AKA Earworm Central. "Keptin! They put creaturesin our bodies!"--Chekov
If you're gonna have a folder about beer, you gotta have some tunes.
My life flows on in endless song
above earth's lamentation.
I hear the real, through far-off hymn
that hails a new creation.
Through all the tumult and the
strife I hear that music ringing.
It sounds an echo in my soul, how
can I keep from singing?
Sparky and I saw this young man play in October. I recommend you check the MP3s on the CD part of his page and then purchase his albums. He's great.
http://www.justinking.com/cds.htm
Un-freaking-believable.
Like Leo Kotke meets Stanley Jordan - with a sense of humour.
If there was a futures market for artists, I would buy an option on him.
"Whoooooo
lives in a pineapple under the sea"
Take it, Frosti!
(it's because of you that I know the words to this thrice-damned song, you know)
Absorbant and yellow and porous is he!
Tonight the bottle let me down
It let your memory come around
The one true friend I thought I'd found
Tonight the bottle let me down
I've always had a bottle I could turn to
And lately I've been turnin' every day
But the wine don't take effect the way it used to
And I'm hurtin' in old familiar ways
Tonight the bottle let me down
It let your memory come around
The one true friend I thought I'd found
Tonight the bottle let me down
Each night I leave the bar room when it's over
Not feeling any pain at closing time
But tonight your memory found me much too sober
I can't drink enough to keep you off my mind
Tonight the bottle let me down
It let your memory come around
The one true friend I thought I'd found
Tonight the bottle let me down
Ohmy.
Ok then, a little oldtime for you:
Gonna build me a log cabin
on a mountain so high,
So I can see Willy,
as she goes walking by.
Chorus:
Oh, the cuckoo, she's a pretty bird,
Lord, she warbles as she flies;
She'll never say cuckoo
Till the fourth day of July.
Well I played cards in old England
And I've gambled over in Spain,
And I'll bet you ten dollars
That I'll beat you next game.
My horses they ain't hungry
And they won't eat your hay.
I'll drive home just a little further
Wondering why you treat me this way.
Oh, the cuckoo she's a pretty bird.
Lord, she warbles as she flies.
She'll cause never more trouble
And she'll tell you no lies.
There's one thing that's been a puzzle
Since the day that time began:
A man's love for, for his woman
And her sweet love for her man.
<edit> changed to reflect the appalachian version instead of the british one.
Hmmm, that's a new one to me. Is that "amie-music"?
It is. You'll get to hear the version from Clarence Ashley And Doc Watson: The Original Folkways Recordings, 1960-62.
Eventually.
<edit> Actually there's a sample on that Amazon page.
Darn it, The Bottle Let Me Down is still earworming me. I thought posting the lyrics here would exorcise that demon. Off to a 2 hour meeting with that song still in my head...
Hee!
Yes, haha, very funny. I'm suffering here.
Maybe we need to have you singin' "Swinging Doors."
No thanks Andy. Your avatar and tagline have taken care of the earworm nicely. Thanks!
I told the witchdoctor I was in love with you...
Aw, bless Frosti's heart.
<edit> Damn, missed again.
Missed what again?
You banished your earworm, so I shouldna tease you about it.
I'm finding that this earworm is particularly tough to shake (The Bottle, not Ooh, eeh, ooh ah ah). However, I'm leaving work now with a new copy of Traceby Son Volt for my listening pleasure on the commute home, so hopefully that will take care of things.
(male vocalist)
I rode into town, barely alive
smelling like a barroom and an overnight drive.
You were so sweet to take me in,
clean me up and be my new friend.
It was 6 in the morning before we fell asleep
exhausted from making promises that we'll never keep.
(female vocalist)
Yeah you were a mess, lost and alone
but you seemed alright so I took you home.
Last thing I expected on a slow Sunday night
was to cuddle and coo you by the working man's light,
and when the sun started puching the stars from the sky
I rolled over and ignored it because I can't stand goodbye.
