Yeats in Song: New Single Released; He tells of the Perfect Beauty

New radio single out today: "He tells of the Perfect Beauty"
Dave Curley and members of Lúnasa

From the forthcoming Various Artists CD: 'I AM OF IRELAND / Yeats in Song' out July 23

"He tells of the Perfect Beauty" Single
(Words by WB Yeats, Music by Raymond Driver)
Dave Curley - vocals, guitar
Cillian Vallely - low whistle and uillean pipes
Colin Farrell - fiddle
Trevor Hutchinson - bass

"He tells of a Perfect Beauty" is a new song performed by Irish singer Dave Curley with members of the group Lúnasa,s from the forthcoming Various Artists album 'I AM OF IRELAND / Yeats in Song.'  The single is released to radio today to celebrate Yeats's June 13 birthday.

The new album 'I AM OF IRELAND / Yeats in Song' features 24 poems by Irish writer William Butler Yeats set to music by Raymond Driver, and performed by some of Celtic and folk music's best-known voices including Cathy Jordan (Dervish), John Doyle (Solas), and Christine Collister (Richard Thompson). The album will be released (in digital format only) July 23 on Merrow Records, with pre-orders beginning June 11.

"He tells of the Perfect Beauty" is a love poem that's given an elegant performance by these master musicians.  Dave Curley is a rising young singer and multi-instrumentalist from Galway who has worked with Moya Brennan of Clannad, SLIDE, as well as Irish 'supergroup' Lúnasa, three of whose members join him on this track — Cillian Vallely (uilleann pipes, low whistle), Colin Farrell (fiddle), and Trevor Hutchinson (bass), the latter who also mixed the song.

This is the album's second single. The title track "I am of Ireland" with Cathy Jordan and Seamie O'Dowd was released for radio at St. Patrick's Day.  Information on the new album is at yeatsinsong.com

'He tells of a Perfect Beauty'
O cloud-pale eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes
The poets labouring all their days
To build a perfect beauty in rhyme
Are overthrown by a woman's gaze
And by the unlabouring brood of the skies:
And therefore my heart will bow, when dew
Is dropping sleep, until God burn time,
Before the unlabouring stars and you.
- W.B. Yeats

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