The Countertop Chronicles

Getting ready for shotgunning season around here. Doves and Resident Goose open up Labor Day weekend, Teal is September 15. Dogs back down to training this week for a month, while I’ll be stepping up the skeet shooting in preparation.

This was played once, in an acoustic set on 12 July 1970, and is also on Pigpen’s “home tapes” (which is where the lyrics below are taken from).

Bring Me My Shotgun
Words and Music by Lightnin’ Hopkins

Go, bring me my shotgun, bring me back some shells
Why don’t you just bring me my shotgun
Bring me back about a pocket full of shells
Well you know if I don’t get myself a little competition
You know there’s gonna be some trouble ’round here

Well you know my mama told me, when I left my door
She said, “you gonna have bad luck, son, don’t care where you go”
So why don’t you bring me my shotgun
Bring me back a pocket full of shells
Well you know if I don’t get myself a little competition
You know there’s gonna be some trouble ’round here

Early in the morning when the sun gonna rise
She’s laying there rolling them old bloodshot eyes
In the morning bring me my shotgun
Well, I can stand any mess for a while
But I can’t stand it for very long

Woke up this morning
Found out some [jack strap?] had gone took my room
Woke up this morning
Found out some [jack strap?] had gone took my room
Yeah you know he took along with it my woman
That [jack strap?] going to meet his doom

That’s why I say bring me my shotgun, boy
I want you to bring me back some shells
I said why don’t you bring me my shotgun
Bring me back a pocket full of shells
You know if I don’t get myself some good competition
There’s gonna be some trouble ’round her

The Allman Brothers Band
1973 - Macon, Georgia

With Chuck Leavell

I posted about him playing with the Second Amendments the other night. Most of the press, and attention to him, focused on his role as the touring keyboardist for the Rolling Stones. Of course, he was pretty damn rocking long before that . . . coming on originally for the Brothers and Sister’s album taking the place (on piano) of the departed Duane Allman in the Allman Brothers. Here he is talking about how they came up with Jessica from that album

Of course, one could argue (one will argue) that from an American perspective, Jessica is really why Rock and Roll was invented.

Lyrics?? Who needs lyrics. This is the Allman Brothers were talking about!!!

Of course, there is a second part to this post . . . .and thats to quote this NY Times article on Chuck and how he incorporates hunting as an active part of the management of his land.

For Mr. Leavell, hunting is an integral part of responsible land stewardship. Voracious herds of deer need constant thinning, and hunters, like tree huggers, he points out, are important allies in the battle for land preservation.

Stick that in a hippy Vegan the next time they attack you for hunting.

For Tam

I couldn’t agree more

When The Levee Breaks
Words and Music by Kansas Joe McCoy and Memphis Minnie

If it keeps on rainin’, levee’s goin’ to break, (X2)
When The Levee Breaks I’ll have no place to stay.

Mean old levee taught me to weep and moan, (X2)
Got what it takes to make a mountain man leave his home,
Oh, well, oh, well, oh, well.

Don’t it make you feel bad
When you’re tryin’ to find your way home,
You don’t know which way to go?
If you’re goin’ down South
They go no work to do,
If you don’t know about Chicago.

Cryin’ won’t help you, prayin’ won’t do you no good,
Now, cryin’ won’t help you, prayin’ won’t do you no good,
When the levee breaks, mama, you got to move.

All last night sat on the levee and moaned, (X2)
Thinkin’ about me baby and my happy home.
Going, going to Chicago… Going to Chicago… Sorry but I can’t take you…
Going down… going down now… going down….

Abbadon posted about Space Fucking and that of course necessitated a killer concert clip of Deep Purple playing Space Trucking at Hofstra in 1973.

I always loved that band . . . what first got me into them though was Perfect Strangers . . . their comeback song from 1984 - eight years after first breaking up (when I was 5) with what I still think is one of the coolest sounding refrains/unlikely choruses ever.