(both)
You live in a town so far away it would be stupid to say, "I love you."
And I don't know when I'll be back again
the least I could do was love you.
(male)
Baby, oh baby this ain't no joke
when I think of your body it puts a lump in my throat.
(female)
I know what you mean I'm still aching inside,
it's been months now and I still get tongue tied.
(both)
When I think of the things we did on the floor
it just makes me want you all that much more.
But you live in a town so far away it would be stupid to say, "I love you."
And I don't know when I'll be back again
the least I could do was love you.
But you live in a town so far away it would be stupid to say, "I love you."
And I don't know when I'll be back again
the least I could do was love you.
Very nice. I don't recognize the artist(s) though - who is it?
I've still got Brown-Eyed Women and Red Grenadine on semi-permenant ear-worm repeat in my head, Frosti - from the concert we went to, believe it or not. That was in what, August?
"The bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean
Sound of the thunder with the rain pouring down
and it looks like the old man - is getting on"
Amy Nelson and the Supersuckers.
Nice. But seriously, now.
Would I kid?
Yes.
The sunlight's gonna fade,
You and me, we'll divvie up the wine.
Like everything else here,
Yours and mine.
Pickin' up the paper,
The coffee's been made.
It's Book Review and Face the Nation time.
Two in the same mind,
Yours and mine.
Ohh, good one.
<looking for my FoW cd>
I haven't heard that one. Little different than Stacy's Mom.
This chore I've taken on
I must see it through
Tonight I'll go all the way
For getting you
Even though I've tried escape
My mind keeps running back
Maybe this bottle is
The courage that I lack.
The spirits in my head
Should scare the ghost away
But if I find this choice I made
Seems to be in vain
The memory doesn't dwell inside
My fragile mind
awakens from it's hiding place
Deep within the wine.
Break the glass and you'll appear
Inside my mind
Drink it down and unlock the door
I'm setting free
The genie in the wine.
The years you've haunted me
Are etched around my eyes
The truth that I want you back
Shows through my disguise
It's time to face the fact
To hell what others say
I'd rather have some misery
Than your memory gone away.
Break the glass and you'll appear
Inside my mind
Drink it down and unlock the door
I'm setting free
The genie in the wine.
The more I drink
The more I think
About you and your charms
Even though you done me wrong
I long to be in your arms.
Chesapeake, from the album Rising Tide.
Very nice amie. I like it without having heard the music.
What style is it? I'm guessing somewhat Cowboy Junkieish.
I don't know the Cowboy Junkies (I realize this is a character flaw). There's a lot of dobro or steel guitar, bluegrass (or really newgrass) licks. The singer is a classically trained opera guy, and has a wonderful voice.
I can't find a sample of this song, but you can hear some of Chesapeake's stuff at Amazon. They're split now. Mike Auldridge and Jimmy Gaudreau went back to Seldom Scene and T Michael Coleman backs Doc Watson a lot. (he was raised with Merle) I dunno what the vocalist, Moondi Klein is doing now.
Cool, thanks. More stuff to look into - Frosti old bean, you getting this down for research? :)
Cowboy Junkies are worth looking into, IMO. Don't know as I'd go so far as to say not knowing them makes for a character flaw. You're quite a character as it is.
Their vocalist Margo Timmins has one of those haunting voices. They do a nice cover of Blue Moon that I like, but mostly original stuff.
