Boxcar Bertha - No City Lights

 Boxcar Bertha spent many years wandering the country, riding the rails when she could, and just plain walking when she had to. She would get a job once in a while to earn some money, and soon as she had a small nest egg, she took off again.  She really loved the life of a hobo, technically a hobo will work when they have to while a bum won't. She had many friends along the way. Some of them gone now, but some visit her at her small apartment now that she retired from the life. Her comments:

Riding the rails was a good life for me, sure isn't for everyone. But I enjoyed the freedom, liked seeing a lot of this big beautiful country with my guitar over my shoulder.  But it's a rough life. After about 30 years, my body is just too worn out to do it anymore. I worked enough to have some money in the bank, and worked enough to get Social Security and Medicare, so I'm better off than a lot of rail riders. Too many of them don't last, die from disease, accident or injury. I'm lucky to have made it this long. One of the things I miss the most is sleeping outside under the stars. I did that a lot, always picked my spot carefully, and when available I'd cut some thin pine branches to lay on the ground under my blankets. The scent of the pine combining with the fresh air, punctuated by all the sounds of night, made for the best sleeps I've ever had. Luckily, the apartment complex I live in has a very nice area, a mini forest that's almost as good as being out in the wild. I got permission from the landlord and told my neighbors about me sleeping outside in the mini forest sometimes. No doubt some of them think I'm not wrapped too tight, especially when I'm out there snoozing away on a cold night. But it helps me to stay grounded, literally, physically, and emotionally.

Her simple guitar accompaniment fits the gentle song, her tribute to sleeping under the stars. 

Ever slept with stars overhead 

In a night as black as can be 

A bed made out of pine boughs 

That conform to your body 

 

No city lights that will invade 

Slumber that is deep and free 

With the scents and sounds of the night 

That refresh your sanity 

 

 All by yourself, but really not 

There's plenty to keep company 

It's a feeling that most forgot 

The earth and all its sympathy 

 

 Don't have to go far aback 

Don't need to take much along 

What you can fit in your pack 

And escape the teeming throng 

 

You'll find a place that's just right 

A spot where you feel you belong 

Your eyes get used to little light 

So just stretch out and sing your song 

 

Mother Earth will cradle you 

Look out at darkness so deep 

Before you know, you'll be all through 

And drift off to a peaceful sleep 

 

 Do your best to learn the lessons 

Of earth and its connections 

To your life, your body, and soul 

It is the mother earth's intention 

To offer you direction To help you be happy...and whole

Toothless Mabel - What Did Ya'll Expect?

 There seems to be a trend here at Big And Tall Records as some of our artists have begun to record songs that state their opinion about the present federal government administration. As an RN, Toothless Mabel has an ongoing concern with the present healthcare situation, and is very worried about projected cuts in health programs for the poor and elderly. But her concern goes beyond that to the entire culture being bred by the administration, and wrote this song to express her concern. She questions the voters that elected the administration asking them what did they expect? After years of observing how Trump operates, why are some shocked about what he's doing? and upset because he lied to them? Trump would rather climb a tree and tell a lie than stay on the ground and tell the truth!

Tell me what in the hell did ya'll expect? 

Tell me what did ya'll really expect? 

The man's an infection, led an insurrection! 

Now do ya'll have any regret? 

 

 Took a hammer to our trade 

Yeah, beat hell out of our trade 

Tariffs a big mess, trade partners confess 

Goods on the shelves they will fade 

 

 He does serve with distinction 

Of 34 felony convictions 

And the overwhelming key to his criminal presidency 

Feeding his money addiction 

 

You say that he's got a great plan 

Yeah, a brilliantly hatched grand plan 

But it all comes to pass He just pulls it out his ass 

Ends up right where he began 

 

Cronies are all crooked like him

 Everyone of them crooked like him 

But if he hollers SHIT! They squat ask how much of it? 

Where'd he find so many like them? 

 

The big beautiful bill just passed 

Anyone voted for it, first to the last

 There's a price that will befell the elephants can go to hell 

And we'll fly the flag at half mast 

 

Many Government employees fired 

Just up and kicked 'em out, they're fired! 

Supreme court the past hour said he had the power 

No explanation required

 

 ICE wearing masks just like thugs 

ICE criminals look like thugs

 Tying people in harness Without due process

 Say all of them crooks pushin' drugs!

 

 The times they are scary for sure 

Man, these times are scary for sure 

But it's time that will overcome all the crooked and dumb 

If we can hang on... and endure...