And if you hear me talking on the wind
Youve got to understand
We must remain
Perfect strangers

From there, I quickly made the connection to Ozzy and Led Zeppelin (who were already faves . . . .) and it just took off.

Can you remember remember my name
As I flow through your life
A thousand oceans I have flown
And cold spirits of ice
All my life
I am the echo of your past

I am returning the echo of a point in time
Distant faces shine
A thousand warriors I have known
And laughing as the spirits appear
All your life
Shadows of another day

And if you hear me talking on the wind
Youve got to understand
We must remain
Perfect strangers

I know I must remain inside this silent well of sorrow

A strand of silver hanging through the sky
Touching more than you see
The voice of ages in your mind
Is aching with the dead of the night
Precious life (your tears are lost in
Falling rain)

And if you hear me talking on the wind
Youve got to understand
We must remain
Perfect strangers

UPDATE

Crap, disabled embedding. Go hear to view/listen. Its worth it.

Heh! Here it is live!

Yeah, no Dead today.

We ended up going to the Greek Taverna in McLean for Dinner Saturday night. The Greek Taverna is in the same building as Ocean M, where VCDL held one of their Saslaw Open Carry dinners. It also has a great picture - which they recently placed in a more promonient position - of armed Greek freedom fighters. We pulled into the parking lot there and saw a Maserati.

Whats the connection between guns and Maseratis?

Ted Nugent - with a face like a Maserati.

Wango Tango
Words and Music by Ted Nugent

All right! It’s zee Wango, zee Tango
1-2-3-4
Come on boys
Time to Wango

My baby she like to rock
My baby she like to roll
My baby she can dance all night
My baby got no control
She do the Wango Tango

My baby she can scream and shout
My baby she can move it out
My baby she can take a chance
My baby got a brand new dance

Wango Tango
Wango Tango
It’s a Wango Tango
Ooooh yeah! (oooooh..)
Baby!

My baby like to rock
My baby like to roll
My baby like to dance all night
She got no control
She do…

Wango Tango
Wango Tango
Wango Tango
Ooooh yeah! (oooooh..)

Yeahhhhhhhhhh!
Baby! Baby! Baby! Ooooh I like the way you look baby
You look like you’re made for me honey
If you wanna take a little chance
I’m gonna show you a new dance
Baby I gotta Wango down one time with you honey
I like it, I like it, I like it, I like it, I like it
Well, it’s a brand new dance
Yeah been sweepin’ the nation
I said a brand new dance
A rock ‘n’ roll sensation
Yeah I like it baby, I do it every night
I got to do it ‘cos I like it so much
Oh honey believe it baby
You see it’s a crazed gyration of the rock generation
It’s my motivation to avoid the nauseation, frustration
When I need some lubrication - Baby!
Kinda like, goes kinda like this
You take her right ankle out
You take her left ankle out
You get her belly propped down
You get her butt propped up
Yeah lookin’ good now baby
I think you’re in the right position now baby
Yeah but if you ain’t quite ready I’ll make sure everything is a little bit nicer ‘cos
I’m gonna get a little talcum
I’m gonna borrow it from Malcolm
Yeah you look so good baby I’m startin to drool all over myself
I got the droolin’, droolin’, get all wet, salivate, salivate
I got salivate late, salivate late, salivate late
Got salivate, salivate, salivate, salivate, heh heh heh
Yeah you look so good baby, I like it, I like it, I like it
You know what I been talkin’ about honey
It’s a nice dance, we gotta a nice dance goin’ here
Now what you gotta do, I’ll tell you what you gotta do
You got to pretend your face is a Maserati
It’s a Maserati
It’s a Maserati
It’s a gettin’ hotty
It’s a Maserati, Maserati, Maserati
It’s a fast one too man, that thing’s turbocharged
You feel like a little fuel injection honey?
I’ll tell ya about it, I’ll tell you about it
I’ll check out the hood scoop
I gotta get that hood scoop off, shine and shine and buff
I gotta buff it up, buff it up, buff it up, buff it up, buff it up,
Yeah, shiny now baby, heh heh heh
You’ve been drivin’ all night long
It’s time to put the old Maserati away
So you look for a garage, you think you see a garage
Wait a minute, Hey!, there’s one up ahead
And the damn thing’s open
Hello! Get in there!