She hates my mama
She hates my daddy too
She loves to tell me
She hates the things I do
She loves to lie beside me
Almost every night
She's no lady she's my wife
The preacher asked her
And she said I do
The preacher asked me
And she said yes he does too
And the preacher said
I pronounce you 99 to life
Son she's no lady she's your wife
And I can't remember
How I met her
Seems like she's always just been hanging here off my right arm
And I can't remember
How I ever
Thought that I just couldn't live without a woman's charm
And even though
She loves the smell of French perfume
And even though
She walks around in high-heel shoes
All I know
Is I'm the one who pays her price
Man she's no lady she's my wife
And I can't remember
How I met her
Seems like she's always just been hanging here off my right arm
And I can't remember
How I ever
Thought that I just couldn't live without a woman's charm
Yea she hates my mama
She hates my daddy too
She loves to tell me
She hates the things I do
She loves to lie beside me
Almost every night
She's no lady she's my wife
--Lyle
Right, research, gotcha. The Cowboy Junkies also do a nice cover of VU's Sweet Jane.
SUN COMES UP, IT'S TUESDAY MORNING
(Michael Timmins)
Sun comes up, it's Tuesday morning
hits me straight in the eye
guess you forgot to close the blind last night
Oh, that's right, I forgot, it was me
I sure do miss the smell of black coffee in the morning,
the sound of water splashing all over the bathroom,
the kiss that you would give me even though I was sleeping,
but I kind of like the feel of this extra few feet in my bed
Telephone's ringing, but I don't answer it
'cause everybody knows that good news always sleeps till noon
Guess it's tea and toast for breakfast again
maybe I'll add a little T.V. too
No milk! God, how I hate that
Guess I'll go to the corner, get breakfast from Jenny
She's got a black eye this morning, `Jen how'd ya get it?'
she says, `Last night, Bobby got a little bit out of hand'
Lunchtime. I start to dial your number
then I remember so I reach for something to smoke
and anyways I'd rather listen to Coltrane
than go through all that shit again
There's something about an afternoon spent doing nothing
Just listening to records and watching the sun falling
Thinking of things that don't have to add up to something
and this spell won't be broken
by the sound of keys scraping in the lock
Maybe tonight it's a movie
with plenty of room for elbows and knees
a bag of popcorn all to myself,
black and white with a strong female lead
and if I don't like it, no debate, I'll leave
Here comes that feeling that I'd forgotten
how strange these streets feel
when you're alone on them
Each pair of eyes just filled with suggestion
So I lower my head, make a beeline for home
Seething inside
Funny, I'd never noticed
the sound the streetcars make as they pass my window
Which reminds me that I forgot to close the blind again
Yeah, sure I'll admit there are times when I miss you
Especially like now when I need someone to hold me
but there are some things that can never be forgiven
and I just gotta tell you
that I kinda like this extra few feet in my bed
I do like their version of Sweet Jane as well.
Here's a whole slew of their albums and song titles - I have a few of them.
http://www.geocities.com/SunsetStrip/Palms/7573/lyrics.html
Oh yeah - they also cover Neil Young's Powderfinger - in a version that makes me wonder how Neil could have got it so wrong!
Copy The Trinity Sessions for me, wouldja?
Would if my burner worked, freaking computer is on the blink again. If I used it much, I would be really torqued. I can bring it over and lend it to you until such time as you have free time to burn it though. I also have the Caution Horses one - but it sounds like you already have that. I have an old dubbed tape of Black Eyed Man and Whites Off Earth Now. :)
I'd like Caution Horses too, but I didn't want to seem greedy. I'm having similar burner issues, and overall issues with the PC. And I'm apparantly too stupid to figure out how to burn on the laptop. The wife tells me it's possible, but...
The dirtiest Rolling Stones song you never heard, Cocksucker Blues:
Well, I'm a lonesome schoolboy
and I just came into town
Yeah, I'm a lonesome schoolboy
and I just came into town
Well, I heard so much about London
I decided to check it out
Well, I wait in Leicester Square
with a come-hither look in my eye
Yeah, I'm leaning on Nelsons Column
but all I do is talk to the lime
Oh where can I get my cock sucked?
Where can I get my ass fucked?
I may have no money,
but I know where to put it every time
Well, I asked a young policeman
if he'd only lock me up for the night
Well, I've had pigs in the farmyard,
some of them, some of them, they're alright?
