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mike@mcgeesplace.com
And so here you have it! “High Plains Celtic”, straight from the Colorado Plateau. No accompaniment, absolute minimum of ornamentation or grace notes, and no vocals. Just the haunting sound of a single stand of pipes, slowly, relentlessly, drawing you deeper and deeper into the swirling harmonics of this magnificent instrument. Pipes, as you might hear them on the winds of a high mesa, or perhaps some Saturday, off in the distance, piping the departed at the local Potter's Field. Pipes, heard in the distance, carried on the wind.
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