Forgotten Bob - The Turd In The Punch Bowl

We are proud to debut the work of a new artist; Forgotten Bob! We wonder sometimes about a few of our associates and the venues they haunt to find some of these musicians. Forgotten Bob is a mystery as far as his family background and origins, but he's got a musical history that's long and varied. We'll let our associate that found him tell about it:

 I like to haunt dark-lit, out of the way, obscure places where music is played. Bar and grills, dives, holes in the wall, you name it and I've probably been  there or heard about it.  I found the dump that Forgotten Bob was playing in purely by accident. It was down a dark alley, with but one dim, bare bulb lighting the doorway with a sign on it that read:

FREETHINKING ADULTS ONLY! 

Well that was enough for me! There was a few tables in front of a battered bar with an old lady bartender. Men were sitting at the bar, couples at the tables.  The place was dimly lit, save for a small platform at the end of the room. There was a small band tuning up, a bass, drums, keyboard, a guitarist, and an other guitarist at the microphone giving the pitch. He was an older guy, a little weather-beaten. I could tell he'd been playing guitar for a long, long time by the look of his hands; signs of arthritis in his finger joints that had big knots. It took them a log time to tune up, as the guy at the mic kept cussing the others out for not being in tune. Finally, the drummer counted them down and they started. I admit I was surprised to hear what came out; a tight band playing in strict time, with the bass guitar laying down a solid beat. The guy at the mic had a voice that you could tell had been well used, but he sang well enough, and the first song he did was this one - THE TURD IN THE PUNCH BOWL. Well, I liked the performance and the song, so between sets I introduced myself to the band. The only one that spoke was Bob. I asked him what the deal was with the Forgotten Bob business, and he said he used to be heavy into the Punk Rock scene years ago, retired to have a family, and when his eight (!) kids were all grown he decided to try and get back into the business. He couldn't handle the punk scene anymore, and told me there ain't nothin' sadder than a geriatric punk! So he started a band to play whatever they wanted. Rock, Rockabilly, Country, right down the line. He wears his hair really long and piled on top his head. Must take a can or two of hairspray to keep it there because he really moves when he sings! He kept up his chops the whole time he was retired, and he's good!

And that's the low down. Forgotten Bob gave our associate the picture of him we've used, said an artist friend did it for him.

 Never before in our history
A convicted felon got the position
Look up grifter in the dictionary
You'll see his picture, no definition

In the crystal punch bowl of our land
Trump's made a plop like a big ol' TURD
Don't know if his actions we can stand
Or if the country can live past his words

Has lots of trouble making up his mind
First his thoughts are down, then they are up
But I think his problem you will find
He's really got no mind to make up

In the crystal punch bowl of our land
Trump bobs and floats like a big ol' TURD
Don't know if his actions we can stand
Or if the country can live past his words

He uses the office to sell his merch
Like bit coin and imported bibles
Perfume that smells like body stench
Books of wisdom that are just libels

In the crystal punch bowl of our land
Trump taints the punch like a big ol' TURD
Don't know if his orders we can stand
Or if the country can live past his words

How in hell did he survive his past?
Well, had plenty of help in that regard
Could've got rid of him in the past
But his party just saved the retard

He was out of office, steeped in limbo
And his party years later saved him again
With his views and mouth still akimbo
Still got elected to office again!

In the crystal punch bowl of our land
Trump fouls the punch like a big ol' TURD
Don't know if his orders we can stand
Or if the country can live past his words

Don't drink none a that there punch!
It tastes like SHIT!
How can we get past the asshole?
How can we get past the asshole?
How can we get past the asshole?

Buzzy Carlyle - Too Old To Cut The Mustard But I Ain't Too Old To Lick The Jar

 Buzzy Carlyle's new song is in quite a different mood than what's normal for him. He usually sings in a Dela Blues style, but this sees him in a lighter mood. Blues men are notorious for singing about their masculinity and sexual prowess, and for folks that saw him before all of his drug and medical problems, he fit the mold. According to them, his gigs in the old juke joints had a variety of songs with a good number of them bragging about his sexual conquests. After being near death, after open heart surgery, and all the damage his alcoholism and drug use caused, his need for a woman in his life right now is a surprise. He even admits his 'Mojo Don't Mojo No Mo'  (evidently in this case referring to a lack of libido and everything that goes with that), but relates to how he can still keep a woman happy despite that fact.

