About this recording

On State Pier in New Bedford, the words of one of Portugal's most famous poets, Fernando Pessoa, are inscribed, in Portuguese and in Englis : "God Placed Danger and the Abyss in the Sea, but He Also Made it Heaven's Mirror."

The ports, harbors and inlets of Massachusetts and Rhode Island have been home to seafaring men and women for 400 years, and yet most of the best-known songs of and about the sea are from the British tradition.

Newport's most notorious contemporary saloon singer and balladeer – Jim McGrath – herein helps to balance the scales with six traditional American sea songs and seven of his own.

Each song tells a story, whether of a jealous murder in the home port, hard life and death at sea, the promise and pitfalls for immigrants, or – as in the title tune – the elation of returning home from the sea.

While the setting for these songs ranges from the Greenland whale fisheries to Boston Harbor, from New Bedford to Westport, and from Nantucket to Newport, the stories and themes are universal.

This album and its songs are dedicated to those who have made the hard but rewarding choice to earn their livelihod on the sea, thereby risking the abyss, but gaining a noble perspective.

– Jack Radcliffe

About the songs

1. Greenland Fisheries.

This one is also known as '"The Whale." It's been in my repertoire for 40 years or so. The opening a capella verse is from a West Indian version of the song I picked up from a recording that Pete Seeger did while a member of The Weavers.

'T'was in 1853, June the 13th day
Our gallant ship with her anchor weighed
For Greenland bore away, brave boys
For Greenland bore away

And the lookout on the cross tree stood, a spyglass in his hand
"There's a whale, there's a whale, there's a whale fish,'' he cried
And she blows out every span
She blows out of every span

And the captain stood on the quarterdeck, and a fine little man was he
''Overhaul, overhaul, with your davit tackle's fall
Launch your boats for the sea, brave boys
Launch your boats for the sea."

And the boats were launched and the men on board, and the whale was in full view
And resolved was each stout hearty man
To steer where the whalefish blew, brave boys
To steer where the whalefish blew

Oh we struck that whale and the line paid out, and the whale gave a flunder with her tail
And the boat capsized and four men were drowned,
And we never caught that whale, brave boys
We never caught that whale

"To lose a whale," our captain said, "It grieves my heart full sore,
But oh, to lose four gallant men,
It grieves me 10 times more, brave boys
It grieves me 10 times more."

The winter star doth now appear, boys, we'll anchor aweigh
We are bound to leave this cold country,
For homeward bear away, brave boys
For homeward bear away

And Greenland is a dreadful place, the land there is never green
There is ice, there is snow And the whalefishes blow
And daylight is seldom seen, brave boys
And daylight is seldom seen

2. Red Right Returning.

This needs little, if any, explanation. Every American sailor knows that when the red buoy is on the right of the ship it's a sure sign that he's headed home.

Last night I dreamt about you
While lying in my hamrnock bed
With the bulkhead groanin'
I could not get you from my head

When I lake my watch on deck
Be it dawn or chilly night
I pray for swift passage homeward
To see that red buoy on my right

Red right returning
Home to my true love once more
I'll watch the stern water churning
'T'il I meet you on that weather shore

The sea's a restless, fickle mistress
I sail upon her and l dream
Of my true love and our home port
Where no seas can come between

You are worth all the hardships
And the miseries of the sea
No storm can ruin my voyage
Knowing that you wait for me

Red right returning, etc.

That starboard light brightly shining
That causes my sailor's heart I to leap
Knowing that in a short time
I'll feel your heart as it eats

Wind and tide they favor us
As harbor lights come into view
My pay is drawn, my seabag's packed
And all I need is you

Red right returning, etc.

Last night I dreamt about you
While lying in my hammock bed
With the bulkhead groanin'
I could not get you from my head

When I lake my watch on deck
Be it dawn or chilly night
I pray for swift passage homeward
To see that red buoy on my right

Red right returning, etc.

3. Street Girl.

Loneliness and hormonal drive kept the "Judies" of the waterfront actively employed. These gals, along with boarding house ''crimps,'' saloon owners and various other land sharks kept a sailor's pockets mostly empty most of the time. Adding injury to insult was the physical discomfort often arising from amorous encounters with ''Street Girls.''

