Tugboat Jackson - Whose Fault Is It Now, Mr Brown?

 We've heard that this recording is Tugboat Jackson's first one after he decided to turn over his hardware store to his son and retire, at least semi-retire. He's going to work a few days a week to help his son with the transition, plus he wants to still wait on customers. As he puts it:

Naw, I just can't up and quit, although money wise I could. Been doin' it for too long, got some customers that I've been giving service to for 30 years, and I'm gonna need to ease out of it. Quittin' cold turkey would probably kill me! So me and my boy have an agreement that I help out at the store in busy times and when he's labor short. Gives me way more time for music, and since I've laid down a few songs, seems like ideas are poppin' into my head left and right for new ones! So I'm lookin' forward to workin' with you at Big And Tall Records, and appreciate all you've done for me.

Tugboat Jackson

Some of our associates paid a visit to his hardware store, and they related that it's just like the old time hardware stores that have everything under the sun in them. All different sizes of screws, nails, nuts, bolts, right on down the line. And Tugboat knows where everything is at, right down to the smallest screw! 

Mr. Jenkins song gives us pause to wonder about the proverbial Mr. Brown he asks the question to, who is he? We think we get the message of the song, so give a listen and see if you can too. It's not a tough mystery at all...

Whose fault is it now, Mr. Brown? 

“It's the powers that be,” he growled. 

“But it sure in hell ain’t me!,” he howled, 

Just whose fault is it now, Mr. Brown? 

 

The Times newspaper story today, 

Pointed fingers all directions 

War, famine and insurrections 

Got what they deserve! they say. 

 

 “Things are better,” politicians said.

 “See anyone starvin’?” they bark, 

“You must have missed the mark,

 “The streets ain't piled with the dead!!" 

 

Law and ethics be dryin’ up. 

They tell me, “Always the same palaver! 

This country’s like a cadaver!”

 It’s your puny brain dryin’ up!” 

 

 I’m old, won’t have to struggle much more. 

The generations to come 

Be the ones to succumb, 

They’re the ones we should worry for. 

 

Be like it was in the old West. 

Anybody gives us lip, 

Use six guns on our hip, 

See which one of us is best. 

 

Have colonies in outer space, some day. 

Still won't bother to think,

 make outer space stink! 

Just like we did to earth in our day.