers trained for war, worn with toil on his brow, wrought out through the sweat of the forge He smithy-ed, soled and shoed the mares and he bonded with the steed, with quiet integrity, the model of a creed A journeyman the live long day, and humble in his stead, stout-hearted handiwork where lesser men fear to tread 3 daughters were born to him and 5 good able sons, like iron and powder on the belt, a belscram and a gun So Company “A” the 14th Illinois he volunteered, serving the cause as best he could 3 months and 3 long years A blacksmith for the infantry and blacksmith in his soul, he rode to meet the flame and steel in the Southern winds below Dear Hannah made a life with him, she was his one true love, joined like a hilt to blade, “a tang of fire and blood” A veteran in November of 1923, he passed on from the crucible which now burns under me That old brigade saluted him as he crossed the divide, and prayers that he used to pray would now be realized “To hasten the drawing out, the fuller from the tool” , his hammer is laid to rest… So Company “A” the 14th Illinois he volunteered, serving the cause as best he could 3 months and 3 long years A blacksmith for the infantry and blacksmith in his soul, he entered into his rest, and shed the flame below
4.
I dreamed of a song and I heard it sung, in the ear of my soul Phantastes rung What were the words? Oh I could not tell, only a voice I heard right well, he said Big music rang and fell from the air, Aeolian cadence descend the stair Held me afloat alone and adrift, on the back of the North Wind, cold and swift, he said The sound of many waters, deep calling to deep, awaking old echoes that all day sleep Hidden in caverns with rooms apart, to and fro in my spellbound heart, I say A voice with a feral melodious cry, reaching and longing afar and high Sorrow and triumph in Hope’s Blue Flame, a good day to die to a new born name, I say Thrilled in each note of that ancient song, my heart cried “Lord oh Lord how long Shall I travail and faint and pray? Ere thy lovely Kingdom, Bring the Day!” O wind of God, blow as I bend, blow swifter blow Your mighty wind Blow and wake the lowly spirit in me, blow until the fruit grows ceaselessly Hollering prayer, bellow above, on my faulty tower descend Your Love Blow and fill my upper chamber with storm, O wind of God blow until I’m born!
5.
Here now I offer my goodbye, for kith and kin I am off Leave and heave at the darkest hour, no lusty light or moth Dawn will not find me idly by, in mirth, twaddle or tune Brooding sweet and sour dusk, still pining for the moon I'm heading out halfheartedly, and yet I have to go A dolesome dirge of revelry, a bending banshee bow I dug a well for 40 years, and built a sad high place A belfry clown in the hungering dark, faded my painted face Bemusing is a balladear, a fool with broken tools Leather bit, wooden split, and Holy Ghostly blues Folk love to nod and wink an eye, ne'er a fig as I go Yet they are never happier, than when I'm deep down below A ring and a swing my hammer song, into the great unknown My days are nigh, by and by, with no striking of the gold I know the byway people well, a bevy of dust and spit I find my solace in the wind, the shaft, the miry pit Ever mining deep beyond, a husk of shell shocked soul Cavern heart has no leave, I've made my bed in Sheol Shadows and tales are at the door, promising dark surprise And Yet the only treasure here, I can not see with my eyes My Lord my Lord, you know me well, you are the BECKONER Bottled tears, pillow in hell, yet I know you are here Old angel will you wake me up, and give my children bread? Please send me a Raven fair, with meat to rest my head Here now I lay my axe and bone, beneath the root of a tree Three dear loves aride my coach, and pledge a lorn fealty Oh if I fall into a spell, under a mountain stream Know that I bent my wayward will, to see the NEW GOLDEN DREAM An if I fall into the stone, of Knockasheega's Tor Remember me, I never stole, one jot from splendor's door Dilly dally fally fool, upon a madman's mound Dancing reeling raving scoot, a crumbling under the ground Searching out a wavy sky, a wisp of Hope's Blue Flame Flowing gently overhead, the graven stone bearing my name
6.
You hid yourself in long wet grass, and lay upon on the moss That hoary crib held no reprieve, in the eye of your great loss Sheltered in a hollow tree you hide your heart bound up iniquity The jagged bark will skin your knee, and betray your villiany Peering out by a forlorn creek, the rocks cry out from thirst Waterless they make their stand, you feign your virtue worse You lost your way on the battleground, with a bloodied bayonet You yield your hand and broken heart, to no grand fellowship "O fallen soldier of mine! I judge that you're seeing blind And I know that you've crossed a line But you can come right back again! There is forgiveness in the wind!" "O fallen soldier of mine! I pray you will surely arise! My brother lay down your spear Alas I will wipe your tear!" These are the words I long to hear!
7.
8.