Here comes the day and I once again lay
Here in the arms of`my street girl
She's nice to me when I'm home sea
And I try to be nice my street girl

My folks had no land I was an impoverished man
There'd be no wife, no family for me
So I just knocked about until I shipped out
Gave myself up to the sea
It's nature's cruel will and l accept as a thrill
A kiss that is barren of passion
And as sure as winds blow, sure as everyone knows
Cheap love it won't fall out of fashion

Here comes the day, etc.

Once on a far-away isle where I lingered awhile
I thought that love had come to mind
But her father said, "No. With no sailor you'll go."
I became an embittered and sick man.
You can't call this love, just a bump and a shove
A relief from all of the achin'
I feel like a fool, the devil's own tool
Who'd dare to call this Iove-makin'

Here comes the day, etc.

The street girl's my friend, she loves me when l spend
And I pay for her love and pay dearly
She's always around, she can always be found
She sees into my soul quite clearly
So it's no love for me just a life on the sea
Haul the jib sheets and furl
The fore and the main, in sleet and rain,
Spend time ashore with my street girl.
Here comes the day, etc.

4. The Zubenelgenubi

The boat and the story are real. The boat was named after the twin star in the constellation Libra. I was familiar with all the crew and Steve Kelley was a dear friend of mine. Steve used to tend bar at Salt, one of the great folk music venues in the country at the time. I first recorded this a capella with my band The Reprobates in 1972 The refrain has been added for this version.

Come all you good people and listen unto me
I'll tell you of a tragedy that happened on the sea
On the 18th day of January as the sun went down
The Zubenelgenubi sailed out of Newport Town

She was duly built and fitted, seaworthy, it was said
Her skipper was Steve Goodwin from out of Marblehead
He was able, strong, confident, he'd fished for 20 years
Like all brave souls upon the sea, he had respect and fear

A fisherman's life was the life for me
I made my living out on the sea
Some call me fool, some call me brave
Now I rest in a watery grave

Aside from Captain Goodwin the crew did number three
There was Newport's own Steve Kelly, a fine young man was he;
Steve Haynes and Candace Stewart, oh they made up the crew
They hauled the traps far off the shore where the pleasures they are few

And they headed for Nantucket on a week to 10-day trip
Once out the winds did howl, the barometer did dip
And the winds that lashed about, ail off New England's shore
After 10 days out we heard not one word more

A fisherman's life, etc.

Winds lashed out fury, on destruction they were bent
While we in our warm houses, we waited for some news
There came no word or message of that boat or of her crew

Finally Goodwin's wife all on the l8th day
No longer could she stand, no longer could delay
She called upon the Coast Guard to search the ocean wide
And North to South and East to West, 'though nothing there was spied

Whatever was the fate of that boat or her crew
Will perhaps never be known to the likes of me or you
But we'll drink now unto them. wherever they may be
And all brave souls who risk their lives all on the ragin' sea

A fisherman's life, etc.

5. Rum Runner.

Before l get my phone tapped or my name put on a government subversive list, let me state that the chorus is not entirely of my own making: It comes from a Prohibition-era ballad. I came across a paperback book of Prohibition verse a number of years ago. The book has since vanished, and what was Iefi in my head was the line from the chorus of a song that was structured as a sea chantey. The arrogance of this sort of entrepreneur is not specific to bootlegging.

I don't give a damn for my old Uncle Sam
Because, l am a rum running man
Those temperance folks they sure did me a favor
Now I'm running goods up the Westport River

Prohibition laws, what a big joke
Legal bars are closed, lots of dry folk
But they won't stay dry because of heroes like me
Who outrun the Coast Guard off the deep blue sea

From Yarmouth Nova Scotia down the coast of Maine
I'm a crafty navigator, never mind my name
And I take great delight in keepin' folks wet
If there's an agent who can catch me, l haven't met him yet

I don't give a damn, etc.

Their stupid laws made by naive fools
They let me send my kids to the very best schools
Making all kinds of money running contraband
Keeping people happy all over the land

There's a full moon tonight so l won't be runnin'
When the moon is shining they can see me comin'
Hurrah for Prohibition, it's making me rich
I make run after run with hardly a hitch

I don't give a damn, etc.

I know that booze ain't for everyone
Some folks abuse it while others have fun
Whether or not they booze it ain't up to me
I just deliver the goods·and pick up the fee

The temperance people are a preaching and a roarin'
While the price of moonshine keeps on soarin'
My suits are linen, my shirts are silk
Guess what, folks, l have no guilt

I don't give a damn, etc.