Is my baby alive? (Is my baby alive?)
Is my baby alive? (Is my baby alive?)
Is my baby alive?
She Wango’d to death

Wango Tango (Wango Tango)
Wango Tango (Wango Tango)
Wango Tango (Wango Tango)
Wango Tango (Wango Tango)
Wango Tango
Wango Tango
Wango Tango
Wango Tango
Wango Wango
Tango Tango
Wango Wango Wango Wango
Tango Tango Tango Tango

For Chris Byrne

22 Acacia Avenue

If you’re feeling down depressed and lonely
I know a place where we can go
22 Acacia Avenue meet a lady that I know
So if you’re looking for a good time
And you’re prepared to pay the price
Fifteen quid is all she asks for
Everybody’s got their vice

If you’re waiting for a long time for the rest to do their piece
You can tell her that you know me and you might even get it free
So any time you’re down the East End don’t you hesitate to go
You can take my honest word for it she’ll teach you more than you can know

Charlotte can’t you get out from all this madness
Can’t you see it only brings you sadness
When you entertain your men don’t know the risk of getting disease

Some day when you’re reaching the age of forty
I bet you’ll regret the days when you were laying
Nobody then will want to know
You won’t have any beautiful wares to show any more

22, the avenue that’s the place where we all go
You will find it’s warm inside the red light’s burning bright tonight

Charlotte isn’t it time you stopped this mad life
Don’t you ever think about the bad times
Why do you have to live this way
Do you enjoy your lay or is it the pay

Sometimes when your strolling down the avenue
The way you walk it make men think of having you
When you’re walking down the street
Everybody stops and turns to stare at you

Beat her mistreat her do anything that you please
Bite her excite her make her get down on her knees
Abuse her misuse her she can take all that you’ve got
Caress her molest her she always does what you want

You’re running away don’t you know what you’re doing
Can’t you see it’ll lead you to ruin
Charlotte you’ve taken your life and you’ve thrown it away
You believe that because what you’re earning
Your life’s good don’t you know that you’re hurting
All the people that love you don’t cast them aside
All the men that are constantly drooling
It’s no life for you stop all that screwing
You’re packing your bags and you’re coming with me

New Potato Caboose
Lyrics by Robert Petersen, music by Phil Lesh

Last leaf fallen;
Bare earth where green was born.
Black Madonna, two eagles hang against a cloud.

Sun comes up blood red;
Wind yells among the stone.
All graceful instruments are known.

When the windows all are broken
and your love’s become a toothless crone,
when the voices of the storm sound like a crowd,
winter morning breaks;
you’re all alone.

The eyes are blind,
blue visions are all a seer can own
And touching makes the flesh to cry out loud.
This ground on which the seed of love is sown.
All graceful instruments are known.

Alligator
Words by Robert Hunter and Ron McKernan

Sleepy alligator in the noonday sun
Sleepin by the river just like he usually done
Call for his whisky
He can call for his tea
Call all he wanta but he
can’t call me

Oh no
I been there before
and I’m not comin back around
there no more

Creepy alligator comin all around the bend
Talkin bout the times when we was mutual friends
I check my mem’ry
I check it quick yes I will
I check it runnin
some old kind of trick

Oh no well I
been there before
and I ain’t a comin back around
there no more
no I’m not

hung up waitin’ for a windy day
Hung up waitin for a windy day
Tear down the Fillmore,
Gas the Avalon

