Ray Fisher sang the bleak Twa Corbies, accompanied by her brother Archie on guitar, in 1962 on their EP Far Over the Forth; this recording was included in 1965 on the Topic compilation Bonny Lass Come O’er the Burn, in 1975 on the famous 4 LP compilation Electric Muse and later on its CD version New Electric Muse, and in 2009 on Topic’s 70th anniversary anthology Three Score and Ten. The EP’s sleeve notes commented:
When is a ballad not a ballad? Answer—when it isn’t sung. The Twa Corbies has for long been regarded as one of the most flawless as it is one of the grimmest of all our ballads; but it wasn’t being sung. No tune appeared to survive in oral tradition and attempts at setting it remained literary, academic and dead. Then R.M. Blythman (the Scots poet “Thurso Berwick”) set it [in ca 1956] to this marvellously sombre old Breton tune, An Alarc’h, The Swan, learned from the Breton folk-singer Zaig Montjarret. The result was astonishingly right and The Twa Corbies has passed into the repertoire of our younger folk-singers. It is related to the English Three Ravens.
Jean Redpath sang Twa Corbies in 1962 too on her Elektra album Scottish Ballad Book. She noted:
Proof that not all of the ‘big ballads’ are big in both form and feeling, Twa Corbies owes much of the power of its impact to its very brevity. In contrast to the more hopeful Three Ravens—that form of the ballad which is more widely known—this version presents in five compact stanzas its hard and cynical comment and captures the very spirit of the Anglo-Saxon fatalism, especially in the terrible finality of the last two lines. In this form the ballad is rare in Britain, has no European analogies and is practically unknown in Canada. The popularity of The Three Ravens and its variants in America has been attributed to minstrel stage burlesque. Since it is difficult to explain how such apparently restricted oral tradition has resulted in such a perfect and unique poem, it has been suggested that Twa Corbies is in fact a formal composition, perhaps from the pen of Motherwell. Whatever its origin, this ballad, stark and desolate as it is, remains one of the most arresting I know.
Nigel Denver sang Two Corbies in 1965 on his Decca album Moving On. He noted:
The two crows are discussing where they are going to eat, one says behind the wall there is a knight slain in battle, his hawk, his horse and lady have deserted him SO we might as well finish him off. The underlying theme is the absolute futility of war. The tune, which is Breton, was married to the song by Morris Blythman, a Glasqow schoolteacher.
Paul McNeill sang Two Corbies, accompanied by Trevor Lucas on guitar, in 1966 on his Decca album Traditionally at The Troubadour. He noted:
I can’t even remember where I first heard this song, but I’ve always thought it the finest, sparest ballad in existence. Trevor Lucas made this arrangement and when he played it to me, I jumped at the chance of singing it. I hope it doesn’t offend too many purists.
Steeleye Span recorded Twa Corbies in 1970 for their very first album, Hark! The Village Wait and more than 25 years later for their album Time, this time with the shorter title Corbies. A live recording from The Forum, London on 2 September 1995 was released on the CD The Journey. The first recording’s sleeve notes commented:
[…] otherwise known as the Two Ravens, and sometimes called The Three Ravens. First printed in [Scott]’s Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border in 1803 it is one of the most popular of the Scottish ballads. For those unused to the dialect the two birds are discussing the pros and cons of eating a newly slain knight. Ashley Hutchings: “This goes back to the 13th Century at least, and it was recorded at Tim’s suggestion.” Why is it particular about a knight? Why not a footsoldier? “Songs that go back a long way are usually about Lords and Ladies, possibly because they were a great source of interest to the people, rich and poor.”
And the Time sleeve notes commented:
Scraggy feathered, mean beaked carrion crows tearing at the tender flesh of a dead, deserted knight. As an image of impermanence there is no equal.
In between both studio albums, Steeleye Span’s singer Maddy Prior recorded Twa Corbies in 1993 for her solo album Year. She noted:
Reflection on death in its physical reality is known to the Buddhists and Hindus, but in the West only in Medieval times was it dealt with directly and evoked by skeletons carved on graves and gruesome images of Death the Reaper. In these more antiseptic times there is little in this line and flowers, wreaths and gentle doves cloud the unacceptable thought of our mortal destination. This song dates from earlier times and is for me a brilliant examination of decay.
From: https://mainlynorfolk.info/steeleye.span/songs/twacorbies.html
