This vintage collection of one hundred songs and chants was gathered from 13 years of Carolyn’s earlier recordings, over eight song albums from House of the Weavers (1992) to Weathered Edge (2003). Illustrated throughout with monotone images from Carolyn’s original paintings. 160 pages / 180mm x 210mm / 48 small b&w images.

SALE PRICE: during 2018 we want to clear our stock of this title in preparation for a new comprehensive and updated songbook to be published in 2019. So we are offering the last fifty copies of NAMELESS DRUM for £10 (including UK postage £3.50)

Price: £10.00

Additional Information

A vintage collection of one hundred songs and chants. From the beginning we have created music and prayer with bone, wood, horn, skin and voice; our drums were born from the raw fabric of the land, formed by our own hands from the gifts of nature. These words, when read without their music, reflect ancient and shamanic traditions of ritual poetry; celebrating rites of passage, seasonal blessings, cycles of life, journeys in death and many unusual perspectives on the wild earth and our primordial roots. This beautiful book is an excellent retrospective of Carolyn’s early work.




The edge of the world is where I am bound
with a weapon of grace and a fine shield of sound
I can hear a familiar voice close at hand
the primordial song of a northern land
as it races the great sun over ancient snow
the drum beast is older than we can ever know
I’ve heard a journey north is a dangerous one
so ride hard through the skin of the nameless drum.


How strong is the face of a woman’s drum?
how far from the first rhythm have we come?
how solid the resonance of our beat?
how powerful the tread of our feet? YA’KO!
hey ya’ko hey ya’ko nameless drum
hey ya’ko hey ya’ko sweet life drum
hey ya’ko hey ya’ko great world drum
hey ya’ko hey ya’ko this drum


Drum 1




There’s a maiden coming in
moving down through Heron Valley
see the maiden coming in
wearing spring in her hair
silver by the pool
naked in the clear air
tall against the birch
dancer on the damp earth


She’s the catcher of the breeze
she’s the lover of the pale sun
she’s the footstep on the moss
she’s the laughter of the quick stream
silver by the pool


Beneath the lace of winter wood
she throws out her arms and she sings
calling birds behind her
that bring summer on their wings
silver by the pool


Through soft shades and glistening haze
swift she trails her gown of green
her sweet kiss, the rising sap
and her warm hand awakening
silver by the pool


There’s a maiden coming in
moving down through Heron Valley
see the maiden coming in
wearing spring in her hair…