Ridin down the river in an old canoe
a bunch of bugs and an old tennis shoe
out of the river all ugly and green
the biggest old alligator that I’ve ever seen
teeth big and pointed and his eyes were buggin out
contact the union, put the beggars to route
screamin and yellin and lickin his chops
he never runs he just stumbles and hops
just out of prison on six dollars bail
mumblin at bitches and waggin his tail

Alligator runnin round my door (4x)

Alligator creepin round the corner of my cabin door
He’s comin round to bother me some more

Another Weird Tune

Greatest Story Ever Told
Lyrics by Robert Hunter; Music by Bob Weir

Moses came riding up on a guitar
His spurs were a-jingling, the door was ajar
His buckle was silver, his manner was bold
I asked him to come on in out of the cold
His brain was boiling, his reason was spent
He said if nothing was borrowed then nothing was lent
I asked him for mercy, he gave me a gun
Said Now n’again these things just got to be done

Abraham and Isaac
sitting on a fence
You’d get right to work
if you had any sense
Y’know the one thing we need
is a left-hand monkey wrench

Gideon come in with his eyes on the floor
Says: Y’ain’t got a hinge, you can’t close the door
Moses stood up a full six foot ten
Says: You can’t close the door when the wall’s caved in
I asked him for water, he poured me some wine
We finished the bottle then broke into mine
You get what you come for, you’re ready to go
It’s one in ten thousand just come for the show

Abraham and Isaac
Digging on a well
Mama come quick
with the water witch spell
Cool clear water
where you can’t never tell

where we continue to explore the role of firearms within the music of the Dead

Stagger Lee
Lyrics by Robert Hunter

1940 Xmas evening with a full moon over town
Staggerlee met Billy DeLyon
and he blew that poor boy down
Do you know what he shot him for?
What do you make of that?
‘Cause Billy DeLyon threw lucky dice,
won Staggelee’s Stetson hat

Baio, Baio, tell me how can this be?
You arrest the girls for turning tricks
but you’re scared of Staggerlee
Staggerlee is a madman and he shot my Billy dead
Baio you go get him or give the job to me

Delia DeLyon, dear sweet Delia-D
How the hell can I arrest him when he’s twice as big as me?
Don’t ask me to go downtown - I wouldn’t come back alive
Not only is that mother big but he packs a .45

Baio Delia said just give me a gun
He shot my Billy dead now I’m gonna see him hung
She waded to DeLyon’s Club through Billy DeLyon’s blood
Stepped up to Staggerlee at the bar
Said Buy me a gin fizz, love

As Staggerlee lit a cigarette she shot him in the balls
Blew the smoke off her revolver, had him dragged to city hall
Baio, Baio, see you hang him high
He shot my Billy dead and now he’s got to die

Delia went a walking down on Singapore Street
A three-piece band on the corner played “Nearer, My God, to Thee”
but Delia whistled a different tune…what tune could it be?

The song that woman sung was Look out Staggerlee
The song that Delia sung was Look out Staggerlee
The song that woman sung was Look out Staggerlee
The song that Delia sung was Look out Staggerlee

Video is from the ‘93 spring tour, Chapel Hill. North Carolina was always home to great shows, and even though they were in the downward spiral at this point, they do not disappoint.

For years, in response to Juan Non Volokh’s (now Jonathan Alder) Sunday Song Lyric, I’ve presented an on and off Monday Song Lyric.

Well, I really enjoy that. But I also enjoy guns. And the Grateful Dead. A lot. So I figured, what better way than to combine all of them and present you Grateful Dead lyrics that involve guns and there are a ton - which isn’t surprising considering they are more than just mere hippies, but rather astute chroniclers of the American experience.

I sort of like this description

I have several friends who refer to the Grateful Dead as the best “American band of all time.” Not necessarily the best band that happened to come from America, but the best band to take America’s roots music: bluegrass, the blues, jazz, appalachian folk-songs and distill it into a wild and beautiful psychedelic mess. I happen to agree with them.