Buzzy no doubt is a lonely man. He has plenty of company in his senior living facility with blues lovers stopping by to see him, but in this song he admits to missing the presence of a woman in his life. And to Buzzy's mind, if he can't keep a woman  sexually satisfied and happy, no woman would be interested. Of course, seniors have a need for companionship, and if sex in any of its forms makes up a part of a relationship no matter what age, that's great. But isn't necessary.

But Buzzy's been feeling much better of late. People at the home tell us that he smiles more and is easier to get along with. We know he had a sense of humor in his earlier days, so maybe this whole song is just a big leg pull by a veteran blues man who's enjoying his renewed life. We sent an artist to his apartment to capture him in a portrait, (the one seen above) and it's the first picture we've ever seen him in where he's smiling!

 I sure sung 'bout many things
Even 'bout my poor ol' mojo
It happened when I turned ol'
My mojo don’t mojo no mo

So ladies, please keep this in mind
Still admire ya'll near and far
Might be too old to cut the mustard
But I ain't too ol’ to lick the jar

That don't mean I'm dead all the way
Still like to look at the young skirts
Mighty fine wimmens out there
Still can admire 'em and flirt

So ladies, can still take care a you
Still admire ya'll near and far
Cain't do no jumpin' and humpin' no mo
But I ain't too ol' to lick the jar!

I ain't jest a dirty ol' man
I come back mostly from the dead
Health's good as it's a gonna git
Got a little urge in my head

Been without a woman so long
That kind of alone's a sad way
To end all of my days on earth
All alone on my last day

So ladies, please keep this in mind
Still admire ya'll near and far
Might be too ol' to cut the mustard
But I ain't too ol' to lick the jar

Ada Shymore and The Boogie Men - My Boyfriend Gave Me The Clap!

Ada Shymore and The Boogie Men shared an idea they had about doing a song in the style of a 1920's jazz band, and when they asked us here at Big And Tall Records what we thought of the idea, we said go for it! We support our artists as much as we can, and we discovered they had a lot of things worked out already. They had a good idea for the music, Ada was working on the lyrics, but they were having trouble with what kind of arrangement they wanted to do. They knew the general sound wanted, but didn't know how to go about it. They were going to record it at our studio, and as luck would have it, our resident arranger/music historian was available to help!

Big Marv and his wife were taking a break from their catering/music service and he wrapped up the recording of Gershwin pieces. Ada approached him, and he agreed to help. Marv is a good mentor, really helps artists get their vision in their music without taking charge. We knew he'd be a good one, because Ada is very much in charge of the group! 

Didn't take them long to put it together. They got some other musicians to help, a great trombone player named 'No Slack' Quanter along with other instrumentalists to fill out the group. We watched from the control booth as the band (that had swelled to such numbers it pretty much filled the studio's stage) went through multiple takes. The lyrics are all Ada. She's not shy about using profanity, and it does seem to give the song some extra punch. She's in fine voice; yelling, crooning, growling in turn. and the band really gets in the groove!

 I'm just a working girl
Not used to diamonds, pearls
So when he was introduced
I noticed his luxury frills
He asked me what's my name
I told him it was Mame
And then he proceeded
To sweep me off my feet.

But that was a while ago
Now I'm so distraught
I thought he was my beau
Now I'm full of woe and tears
Tell me it just ain't so
He's long gone down the road
And left me a present I know

My boyfriend gave me the clap
It was just a nasty trap
The son of a bitch lied to me
Said there was no one else but me
There ain't no use, just out of luck
I picked the wrong man to fuck

I'm just a working girl
Not used to diamonds, pearls
So when he was introduced
I noticed his luxury frills
He asked me what's my name
I told him it was Mame
And then he proceeded
To sweep me off my feet.

But that was a while ago
Now I'm so distraught
I thought he was my beau
Now I'm full of woe and tears
Tell me it just ain't so
He's long gone down the road
And left me a present I know

My boyfriend gave me the clap
It was just a nasty trap
The son of a bitch lied to me
Said there was no one else but me
There ain't no use, just out of luck
I picked the wrong man to fuck
My boyfriend was no friend at all
Told me we would wed in the fall
But the no good son of a bitch
Skipped town, I've got a hell of an itch!