Well, he fucked me with his truncheon
and his helmet was way too tight
Oh where can I get my cock sucked?
Where can I get my ass fucked?
I ain't got no money,
but I know where to put it every time
Yikes. Good thing they didn't do that one on the Sullivan show - they would have got lynched.
Open up the sky
’cause I’m coming up to you
So send down your wings
It’ll bring me to you
You know I’m standing at the station
Ready to go
Big ol’ airplane, you know I trust in you so
Get on up big bird
To my baby, love
Get on up big bird
To my baby, love
Get on up big bird
I got to make it heard
Get on up big bird
I got to make it heard
Get on up!
Way down here
You up there
Well we know is
Is it ain’t no fair
You know I’m standing at the station
Ready to go
Big ol’ airplane, you know I trust in you so
Get on up big bird
To my baby, love
Get on up big bird
To my baby, love
Get on up big bird
I got to make it heard
Get on up big bird
I got to make it heard
Get on up!
A simple piece of hard ground
Outside of a small town
That's been in his family for years
The pain and the hurt
Turned the hard rocks to dirt
But was it worth the sweat and the tears?
His life is as tough
As his hands are rough
There's no dream that burns in his eyes
With his spade in southern soil
Diggin up the ghosts of southern toil
They'll haunt him til the day he dies.
More Chesapeake, last two verses of Nothin Ain't a Lot, from the album Pier Pressure.
The Week Of Living Dangerously
(Steve Earle)
I got out of work and I headed for the neighborhood beer joint
I sat around and had a beer with the boys like I always do
Well I didn't have nothin' to say anyway there ain't no point
There's just something 'bout a Monday that always makes me blue
Well it was well after dark so I knew my wife and kids were waitin'
And I guess I took a left where I generally take a right
Well I filled her up with gas, checked the oil at the Texaco station
I threw the car seat in the dumpster and headed off into the night
Woo-ohh-ooh-ooh-ooh
There's somethin' 'bout a Monday that always makes me blue
Well I headed south on 35 hell bent for vinyl
I hadn't never had her up past 55 before
Well somethin' 'bout that little red line always looked so final
Buddy you'd be surprised how fast a Chevrolet truck can go
Well, I walked into the Cadillac bar and I laid my cash down
I said "there's plenty more where that came from" and the lights went out
Well I woke up in a county jail 'cross the line in Laredo
With a headache and a deputy staring at me through the door
Well he said "Now how you got across that river alive, I don't know
But your wife just made your bail so now you're really dead for sure"
Now my wife, she called my boss and cried so I got my job back
And the boys down at the plant, they whisper and stare at me
Yea well my wife can find a lot of little jobs to keep me on the right track
Well, but that's a small price to pay for a week of living dangerously
Yeah-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-wee
That's a small price to pay for a week of living dangerously
<trying to still beating heart>
Goddang, amie, whose photo are you using as your gif there?
I really enjoy Steve Earle. I woke up yesterday singing Copperhead Road for no apparent reason.
That's me, Sparky. All dolled up.
I don't usually look like that.
"That's me, Sparky. All dolled up." (That's what I thought. )
I loves me some Steve Early too. When my sister first started playing him for me, I was still a little ah, shall we politely say contemptous of anything even remotely twanging of country. I didn't like it. Then a college room-mate bought Copperhead Road, and it was all over. The short hairs still rise up every time I think about that howling intro to that album - used to play that so loud that Frosti could probably hear it in the dorm, and he lived several floors above. :) Hard to believe how far we can come in a short time.
I love Copperhead Road cause I grew up playing "revenuers and moonshiners" instead of "cops and robbers" or "cowboys and indians".
"revenuers and moonshiners" Heh.
I admire Mr. Earle's way of twisting the knife, reflecting reality in sharp counterpoint to the cultural blueprint.
Yes. He's an excellent songwriter.