Today’s first installment -

Loser
Lyrics by Robert Hunter

If I had a gun for every ace I’ve drawn
I could arm a town the size of Abilene
Don’t you push me baby cause I’m moaning low
You know I’m only in it for the gold

All that I am asking for is ten gold dollars
I could pay you back with one good hand
You can look around about the wide world over
You’ll never find another honest man

Last fair deal in the country, sweet Suzy
Last fair deal in the town
Put your gold money where your love is, baby
Before you let my deal go down

Don’t you push me baby
because I’m moaning low
I know a little something
you won’t ever know
Don’t you touch hard liquor just
a cup of cold coffee
Gonna get up
in the morning and go

Everybody’s bragging and drinking that wine
I can tell the Queen of Diamonds by the way she shine
Come to Daddy on an inside straight
I got no chance of losing this time
No, I got no chance of losing this time

Dosed or not, that’s there is just gorgeous.

So, Uncle doesn’t like Billy Joel’s Piano Man. Thats too bad.

Its a great song, and a stellar album. One of his best (at least in the running with Glass Houses, 52nd Street or Turnstiles or The Stranger - wow, what a slew of fantastic late 70s music!!).

But if he doesn’t like Piano Man, he really ought to give the two killer songs on the album (yes, I don’t have the CD, I have the LP which I’ve had since I was 6 or 7 years old) a listen: Captain Jack (total knock you off your ass rocker - about as bleak a portrayal of wasted suburban youth as your ever gonna hear) and The Ballad of Billy The Kid.

Captain Jack
Words and music by Billy Joel

Saturday night and you’re still hangin’ around
Tired of living in your one horse town
you’d like to find a little hole in the ground,
for awhile..

So you go to the village in your tie dyed jeans
And you stare at the junkies and the closet queens
It’s like some pornographic magazine
And you smile

Captain Jack will get you high tonight
And take you to your special island
Captain Jack will get you by tonight
Just a little push, and you’ll be smilin’

Oh yeah,…

Your sister’s gone out, she’s on a date
You just sit at home and masturbate
Your phone is gonna ring soon, but you just can’t wait
For that call

So you stand on the corner in your New English clothes
and you look so polished from your hair down to your toes
Ah but still your fingers gonna pick your nose
After all,..

Captain Jack will get you high tonight
And take you to your special island
Captain Jack will get you by tonight
Just a little push, and you’ll be smilin’

So you decide to take a holiday
You got your tape deck and your brand new Chevrolet
Ah, there ain’t no place to go anyway
What for?

So you got everything, ah, but nothing’s cool
They just found your father in the swimming pool
And you guess you won’t be going back to school
Anymore.

Captain Jack will get you high tonight
And take you to your special island
Captain Jack will get you by tonight
Just a little push, and you’ll be smilin’

So you play your albums, and you smoke your pot
and you meet your girlfriend in the parking lot
Oh but still you’re aching for the things you haven’t got
What went wrong?

And if you can’t understand why your world is so dead,
why you’ve got to keep in style and feed your head
Well you’re 21 and still your mother makes your bed,
And that’s too long

Captain Jack will get you high tonight
And take you to your special island
Captain Jack will get you by tonight
Just a little push, and you’ll be smilin’

Captain Jack will get you high tonight
And take you to your special island
Captain Jack will get you by tonight
Just a little push, and you’ll be smilin’

The Ballad of Billy The Kid
Words and Music by Billy Joel

From a town known as Wheeling, West Virginia
Rode a boy with a six-gun in his hand
And his daring life of crime
Made him a legend in his time
East and west of the Rio Grande

Well, he started with a bank in Colorado
In the pocket of his vest, a Colt he hid
And his age and his size
Took the teller by surprise
And the word spread of Billy the Kid

Well, he never traveled heavy
Yes, he always rode alone
And he soon put many older guns to shame
And he never had a sweetheart
And he never had a home
But the cowboy and the rancher knew his name

