Just whatever I feel like writing at the time.
From here you can link to my site www.philholland.net and to various places where my music can be heard.
If you want to write to me I’d love to hear from you. You can do that through my site.
Or just write to the address info@philholland.net
4th february 2010.
I play Celtic harp, violin, piano and I sing. I write, arrange, record and perform all my music.
I suppose for the necessity to define, I and others would call my music Celtic, but it has also a strong classical feel to it at times, and you can detect folk and minimalist influences.
I love purity of sound, I love music that flows and breathes and above all, I love music that has something to say. Music that is an empty expression of virtuosity leaves me just that…empty.
My first memories of music are singing. Singing while skipping rope, singing while playing hand clapping games, singing while walking my dog, singing while sailing in the Irish sea with my dad, singing while riding in the car on what seemed like interminable journeys (are we nearly there yet?) singing, singing, singing…
My first instruments were my mum’s pots and pans with which I would drive the pipe band mad as I followed them down the road and into the glen, banging away like mad. I’m sure at the time I thought I was contributing generously to their musical performance, but I am now heartily sorry.
My next attempt was at building my own guitar out of a shoe box and some elastic bands of varying widths and therefore “notes”.
I soon progressed to the recorder, then violin and piano.
And finally to the harp, the Celtic harp.
I fell in love with this magical instrument the very first time I touched a string and plucked it. There is something about the harp. It is above all a generous instrument. As you play, it gives you energy.
It also has a healing, calming quality about it.
I play a mixture of Scottish music (my father’s side of the family comes from Kircaldy), Irish music (my mother’s family is from Dublin) and I also write a lot of my own music.
These are the words to a song of mine, “The Far Away Child”, from my album, “Going Home”.
Oh, can you smile and can you laugh?
On this long journey.
Time has no meaning on the path
Of this long journey.
Just try to hear and try to see
So that you can journey.
Can you see the child in the distance?
So reach out your hand and show her you're there.
Can you hear the child in the distance?
The masts are clicking in the mist
Lost in the years.
The waves caress me, like being kissed
All through the years.
I try to taste the sharp salt sea,
So to keep those years.
Can you see the child in the distance?
So reach out your hand and show her you're there.
Can you hear the child in the distance?
Ice cracking in the frozen burn.
The only sound.
A sudden cry will make me turn,
To find this sound.
The voices always are in my head
There is no sound.
Can you see the child in the distance?
So reach out your hand and show her you're there.
Can you hear the child in the distance?
Upon my red rock I close my eyes,
To hear the wind's breath.
I feel inside me a small child cries.
It is the wind's breath.
Oh, listen hard and hear her voice,
I feel the wind's breath.
Can you see the child in the distance?
So reach out your hand and show her you're there.
Can you hear the child in the distance?
The children playing far away,
But I am here.
I hear their voices but cannot stay,
Yet I am here.
Forever gone, so find your home,
Perhaps it's here.
Can you see the child in the distance?
So reach out your hand and show her you're there.
Can you hear the child in the distance?