Gummer Beaudine - Stankey Thang

 Stanky Thang is a cover of a song by Big Marv, and Gummer Beaudine has been trying to get Big Marv to let her do it, and he gave permission under the condition that she record other songs first and establish herself. He thought the song too much for a new recording artist. Truth be told, Big Marv has never been that fond of his own recording. It's the first time he sang on record, and his band had to persuade him and get him half lit on beer before he'd do it. He said they went into the recording studio late one night with just an idea and they improvised until they got something recorded. Of all the recordings he's done, he very seldom sings on a recording or in person. "I'm a damned piano player! Ain't no singer!" he usually says.

As for Gummer Beaudine, she's been playing the song with her band at gigs, and she's found the audience loved it! Roared with laughter, always got a big hand afterwards. "This is my kind a song!", she said. "Cussin', nasty subject, my crowd gets into it!" So when she came to the studio to record it, we made sure to ask if Big Marv was good with her recording it. He said he was. Big Marv was out of town, and we couldn't get him on the phone, so we took her at her word and approved.

Big Marv got back into town the other day, and when he came to the office and found out she recorded it and it was released, he got madder than an old wet hen! We talked him down, told him the recording was doing all right, and he vowed to never give permission for a cover unless he's at the recording session! Gummer seems to be nonchalant about the whole thing, and is enjoying playing the song at the bars the band and her frequent. 

Dang, you got a stanky thang! Don’t ya’ll ever wash it? 

Soap and water don’t cost much for ya’ll to scrub it! 

Dang, you ‘spect any body wanna get close to it? 

Don’t be so lazy, and break down and wash it! 

 

Stankey Thang, no smelly feet can match it! 

Stankey thang, no armpit can top it! 

Ya smell jest like commode ala mode

 Just as rotten as it can be 

 

The stank ya got driftin’ off you is worse than I ever smelt! 

Don’t be so damned lazy and scrape off the crust 

From that funky, stankey ol’ tallywacker! 

 

Stankey Thang, no stench can rise above it 

Stankey thang, take a lot get the funk off of it!

 The stank you got is hard to describe, 

Kinda like a mixture of old dirty socks, mixed with pickled egg farts and dirty jock strap! 

Man your stank ain’t good, like old dead horse cock 

Stirred in with rotten cow livers and 30 day ol’ dog shit! 

 

Stankey Thang, makes my gut retch 

Stankey thang, be a terrible stench! 

Stankey Thang, Stankey Thang, Stankey Thang, Stankey Thang 

 

 I remember when we were just kids, you even stunk then goddam! 

Could smell yer dead little cock all the way down to the dam! 

 

Stankey Thang, no words can really describe it 

Stankey thang, shit would even say that it stinks! 

You got a problem, a body malfunction, or did you shit something already dead? 

 

I try to give you the benefit of mercy, but all I can do is say 'Lord have mercy!' myself! 

Stankey Thang, you cannot ignore it Stankey thang, oh you gotta own it! Yes you do! 

Put yer dang legs together we'll all be grateful if ya do! 

I pity the Doc when you go in for a check up. 

 Raise your arms and the nurse will pass out! 

Doc goes to check on your privates, he'll get halfway there, close your legs. say 

NO FUCKIN' WAY! 

Stankey Thang, 55 gallon drum of soap wouldn't phase it Stankey thang, I'd say you stank like shit, but I ain't got nothin' against shit! Stanky thang.........stankey thang........OOOOO LAWD, STANKEY THANG!!!

 

Tugboat Jackson - What Do You Say, Bobby K.?

 It was bound to happen that Tugboat Jackson would wade into the political fray of current times. He takes aim at the Secretary Of Health And Human Services, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., who has some controversial ideas about vaccinations and other health concerns.  Tug doesn't pull any punches; we contacted him to give us some feedback, but he said it's all in the song, no further feedback needed! 

 

 

 

 

The National health guru 

Has some different beliefs

 Like vaccines cause more disease 

Than cure sickness and grief 

This is from a man who said 

He once had a worm in his head 

He said it shriveled up and died 

But it gotten fat instead 

 

What do you say, Bobby K? 

Think your ideas superior? 

 You drag your name through the slime 

By kissing Trump’s posterior 

 

 Junior also hates fluoride 

Causes cancer, arthritis too 

Adding it to city water 

Is something they shouldn’t do 

He also says that autism

Is an epidemic obscene! 

He vows to find the cause for sure 

(A hint, it’s linked to VACCINE!) 

 

 What do you say, Bobby K? 

Is your logic sound and firm? 

People think that it’s you talking,

 But I think it is the worm! 