So now I go see the Doc
And bare my big dumb ass
And get jabbed with a shot
Then this trouble will pass

But I'll still have a broken heart
Ain't no shot for that
All the jewelry he gave me
Is fake, phony and flat
So it's back to being a clerk
Down at the local drug store
No more high and mighty ideas
I'll just walk the floor

My boyfriend gave me the clap
It was just a nasty trap
The son of a bitch lied to me
Said there was no one else but me
There ain't no use, just out of luck
I picked the wrong man to fuck
My boyfriend was no friend at all
Told me we would wed in the fall
But the no good son of a bitch
Skipped town, I've got a hell of an itch!

Big Marv Plays George Gershwin

 Big Marv continues  to surprise us with his ability in so many different styles of music. Here he plays some of his favorite George Gershwin pieces. He gives a short biography and describes the pieces below:

 Gershwin didn't think much about music until he was about ten years old when he heard a friend play a violin recital. His natural abilities took over, and with some lessons and much practice, he became a 'song plugger' in Tin Pan Alley. He sold his first song in 1917 for 50 cents! He went to work for a piano roll company and created an unknown number of rolls for player pianos in his name and others. 

 His first national hit was 'Swanee' in 1919, a song taken up by Al Jolson which created notoriety for Gershwin. He went on to write music for 18 Broadway musicals, 6 scores for films, 1 London musical, and of course in 1924 the famous 'Rhapsody In Blue', 2 operas, and pieces for orchestra. Sadly, he died of a brain tumor in 1937, at only 38 years of age.

 The Man I Love - A song that is in The Great American Songbook, along with many other Gershwin compositions. Written for other musicals but not used until 'Strike Up The Band' in 1927. 

Three Preludes -Gershwin's intention was to write a complete set of 24 Preludes and call it The Melting Pot, and he worked on different ones with these three being the main result and were published in 1926. All three are examples of American Classical Music in the jazz idiom of the 1920's.

Number One - Allegro ben ritmato e deciso (Fast- Well rhythmic, and decisive) - Gershwin's use of traditional Italian tempo and descriptive terms shows how he was intent on writing serious pieces in a classical tradition. The prelude shows influence of Cuban syncopated rhythms, and well as harmonies that while sounding more commonplace to modern ears, were very revolutionary in the 1920's.

  Number Two - Blue Lullaby - Andante con moto (Walking pace, but with motion) - Written in C-Sharp minor, a bluesy prelude. In the second playing of the theme, there is a middle voice that needs to be brought out. Gives the impression of 3 hands playing.  Left hand has some difficult stretches of a tenth, a large hand definitely an asset. Gershwin must have had big hands! Has a middle section with the melody in the bass register of the piano.

Number Three - Spanish - Agitato (Agitated) - Agitated indeed! It's a puzzle for most people why Gershwin named it 'Spanish'! The three preludes ends with a flourish, a very difficult piece with hand crossings and leaps. Written in E-flat minor, the key of E-major has a battle that it finally wins in the end.

In my Modern Music class when I was in school, our teacher started out with two American composers that he said influenced modern music as much as Stravinsky or anyone else; Scott Joplin, and George Gershwin. We had to learn selected Scott Joplin pieces, and the same with Gershwin with the 3 Preludes as mandatory. Both composers taught us about rhythm and technique that stemmed directly from classical composers, as both Joplin and Gershwin knew the classics.

Tugboat Jackson - A Wet Sidewalk Don't Make It Rain

 

Tugboat's refurbished resonator guitar

Our resident blues philosopher Tugboat Jackson's latest laments the liars looking to control the truth to gain power. Tug himself has said, like many others, that whoever controls what is perceived as truth has control over everything else. Tugboat plays a resonator guitar, one he found at a flea market. It was in pretty rough shape but he found a luthier who knew how to work on them. Tugboat shows off his skill on his refurbished guitar to good effect with an intro and an ending. 

In his retirement Tugboat keeps cranking out songs that may make the listener think. His chops seem to be none the worse for wear with age, matter of fact they're getting better. But he doesn't spend all his time thinking up lyrics for his blues songs. He's married, got grown children and grandchildren he loves to spoil, likes  to go fishing (and really doesn't care if they're biting or not). Tugboat and his wife are planning on doing some traveling, sightseeing, and visiting some of the blues men that worked with his Father, the few that are still alive.

