It’s been a while since I got to press the F-major button in categorising a post.
History does not record who Thomas was or what it is that he cannot. My guess is “Thomas you cannot go to the window until Godiva has gone back indoors”.
The first Duke of Luxemburg was Wenceslaus I (but not Wenceslaus I of Bohemia, the Good King of the song). By the time that Playford published this dance in 1695, the Habsburgs were the dukes of Luxemburg along with the rest of the Netherlands and Belgium.
I’m gonna play this song, it won’t take long, we’re gonna do the twist and it goes like this.
While you’re still reading, the twist was an important social innovation in dance hall dancing because it represented a transition from couples/set dances to individual/group dancing.
A handy way to get some housework done while also having fun and straining your groin muscles.
This is in Hardy’s collection.
From the Musick Meeting, where it’s from Kynaston. That’s Nathaniel Kynaston from Shropshire (the same neck of the woods as highwayman Wild Humphrey Kynaston), not Edward Kynaston, a contemporary actor.
Sorting through some folders of sheet music I found this on a loose leaf, with the comment “from the manuscript of William Clarke of Feltwell” in the corner. Sure enough, there it is (no. 203 in the manuscript).
I first heard this on Swarb’s “Rags, Reels and Airs” where he plays it about 500 times faster. It works at this speed, I think.
There are so many variations of this tune that I don’t think I even ran out doing four different A parts and B parts. Of course they’re all Morris dances from different villages, so the differences are perhaps explained as the result of whatever buttons the inebriated concertina player happened to press on the day that Cecil Sharp came to town.
The tune originally comes from a song, though it’s not a particularly pleasant song.