 

Junior himself is afflicted 

By a voice hoarse and that strains 

Did he drink too much fluoride? 

Shoot too much H in his veins? 

Oh no! Did he get vaccine, 

That caused his present voice state? 

But I don’t need any science 

To know what caused his voice fate! 

 

 What do you say, Bobby K? 

I’ll say it now and affirm 

The voice area of your brain 

Has been chewed on by the worm!

 

 In the end it doesn’t matter 

The Repubs shoved him through 

The 4 elephant physicians 

Gave him their total approve 

Health has nothing to do with it 

Trump decrees it, they will pass 

He drops his pants, and wiggles 

They all fight to kiss his ass! 

 

What do you say, Bobby K? 

You’ve got a plan to save it! 

But the worm’s still doing well, 

Fills your brain full of it’s shit!

 

 So no more relying on science 

What suits The Donald’s fat ego 

We don’t need no stinkin’ science! 

Don’t need it where we’re gonna go!

 

Buzzy Carlyle - Bring Yo Axe

Buzzy Carlyle continues to improve his health after years of drug use, alcohol, and tobacco use nearly killed him. He lives in a retirement community with attending nurses. Of course all of this costs money, and in the beginning he had not only a Doctor that saved his life throught cardiac surgery, but a devoted blues fan that paid his way. Buzzy's not a big fan of 'bein' on the damn dole' as he says, but the Doctor has committed himself to Buzzy's care for whatever years he's got left. The Doctor is a blues   fan, and helped get Buzzy back playing after all his illnesses.

The word is out, and Buzzy has many visitors. Some of his old blues cronies, some just fans, and some that want to learn  how to play the blues. One of his favorite students is Leroy 'Hambone' Riley. He's already got a local reputation from playing in blues clubs, but he knows Buzzy's got some things to show him. Hambone told us this story about Buzzy as a teacher:

Now ol' Buzzy can be kind of cantankerous, 'specially if you go there to just pick his brains and steal his licks.  I was waitin' in the hall outside his room when he tied into the guy ahead of me. Don't know what he done, but whatever it was pissed Buzzy off big time! Never heard so much cussin' in my life, and I been around some first class swearers! He done everything but bash the guy in the head with his guitar, and the guy threw the door open and 'bout knocked me down as he left. 

Buzzy was still hot, and he told me "Get yo ass in here, boy!" Man, the way he said it just chilled me to the bone. He really wasn't hollerin', his voice was low like a foghorn and his eyes bugged out. I almost turned around and left, was half afraid to go in there. He waved his hand at me and said, "Ya hear me, goddammit! I said get yo ass in here! Ya being yo axe?" Thankfully I had my guitar with me still in its case. So I nodded, picked my guitar up and went it.

Soon as I got in and sat down, he calmed down. "Sorry 'bout pitchin' such a fit, son. Man before you only wanted me to play so he could steal some of my licks. Didn't even hear him play, just kicked him out!" He wheeled his wheelchair c;loser to me and shook my hand. "Now, boy, ply me somethin'. Don't try to impress me, don't be flashy, just be yourself. Gimme an idea what you got inside you."

So I played and sang a song I'd written. When I was done he just waved me to continue. I ended up playing for a solid hour, and afterwards he gave me his opinion, lucky for me most of it favorable!

Buzzy's told us about Hambone, and we're setting up an audition for him soon. 

Young ones come wanna learn the blues 

Some got good enthusiasm 

Some think they know all of the rules 

Damn, they play like they got the spasms! 

 

Some of ‘em gone to music class

 I say more power to ‘em 

I don’t care if they never passed 

I’ll listen and try to help ‘em 

 

The blues is more than the music

 It’s what lies deep within yer soul 

The vibrations of life itself 

Of all of your love that got stole

 

 I ‘member when I was so young 

I was the smartest man on earth! 

Took me a lotta songs I sung 

To make me learn my real worth! 

 

 Ain’t nothin’ at all that could hurt me, 

No addictive stuff would either 

Live through things that happen to me 

I’d stay alive, be a breather 

 

Blues is the thing, kept me alive 

After the Doc done give his all 

The vibrations of life itself 

Of all of the love that you stole 

 

 I invite all of you don’t be shy! 

I got the whole day to relax! 

Can chew the fat, and wonder why 

In my room and compare the facts 

But if ya wanna learn the blues

 I’ll take all the questions you ask 

But one thing that I ask of you 

Don’t forget to bring your axe! 

 

Ya’ll might have to wait in a line 

Seems like lots wanna learn the blues 

But if somebody won’t let ya in 

Tell ‘em Buzzy’s expectin’ you!