 If a lie is told many times
If a lie is told so many times
When political hacks
Use alternative facts
It hides their underlying crimes

Look outside, see it's rainin'
Look out and see it's rainin'
A man with a phone
Says its dry as a bone
Power he's tryin obtainin'

I'll keep singin' the same refrain
A wet side walk don't make it rain
To think it does alters what's true
The lie will keep growin' in you

Keep all the people ignorant
Gotta keep em' all ignorant
Folks that way you see
So easy to create reality
Make it all done deliberate

Liars say the more learnin' folks got
They say the more learnin' folks got
Makes it harder to control
Gotta keep 'em in a hole
Be careful what ya let be taught

Those who tell you what is true
Have control over me and you
So beware of the big lie
Or your freedoms will fly

I'll keep singin' the same refrain
A wet side walk don't make it rain
To think it does alters what's true
The lie will keep growin' in you

Un Grupo de Mexicali - Adiós Amor

 After two political songs, mostly about President Trump, Un Grupo de Mexicali goes back to their heritage and plays an original composition, a love song about a man who has to leave his beloved. As usual, the group plays splendidly and has a special guest singer,  Miguel Cervantes, a singer that performs in many different genres.  The group has kept busy with performances in Mexico since their U.S. tour was cancelled, and they were finally persuaded to get into a studio in Mexico to send us a much anticipated new song!

Te miré bajo la luna
Tu sonrisa era fortuna
Mis manos en tu piel
Todo era tan cruel
Tan fiel

El reloj no se detiene
El destino nos sostiene

Adiós amor
Mi corazón
Te dejo con esta canción
No es por falta de querer
Es el camino que debo hacer

Eyes like the deep sea
Laughter is free
The world to me
But the wind takes my hand
And drags me like a man

Distance my destination
It is my devastation

Goodbye love
My heart...
I leave you with this song
Not for lack of love so strong
It's the path where I belong

Adiós amor...

Mi corazón...
 

Melvin Peckerwood And The Mama's Boys - The Magic Finger

 Another song from Melvin and The Boys about number 47. Not complimentary at all about the Chief
Executive, one of the band members spoke to us on the phone about the bands political awareness:

 "There comes a time when what artists produce reflects their own time, or it doesn't. Our band does play in classic rock style usually, but that doesn't mean we can't make social commentary within that form and tradition. Rock and Roll was originally a form of protest, so we think our recent songs about the present administration are fitting. 

"With many people now conditioned to short soundbites of news relayed by blaring headlines, people's collective memories are short.  It was only a year ago since Trump went through his trials that ended up in 34 felony convictions, and many have forgotten all about them. When (and if) the MAGA regime loses power, a constitutional amendment should be worked on that would prevent a convicted felon from running for president. He fomented a failed insurrection, and was convicted of 34 felonies, yet he still was allowed to run, and the feeling of the country at that time gave him a thin margin of victory. He's been dismantling our entire way of life piece by piece, leading this country to despotism. All in the name of his over-inflated ego and sick mind!"

The man has such small hands
But he's got a magic finger
He uses it on any woman
And complains they all just linger

He doesn't use a pencil or pen
To sign his filth to law of the land
He uses the dirty magic finger
From his grubby, fat little hand

Ink it up! Spit on it!
Make it nasty like you can do
Shove it in! Make it spin!
Do the nasty like you can do

The magic finger was found guilty
In court in a long tedious trial
Where a jury of his peers did find
The woman he truly defiled

He acted the spoiled snot that he is
The Judge tried to take it in stride
But the disgust that people showed in court
Wasn't really something that they could hide

It will not fail! Leave the hangnail!
Let the pussies suffer a lot!
He's just a big ass! With no class!
He treats women like a harlot!

No jail time was pending at all
Just a wallopin' big fine
But if you get elected
To collect they'll have a hell of a time!

The office has its privileges
How in the world does he even rate?
Others say we'll just have to bide our time
Cuz he can't run again in '28

But the magic finger don't discount
He's such a genius, he always wins
He'll wiggle the crusty, stinking thing
And change the law and run again!

But he really ain't got no choice
But to use the magic finger slim
Outside of his big fat nasty mouth
It’s the biggest thing he can put in