6. Boston Harbor.

Most everyone bitches about their boss, and deep-sea sailors were no exception. Generally ill-fed, abused, subject to miserable weather and work conditions, they probably had good reason to complain. The First Amendment was not widely appreciated by most captains, but the use of innuendo and euphemism in sailors' songs was tolerated by most.

From Boston Harbor we set sail
And the wind it blowin' a divil of a gale
Ringtail set abaft the mizzen peak
The dolphin striker plowin' up the deep

With yer big bow-wow, with yer tow-row-row
Fal de rol de rye do dey

Up comes our captain from down below
He looks high; he looks low
He looks at the wheel, he looks at the mast
He says coil those ropes there fore and aft

With yer big, etc.

And down to his cabin he quickly crawls
And to his mate he loudly bawls
Mix me a glass that will make me cough
It's better weather here than it is up aloft

With yer big, etc.

And we poor sailors are skipping on the deck
With the blasted rain pouring down our neck
Not a drop of grog would he to us afford
But he damns our eyes with every other word

With yer big, etc.

There is one thing we all crave
For him to find a watery grave
We'll send him down to a big dark hole
Where the sharks'Il get his body,
The Devil take his soul

With yer big, etc.

From Boston Harbor we set sail
And the wind it blowin' a divil of a gale
Ringtail set abaft the mizzen peak
The dolphin striker plowin' up the deep

7. Where The Pescadores Meet.

A love triangle. A beautiful, hot-blooded, avaricious young woman; a hard-working, plain-living man of the soil; a flashy fishing boat captain with money to burn. This makes for a good song, but I'm thinking it's film or soap opera material, as well.

Pushing the boats of the pescadores
But the wind blows hard on the New Bedford streets
And there's blood on the floor where the pescadores meet

Miguel left his home in the Azores
And went to New Bedford like his brothers before
He did the hard work with the pick and the spade
Never complained, saved the money he made

Amalia in the old ways was raised
Never fond of Azorean ways
She was looking for love, but diamonds as well
And her eyes moved right past the plain worker Miguel

Amalia's family in the old way did decide
That she would be Miguel's bride
Amalia protested, but the deal it was signed
And the thoughts of those diamonds never left her mind

Soft winds blow Westward from the Azores, etc.

At the docks tuna boats were piled high
Fishermen pockets were full, their throats never dry
They bragged and they sang down at the bar
Of the fishermen place called the Stella Do Mar

Amalia heard tell of the great tuna run
And how at the Stella Do Mar good times had begun
So she dressed herself in her new skin-tight skirt
Went to the Stella Do Mar to dance and to flirt

Soft winds blow Westward from the Azores, etc.

With a smile she caught the eye
Of the tuna boat captain called Big Bluefin Cy
When Miguel he came home, there was no one around
He searched through his tears, she was nowhere around

Miguel passed the years in sorrow and gloom
The scent of Amalia still in the room
Til he heard one day she was Iivin' nearby
Still with the skipper called Big Bluefin Cy

So down he goes to the Stella Do Mar
There was Amalia with Cy at lhe bar
There was a knife and a scream, someone's down on the floor
Amalia raised her glass to her pescadore

Soft winds blow Westward from the Azores, etc.

8.Triangular Trade.

Speaking of triangles. The song tells of a once-thriving Capitalist venture that depended in part on the enslavement of fellow human beings. This song percolated for years before I wrote it all down recently. By the way – and to keep things fair – John Brown's brother, Moses Brown, was a fervent abolitionist and the family dinner table must have been an interesting place. John Brown was later prosecuted under an anti-slaving law whose existence was largely due to lobbying efforts by his younger brother.

I'll tell you a story that you all should know
Of an evil business of not so long ago
People swapped for sugar, sugar swapped for rum
Rum shipped to Africa where the people come from

Triangular trade, triangular trade
Mansions got built, fortunes got made.
Hey hey, ho ho, are you 'mos' done
Well how many slaves for a cargo of rum?

Across the ocean comes the human freight
Molasses heads north, distillers can't wait
Distillers make rum, a powerful drink
It'll cheer up the sailors when they hear the chains clink.

