Al Stewart - Year of the cat

Al Stewart (born Alastair Ian Stewart, 5 September 1945) is a Scottish singer-songwriter and folk-rock musician.

Stewart came to stardom as part of the British folk revival in the 1960s and 1970s, and developed his own unique style of combining folk-rock songs with delicately woven tales of the great characters and events from history.

He is best known for his hit 1976 single "Year of the Cat" from the platinum album Year of the Cat

 Al Stewart: The Year Of The Cat Lyrics

 On a morning from a Bogart movie

In a country where they turn back time

You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre

Contemplating a crime

She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running

Like a watercolor in the rain

Don't bother asking for explanations

She'll just tell you that she came

In the year of the cat

She doesn't give you time for questions

As she locks up your arm in hers

And you follow till your sense of which direction

Completely disappears

By the blue tiled walls near the market stalls

There's a hidden door she leads you to

These days, she says, "I feel my life

Just like a river running through"

The year of the cat

Why she looks at you so coolly?

And her eyes shine like the moon in the sea

She comes in incense and patchouli

So you take her, to find what's waiting inside

The year of the cat

Well morning comes and you're still with her

And the bus and the tourists are gone

And you've thrown away your choice and lost your ticket

So you have to stay on

But the drumbeat strains of the night remain

In the rhythm of the new-born day

You know sometime you're bound to leave her

But for now you're going to stay

In the year of the cat

Year of the cat

Al Stewart - Time Passages

 Al Stewart (born in Glasgow, Scotland on 5 September 1945) is a British songwriter and musician. He is best known for his 1976 single Year Of The Cat and its 1978 follow-up Time Passages (both produced by Alan Parsons). Stewart’s inspiration for his songs primarily comes from the past; indeed, he is credited with creating his own genre, “historical folk rock”. At one time in his life, Stewart took guitar lessons from King Crimson guitarist Robert Fripp. 

Stewart grew up in the coastal resort town of Bournemouth, Dorset. According to Songfacts, in days of youthful folly Stewart played in a beat group with later BBC DJ Tony Blackburn before moving to the capital to seek fortune and fame.

Having bought his first guitar from future Police guitarist Andy Summers, Stewart traded in his electric guitar for an acoustic guitar when he was offered a weekly slot at Bunjies Coffee House in London’s Soho in 1965. From there, he went on to compete at the Les Cousins folk club on Greek Street, where he played alongside Cat Stevens, Bert Jansch, Van Morrison, Roy Harper and Ralph McTell

Although he had his share of the breaks, including a tenure at Bunjees coffee house and a record deal with CBS, life wasn’t always easy for the young troubadour; his first serious love affair ended in disaster, and he experienced all the usual insecurities of the stranger in the big city trying to find his way.

Al Stewart - On The Border

Lyrics On The Border

The fishing boats go out across the evening water

Smuggling guns and arms across the Spanish border

The wind whips up the waves so loud

The ghost moon sails among the clouds

Turns the rifles into silver on the border

On my wall the colours of the maps are running

From Africa the winds they talk of changes coming

The torches flare up in the night

The hand that sets the farms alight

Has spread the word to those who're waiting on the border

In the village where I grew up

Nothing seems the same

Still you never see the change from day to day

And no-one notices the customs slip away

Late last night the rain was knocking at my window

I moved across the darkened room and in the lampglow

I thought I saw down in the street

The spirit of the century

Telling us that we're all standing on the border

In the islands where I grew up

Nothing seems the same

It's just the patterns that remain

An empty shell

But there's a strangeness in the air you feel too well

The fishing boats go out across the evening water

Smuggling guns and arms across the Spanish border

The wind whips up the waves so loud

The ghost moon sails among the clouds

Turns the rifles into silver on the border

On the border

On the border

On the border

Al Stewart - The Year of the Cat