Along came a Poet, ragged and worn Spent many a long year, trying to be born He forsook the trappings, of cupidity Followed the highlands, tried and lowly He dreamt in a carol, walked in a song Tarnished like copper, his life was a psalm Bare-bones and meager, yet never was poor Fruitful in tatters, a glad troubadour He sang! He lived in a ballad, beloved and dear He sang for his life, to all who would hear To lift the downtrodden, he yearned to impart His love for the people, he poured out his heart Alongside a river, that flowed to the South He came to a town, and opened his mouth He knew not the kindred, who welcomed his song Greeted with honor, and loved as their own He sang! The Bard was a'wander, to find his own name His hope was a flower, a burning blue flame The path was a hard one, rocky and rough A valley of shadow, Augean and bluff He followed The Maker, who taught him the way His passage illumined, over night and day He wandered and wondered, the struggle was good He pined and he longed to be out of the wood He sang! Along came a Swordsman, who wielded his tongue With anthems of brilliance, a Greathearted One A broadsword wellborn, strapped onto his hip He proffered goodwill and his fellowship The poise of the poet, returned to the start The Maker led Swordsman and Bard from the heart They banded together, a hilt to a blade Goodness and mercy, did follow their days He sang! The Swordsman was weary, of many long trials His heartstring crestfallen, for many long whiles The Poet was stirred up, by his Threnody And bowed his devotion, and fraternity (For) the Swordsman was fettered, in old Minor Key His Brother (DCS) had fallen, departed dearly The Poet then offered, a trustworthy oath To bear up the Swordsman, and tender a troth The soul of each other, were hammered and forged Seamless and silver, they chimed in accord A Bondstone of Brothers, confederacy The Bard and the Swordsman, a Song of Fealty They sang!
9.
Forgive me, for I've not given much time to write Been pinned in a whirlwind a fire and a fight Hanging in the balance between heaven and hell Sanctified and hollering the rebel yell (Hanging in the balance of the Spirit and the skin) (Crucified and by the Blood I rise again) And Jesus, has me covered like an eagle with her young 'Nothing But The Blood' is spillin' from my tongue There's no tempest tossin tragedy so great That seperates me from his love and my good fate Soon-Ah-Soon Soon-Ah-Soon Soon-Ah-Soon I will be going home I'm holden, on the front to overbear the hounds of hell A precious hilltop where the fainthearted fell Grimly taken in a terrible toll Ransomed both my body and my sanguine soul Now I'm broken, gravely wounded in the battle of the field Yet my saber is still strong enough to wield My Captain stands before me in the fight The enemy will have his fill tonight
10.
Warpath 04:37
I lift my eyes, up high to the hills From whence comes my help, oh my Lord Heaven and earth, they bow to your will Oh Lord come down here, oh my soul Stretch forth your hand, touch the mountain So that it trembles every block Flashes of lightning, you addle your foes Blessed be the Lord, oh my Rock You're on a war path, with a terrible swift sword The edge is doubled by the voice of your Word You're on a war path, in my spirit and soul Splitting my bone from sweet marrow You're on a war path, oh my Captain my Host A face of flint set upon your arrow Spirit of the Lord, upon me fall down Your voice hews out in flames of fire I lift my up my eyes to see, you standing sword in hand Threadbare I lay on hallowed ground
11.
No I don't want this lie to roll over me I re-fuse to sit on your floor I'm bound to break down con-ven-tion-ality And I'm keeping one eye on the door Well I will not walk in your rambling bramble Or be part of your darkened dream I am breaking accord with all you afford And planting myself up the stream I dont want the end of the innocent I want to set my children free Tear down constraints & the canvas it paints Whether real or imaginary For the circle of conciet, is a fulsome malady I implore you, I entreat, to resist your tragedy Gotta keep running, in the running, standing fast in The liberty! You are low and obscene and plainly seen Pharisaical to the bone With an evil eye, swiftly you decry The rhythm the rhyme of the throne Lo I cannot abide with hideous pride I'm a-swingin the axe for the root "Here lies the Old Saint Vainglory is dead!" Raise a glass to the blood on my boot Alas here we are my treacherous friend Sit down my dear enemy Its now time for you and I to goodbye And slay odious sympathy
12.
Oh brother man, offer your hand Out of compassion and lovingkindness You can't really help unless you stand Upon the Rock of the Ages Oh I know it's hard, when you're bound in the rain And the thunder's rolling around your every move And our selfishness adds nothing but pain It's so hard to see when my eyes are on me, I've got everything to lose! Oh my friend, just lay it down Drop your burdens onto the ground Lose yourself, and then you will find You will be found, no longer blind Love is all we need Only the kind where it's all on the line Standing fast in the liberty O my friends be found Coming out of the dark, and into the light Standing on holy ground O sister woman, offer your life Out of the beauty, of sacrifice Pour out your tender, sweet offering The cost it don't matter when counted as loss for a more excellent thing! Oh I know its hard, when you're bound in the rain And the lightning is striking around your every move And our selfishness adds nothing but pain It's so hard to do when your eyes are on you, you've got everything to lose!
13.
Dark Cloud 05:04
I'm on a road, a valley of shadows A path that is not plain to everyman Hidden and yet open for business I'll try to tell the story if I can... There's a dark cloud on the skyline There's a dark cloud on its way And I'm out here without sunshine And I cannot tell night from that old day That's where faith comes, that's where faith comes In so handy, and Lord your never slack This is hands on, this hands on On that plow, here there is no turning back Fear, frustration and cough syrup They do not constitute reasons for change Finish the work that you've been called to do And the lamp upon your feet will show your way Well I hid myself down on the olden path Deep in the woods of transition bluff “The real work is rarely in the limelight” And my friendship with the moon is quite enough This journey is not without communion My Father has my back and lifts my head Homelessness is just a state of mind, my dear And that “old angel will wake us when there's bread”
14.