Fifty-six stills in old Newport
And every rum merchant is a good old sport
Oh, my God, how the money rolls in,
And everyone agrees it's much nicer than gin

Triangular trade, triangular trade, etc.

Oh, my what a fantastic game
I'm a plantation owner, Bettencourt's my name
I've hundreds of slaves cuttin' sugar cane
I work 'em 'til they drop or they go insane

Triangular trade, triangular trade, etc.

There was a slave trader in Providence town
A rich hypocrite called old John Brown
And they named a college after him and
All the clergy did agree that slavery was no sin

Triangular trade, triangular trade, etc.

Well the sons of the sons of the owners of the ships
Bear the same guilt as the men with the whips
They're still sharing in that ill gain
And triangular trade was a goddamn shame

Triangular trade, triangular trade, etc.

9. Mary Anne.

A nice, simple love song from the Canadian Maritimes. It's unique in that I believe it to be the only ballad in which there is empathy expressed for a hooked bluefish.

Fare thee well, my own true love
It's fare thee well for a while
The ship is a-waitjn' and the wind blows free
And I am bound away for the sea, Mary Anne
I am bound away for the sea, Mary Anne

The lobster's boiling in the pot
The bluefish is on the hook
They're suffering long, but it's nothing like
The pain I bear for you my dear Mary Anne
The pain I bear for you my dear Mary Anne

You see the blue heron that flies so high
She will surely turn to while
If ever I prove false to you, my love
Bright morn will turn to night, my dear Mary Anne
Bright morn will turn to night, my dear Mary Anne

You see the grass that's under your feet
It will arise and grow again
But love it is a killin' thing
Did you ever feel the pain, my dear Mary Anne
Did you ever feel the pain, my dear Mary Anne

Ten thousand miles away from home
Ten thousand miles or more
The sea may freeze and the earth may burn
If I never more return to you, Mary Anne
If I never more return to you, Mary Anne

So, it's fare thee well my own true love
It's fare thee well for a while
For the ship lies a-waitin' and the wind blows free
And I am bound away for the sea Mary Anne
And I am bound away for the sea Mary Anne

10. Blow Ye Winds.

The words of this ballad were taken from Joanna Colcord's excellent book, Songs of American SaiIormen. They were copied by her from an old log book in the New Bedford Public Library. To quote Ms. Colcord: "No modern whaleman has been able to say what is meant by the reference to '44 points' in the whaler's compass. 'Tombas' was actually Tumbez, at the mouth of the Guayaquil River. 'Tuckooma' was undoubtedly Talcahuano, on the Chilean coast.'' Colcord adds that "Sailors pronounced the latter name 'Turkeywana.' " Incidentally, the careful ear may hear the word "thores" on the verse about boxing the compass. Some have conjectured that this may be meself lapsing into ancient Gaelic. Others, less complimentary, suggest I may have stumbled over the correct word. In either event, I claim my right to poetic license. This is nearly the entire ballad, with the exception of one or two verses deemed just a little too scandalous to repeat for polite company.

'T'is advertized in Boston, New York and Buffalo
500 brave Americans, a-whalin' for to go

Blow ye winds in the mornin' blow ye winds hi-o
Clear away your runnin' gear and blow ye winds hi-o

They'll send you to New Bedford, that famous whaling port
And hand you to some land sharks, to board and fit you out

Blow ye winds, etc.

They'll send you to a boarding house for a time to dwell
And the thieves they are thicker than the other side of Hell

Blow ye winds, etc.

They tell you of the clipper ships a-goin' in and out
And they say you'll take 500 sperm before you're six months out

Blow ye winds, etc.

It's now we're out to sea, my boys, wind comes on to blow
One half the watch is sick on deck and the other half below

Blow ye winds, etc.

As for the provisions we don't get half enough
A little piece of stinkin' beef and a blame small bag of duff

Blow ye winds, etc.

Out comes that damned old compass, it'll grieve your heart full sore
For thore's has 32 points and we have 44

Blow ye winds, etc.

Next comes the runnin' riggin' which we're all supposed to know
'T'is lay a'oft, you sonuvabitch or overboard you go

Blow ye winds, etc.

The cooper's at the vise bench a-makin' iron poles
And the mate's upon the main hatch and he's cursin' all our souls

Blow ye winds, etc.

The skipper's on she quarterdeck a-squintin' at the sails
When up aloft the lookout sights a mighty schoo| of whales.