Well, he robbed his way from Utah to Oklahoma
And the law just could not seem to track him down
And it served his legend well
For the folks, they’d love to tell
‘Bout when Billy the Kid came to town

Well, one cold day a posse captured Billy
And the judge said, “String ‘im up for what he did!”
And the cowboys and their kin
Like the sea came pourin’ in
To watch the hangin’ of Billy the Kid

Well, he never traveled heavy
Yes, he always rode alone
And he soon put many older guns to shame
And he never had a sweetheart
But he finally found a home
Underneath the boothill grave that bears his name

From a town known as Oyster Bay, Long Island
Rode a boy with a six-pack in his hand
And his daring life of crime
Made him a legend in his time
East and west of the Rio Grande

Here’s the backstory on the video

Mr Blue Sky
Lyrics by the Jeff Lynne

Sun is shinin’ in the sky,
There ain’t a cloud in sight
It’s stopped rainin’
Everybody’s in a play
And don’t you know
It’s a beautiful new day.

Runnin’ down the avenue,(Pant, Pant, Pant)
See how the sun shines brightly
In the city on the streets
Where once was pity,
Mr. Blue Sky is living here today.

(Chorus:)
Mr. Blue Sky, please tell us why,
You had to hide away
For so long where did we go wrong.

Hey there Mr. Blue
We’re so pleased to be with you
Look around see what you do,
Everybody smiles at you.

Hey you with the pretty face,
Welcome to the human race
A celebration Mr. Blue Sky’s
Up there waitin’ and today
Is the day we’ve waited for

(Chorus)

Mr. Blue you did it right,
But soon comes Mr. Night,
Creepin’ over, now his
Hand is on your shoulder,
Never mind I’ll remember you this way.

(Chorus)

And here’s the Electric Light Orchestra in their giant haired glory.

Perhaps the best Ozzy Osbourne song, ever.

Mr. Crowley, what they done in your head
(Oh) Mr. Crowley, did you talk to the dead
Your lifestyle to me seemed so tragic
With the thrill of it all
You fooled all the people with magic
(Yeah)You waited on Satan’s door

Mr. Charming, did you think you were pure
Mr. Alarming, in nocturnal rapport
Uncovering things that were sacred, manifest on this earth
(Oh)Conceived in the eye of a secret
Yeah, they scattered the afterbirth

Mr. Crowley, won’t you ride my white horse?
Mr. Crowley, it’s symbolic of course
Approaching a time that is classic
I hear that maidens call
Approaching a time that is drastic
Standing with their backs to the wall

Was it polemically sent?
I wanna know what you meant
I wanna know
I wanna know what you meant, yeah!

Halloween at Radio City Music Hall.
Here’s the INSANE setlist.

Will Zoombabooobablooombababooey post this stellar show???

Franklin’s Tower
Words by Robert Hunter; music by Jerry Garcia

In another time’s forgotten space
your eyes looked through your mother’s face
Wildflower seed on the sand and stone
may the four winds blow you safely home

Roll away … the dew
Roll away… the dew
Roll away… the dew
Roll away… the dew

You ask me where the four winds dwell
In Franklin’s tower there hangs a bell
It can ring, turn night to day
Ring like fire when you lose your way

Roll away… the dew . . .

God help the child who rings that bell
It may have one good ring left, you can’t tell
One watch by night, one watch by day
If you get confused just listen to the music play

Roll away… the dew . . .

Some come to laugh their past away
Some come to make it just one more day
Whichever way your pleasure tends
if you plant ice you’re gonna harvest wind

Roll away… the dew . . .

In Franklin’s Tower the four winds sleep
Like four lean hounds the lighthouse keep
Wildflower seed in the sand and wind
May the four winds blow you home again

Roll away… the dew
Roll away… the dew
Roll away… the dew
Roll away… the dew
You better roll away the dew