about

The Blacksmith Soul

Written/Recorded/Produced by Patrick Steele
"Arkansas Planxty" & "Take The Rattles Out" written by Phree Nelson
Mastered at Disc & Dat by Bruce Neher

credits

released May 3, 2019

“Blacksmith Soul” is a tribute to my ancestry and forefathers who’ve gone before me, an autobiographical account of my own life and ‘working out’ my faith. From the start, this album was forged in hardship and trial, and we finish it without regret in sorrowful loveliness. Nothing of worth ever comes easy or quick, true worth will always come with great cost. Originating from Scotland and Ireland, they entered America by way of Baltimore. Traversing the landscape through war, love and hard work, finally settling in Kansas as homesteaders for railroad expansion. My direct line ultimately migrated south into Texas, where I was born and mostly raised. A line of hard handed men, skilled in trade work with steel and smithing, soldiering, and a deep love of God and music.

This album was made entirely in these Arkansas towns:
Little Rock, Bryant and Bauxite 2016-2018

Through much hardship and pain were these songs brought forth. Love, great loss, injury and death. I hope you will be moved by the spirit of these songs.

I owe the greatest debt of gratitude to my wife Laura Jo, for her unwavering support and loyalty. (Let this be a testament to our union, and journey together henceforth.) It has been said that the darkest hour is just before the dawn, and I will say that she has been joined at my side through every dark hour in the night of the soul, never forsaking me.

To Richard Douglas, you have been the friend closer than a brother. Thank you for spurring me on, calling me out on my foolishness, and holding dear the music that I make. Thank you for being a warrior and confidant,
always allowing me to vent, rant and rave, and then speaking the truth in love. Thank you for sharing your life and family with me, and receiving us as your own blood clan. Brothers Forever.

To Phree Nelson, you are the sister I never had, until now! You are a valuable and precious friend who I esteem greatly! Thank you and G for being “Our People”, and receiving us as your own blood clan. Thank you
for taking that walk in the morning years ago in Ireland. Thank you for the music that you put forth, it blesses my soul.

Honorable mention: To Randy Boyd (The Fashion God), Jon (The Maestro) & Lisa Waughtal (for always treating us like royalty!), Yolie Delgado, Andy & Joy Amason, Marshall Holloway (Enigma Man, and uncle to my kids),
Kent & Gig Byers (Y'all are amazing friends, and we treasure you a great deal), Richard & Kasey Douglas, Brianna, Kellan and Kade, Seoirse O’Treasaigh, Jodi and the boys, Tim & Yvonne Meister (Dad & Mom #2), Sean & Rachelle Michel (Crazy Uncle Sean and Rachelle, y'all are our family forever. Keep dropping the phat beats), Pop & Ma, Granpa Jim & Grandma Jo, Terry & Malinda Steele, Calvary Saline, Bill & Susan Hodge (Our Colorado family. Thank you for digging in with us from the start, and making the beautiful guitars I play), Oden & Sam Fong (White Eagle bro, White Eagle), Dead Celt Society (my people), Justin Bratcher (Victor Events), Gerry at Hibernia Irish Tavern, Poiema Fellowship, John Shoaff, Steve & Monica Marquez, Eric Siemens, Calvary San Marcos, Sonny & Kimberly Monteverde (for fighting for us), Chris Taylor (for listening to all my frustrations and always being available to talk about this crazy thing we both do), Anthony Gravely (you never lack encouragement, in spite of your own hardship, thank you), Bill Mallonee (Man, what can I say? You are my teacher, friend and benefactor. I can't imagine life without your say and influence.)
Fight Fear, Make Art.
To all of you who’ve supported us from the start, God bless you.
Christ Jesus, I know that you are real and alive, and I humbly thank you for seeing us through every step of this arduous road. Your yoke has been much easier than my own, and you have been the brother, father, friend and guide when all else turned away. Thank you Eternal Maker.

This record is dedicated to the life and memory of Louie Delgado and David Charles Summers.
(I will see you in the Highlands, on the other side of eternity.)

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Balla Dear Texas

Songs born out of trial and triumph, Balla Dear explores the dichotomy of the human condition, the physical and the spiritual. From deep in the heart of central Arkansas, Balla Dear muses in the medium of Southern Folk, Country Gospel, and Folk Ballad. The themes are evident; peace and solace amidst one's own undoing. Sacrificial love is by far the greatest gift among men. ... more

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