Blow ye winds, etc.

Now clear away the boats, my boys and after him we'll travel
But if ye get too near his fluke he'll kick you to the devil

Blow ye winds, etc.

And now we've got him turned up, we'll tow him alongside
Over with' our blubber hooks and rob him of his hide

Blow ye winds, etc.

Boats are overside, the tackle overhauls
The Skipper's in the main chains so loudly he does bawl

Blow ye winds, etc.

Next comes the stowing down, rne boys, 't'will take both night and day
We'll all get 50 cents apiece on the 190th lay

Blow ye winds, etc.

Now we're bound into Tampas, that blasted whalin' port
And if you run away. my boys, you surely will get caught

Blow ye winds, etc.

Now we're bound into Turkeywana, full bore in their power
Where the skippers can buy the Council up for half a barrel of flour

Blow ye winds, etc.

Now that our ship is full, we don't gave a damn
We'll bend on all our stuns'ls and we'll sail for Yankee land

Blow ye winds, etc.

We get home, our ship made fast, we get through all our sailin'
A windin' glass around we'll pass, and damn this blubber whalin'

Blow ye winds, etc.

11. Dark-eyed Sailor.

One of many so-called "broken token songs."

"Look, my darling I have the other half of the rang l gave you lo, those many years ago. Times have been hard on me, but I assure you by this token it is truly I, your long lost. ..."

As I roved out one evening fair
It being the summertime, to take the air
I saw a sailor, a lady gay
And I stood to listen, and I stood to listen
To hear what they did say

He said, ''Fair maiden why do you roam?
The day is spent and the night is on."
She heaved a sigh, the tears did roll,
"'For my dark-eyed sailor, for my dark-eyed sa[lor
So young, so stout, so bold"

'T'is seven long years since he Ieft this land
A ring he took from off of his strong right hand
One half of the ring is still here with me
But the other's rollin', but the other's rollin'
At the bottom of the sea

He said, "You can drive him out of your mind.
Some other young man you will surely find
Love turns aside and cold does grow
Like a winter's morning, like a winter's morning
The hills are white with snow.'"

She said, ''I could never forsake my dear
Though he's been gone this many a year
Genteel he was, no rake like you
To induce a maiden, to induce a maiden
To shun the jacket blue.''

One half the ring did young WilIiam show
She ran distracted with grief and woe
Saying ''Wiliiam, William l have gold in store
For my dark-eyed sailor, for my dark-eyed sailor
Has proved his overthrow.''

There is a cottage by yonder lea
This couple's married and does agree
So maids be loyal when your love is at sea
For a cloudy morning, for a cloudy morning
Brings in a sunny day.

12. The World Is Ill Divided.

I borrowed from a couple of older ballads for both melody and refrain for this song. Not all the mill workers were destined to a fate such as the girl in this song; many indeed survived the drudgery and built better lives (a.k.a "The American Dream"). The Fall River Line ran passengers between New York City and Fall River with several stops in between, notably Newport. The Robert E. Lee was an actual vessel on the line.

One day while out a-walkin' down by the sea
1 saw a lady weepin' and she wept most bitterly
And with courtesy I inquired of the source of her pain
She said it all began when down to the mill she came

Oh dear me, the world is ill divided
Them that works the hardest, they are the least provided.
Now I've lost my Daniel, that sweet man of mine
And he fires the furnace on the Fall River Line.

"With my dear sister we left our home in Quebec
Came to work the mills our fortune to correct
I met my darlin' Daniel, he was a good man to me And he fired the furnace on the Robert E. Lee

Oh dear me, etc.

One day while in the mill bad news came unto me
A boiler room fire on the Robert E. Lee
Now I mourn the loss of that dear man of mine
Who gave up his own life on the Fall River Line

Oh dear me, etc.

Now I think of returning to my native Quebec
Nothing here for me but a meager paycheck
At least in my own land where l have come from
There's comfort in family, the sound of my own native tongue

My sister she's married, so here she will remain
With two children to raise she's no time for my pain
But my life will go on in gray mist or sunshine
Far away from the ships of the Fall River Line

Oh dear me, etc.

13. Shenandoah.

Timeless. Lovely song, beautiful river, nice valley. No wonder nearly everyone has recorded it.