Craic Agus Ceol - The Blarney Stone

 The Irish group Craic agus Ceol's latest is an Irish ballad about the Blarney Stone.  The stone is located in Blarney Castle in southern Ireland. The stone is steeped in rich folklore and history, and was set in the wall of a tower of Blarney Castle in 1446. According to the legend, kissing the stone gives the gift of gab to the kisser. The Castle and stone has attracted millions of visitors from all over the world.

To kiss the stone is not the easiest thing to do, as it requires the person to climb 200 stone steps up to its position 85 feet above ground and hang their head over backwards on the edge. There are guardrails to hold onto to assist, and an assistant to support the body. Before the guardrails were installed, the only way the stone could be kissed was by dangling upside down and backwards while someone else held you by the ankles! Even at the present with the guardrails it can still trigger anxiety and stress due to the height.

There's been some questions about how sanitary it is to kiss an old rock after so many have done the same thing.  Staff cleans the stone periodically with disinfectant, but not after each person kisses it. Accordingly, TripAdvisor named the stone the most unhygienic tourist attraction in the world in 2009! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In Éire down southern coast 

Is the town of Cork City 

‘Bout 5 miles outside of town

 Lies the Castle named a Blarney

 In this castle is a limestone 

Built way up into the wall 

A thing folks be puttin' lips on 

To gain the power of it all 

 

Well then kiss me, I'm Irish! 

Green all way to me bones 

If ya cannot go to Ireland 

Be warmer then Blarney stone 

 

To plant you lips on the rock 

Is not a trial that's inferior 

Ye have to clamber up the peak 

The castle wall interior 

Ye have to lay down on yer back 

Grab hold of old iron rails 

While some one holds ye by the boots 

So ye don't end up in a fail 

 

I said kiss me, I'm Irish! 

Green all way to me bones 

If ya cannot go to Ireland 

I'm warmer then Blarney stone '

 

Tis a dauntin' task for sure 

And used to be even worse 

Never had the hand rails up there 

Which made it all quite perverse 

All ye had between tumblin' down 

To fate endin' in tragedy 

With some daft man holding ankles 

To prevent such calamity 

 

 I said kiss me, I'm Irish! 

Green all way to me bones 

If ya cannot go to Ireland

 I'm warmer den Blarney stone 

 

 What do ye gain by kissin' it

 An ancient, dirty old rock?

 'Tis ‘bout a legend anyway

 Which some take in great stock 

But they say it give the kisser 

Ability to not offend 

As your words can deceive 

Without no need to defend

 

 I got the Blarney, I'm Irish! 

Green all way to me bones 

I'll give the blarney trough me lips

 I'm warmer then Blarney stone

 

Big Marv Plays Scott Joplin - Elite Syncopations

 Big Marv with his interpretation of Scot Joplin's Elite Syncopations Rag. He has told us he learned
ragtime from an old ragtime piano player in New Orleans that was a real stickler for playing it the right way. Big Marv tells the story:

I was in High School when I met Clyde Merskin when he played with a band that was the house band of a gin joint. I was underage, but I knew the owners and all the employees and they'd let me in to hear the music, and told me if they ever caught anybody buying me alcohol they'd throw my ass out. Tellin' ya, I was way more into music than booze, so I'd just sip on a sody pop. Anyway, I knew Clyde gave lessons and I asked him if he'd give me some. He agreed, and he told me before my first lesson I needed to get a copy of a small booklet called 'The School Of Ragtime' by none other than Scott Joplin! Clyde told me that ragtime was one of the beginnings of all jazz and modern popular music, and that a lot of players didn't play it like Joplin wanted it played. He went on ranting about that for a while, so I knew it stuck in his craw. I found an old beat up copy of it in the library (this was way before the internet) and studied the six exercises and commentary. Joplin wrote it to help players get the style down, as at the time it was something new.  

I learned one of Joplin's rags for my first lesson too, the same one I play on this recording, Elite Syncopations. I thought I was gonna wow old Clyde, but I hadn't got four bars into it when he stopped me. He had a pencil in his hand, and he made me play the syncopations hands alone while he tapped out the tempo. We did that for the entire lesson, didn't get much further along than the first 12 bars. Now I had heard Clyde play plenty of times, never remembered him being so rhythmically strict. But he told me I had to crawl before I could walk. So it's sunk into my head how to play a Joplin rag with respect towards the composer's wishes. Get that rhythm and that hesitating pulse of ragtime right on the button! Strict time! Some other rag composer's rags I give myself more leeway in, but as for a Joplin rag, no way!