Oh, Shenandoah I long to see you
Far away, you rolling river
Oh Shenandoah, l long to see you
And away; we're bound away
Across the wide Missouri

Oh the white man loves the Indian maiden
Far away, you rolling river
With notions his canoe was laden
And away, we're bound away
And across the wide Missouri

Shenandoah, l love your daughter
Far away you rolling river
I'll take her 'cross this mighty water
Away, we're bound away
And across the wide Missouri

The ship sails free and the wind is blovvin'
Far away, you rolling river
The brace is taut and the sheets a-flowjn'
Away, we're bound away
And across the wide Missouri

Oh, Shenandoah, I'm bound to leave you
Far away, you rolling river
Oh, Shenandoah, I'll not deceive you
And away, we're bound away
And across the wide Missouri

Shenandoah, l long to see you
Far away, you rolling river
Oh, Shenandoah, l long to see you
And away, we're bound away
Across the wide Missouri

Oh. Shenandoah

A special thanks to my fellow Reprobates, Jim Bennett (who appears on this recording), Fud Benson and Walter McDonough... and all the friends who have kept us wet and happy 30 years or more.

– Jim McGrath, Newport, Winter, 2007

Tracks, Composer, Musicians & Times

1. Greenland Fisheries (Traditional); Banjo: Jim Bennett; bass: Dylan Roy. 3:56
2. Red Right Returning (McGrath); Electric guitar: Jim Bennett; viola: Jonathan Danforth; bass: Dylan Roy; drums: Mike Warner 3:56
3. Street Girl (J. McGrath); Electric guitar: Jim Bennett; electric bass: Dylan Roy; drums: Mike Warner; fiddle: Jonathan Danforth; tenor sax: Art Manchester. 4:32
4.The Zubenelgenubi (J. McGrath); Bass: Dylan Roy; banjo: Jim Bennett; fiddle: Jonathan Danforth. 3:33
5. Rum Runner (J. McGrath); Bass: Dylan Roy. 4:38
6. Boston Harbor (Traditional); Banjo: Jim Bennett; bass: Dylan Roy; fiddle: Jonathan Danforth; backup vocals: Tesseract* , Jonathan Danforth and Truck Croteau; percussion: Jonathan Danforth (walnut bones) and Joanne Doherty. 2:31
7. Where the Pescadores Meet (J. McGrath); Bouzouki: Truck Croteau; bass: Dylan Roy; flute: Art Manchester. 4:09
8. Triangular Trade (J. McG rath); Bass: Dylan Roy; drums: Mike Warner; bouzouki: Truck Croteau; fiddle: Jonathan Danforth; percussion: Joanne Doherty and Joan Akin (keys). 03;37
9. Mary Anne (Traditonal). Bass: Dylan Roy; mandoljn: Jim Bennett; button accordion: Jack Wright; backup vocals:Mary Beth Soares and Joanne Doherty. 3:24 10. Blow Ye Winds (Traditional): Bass: Dylan Roy; banjo: Jim Bennett; button accordion: Jack Wright; backup vocals: Truck Croteau and Tesseract; percussion: Jonathan Danforth (American Bison rib bones) and Joanne Doherty (guero). 6:03
11. Dark-Eyed Sailor (Traditional); Fiddle: Jonathan Danforth.5:34
12.The World Is Ill Divided (J. McGrath); Bass: Dylan Roy; banjo: Jim Bennett; fiddle: Jonathan Danforth; button accordion: Jack Wright; backup vocal: Mary Beth Soares. 3:44
13. Shenandoah (Traditional); Mandolin: Jim Bennett; 2nd guitar: Jim Bennett; bass: Dylan Roy; backup voices: Tesseract* ; flute: Art Manchester. 5:25

*Tesseract comprises Joan Akin, Joanne Doherty, and Mary Beth Soares
Total playing time: 45:41

Credits

Recorded at Birkhaus Studios, Newport, RI
Recording Engineer: Scott Rancourt
Mastering: Rob Pemberton, RPC Audio, Fairhaven, MA
Graphics design: Lori Bates, Bates Graphics, Newport, RI
Liner Notes: Sherman Lee Dillon
Executive Producer: Jack Radcliffe

Copyright 2007, Wepecket Island Records, Inc. All rights reserved. Duplication of this CD or any part thereof without prior written approval is illegal – and takes money out of the pockets of the musicians who made it.