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Now here ya come baby With yer tail draggin’ the gravy Y’ know yer P’s ‘n Q’s What ya don’t know baby Is you givin’ me the blues Ya got juice on your chin Eggs on the drain-board Pie on the wall Dirt on the rug I come home late ‘N I stumbled ‘n swore Ya won’t even give me a hug Ya had my things all laid out by the door I’m leavin’ I’m gonna take up with ah mermaid ‘N leave you land lubbin’ women alone ‘N leave you land-lubbin’ women alone Ya said ya had it together once Now yer head’s aroundRead More →

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For many years, a classic performance of I’m Gonna Booglarize You Baby from German television show Beat Club in 1972, circulated among fans. Then in 2012 the full 29 minute performance was released on DVD by Gonzo Media as The Lost Broadcasts but very rapidly became unavailable again once more. However, some of it is available to view on YouTube; the whole band are just incredible here and it’s hard not to be dumb struck by some of the vocals: DVD track list Mascara Snake (Bass Solo) Click Clack 1 Click Clack 2 Golden Birdies Band Introductions I’m Gonna Booglarize You Baby 1 I’m Gonna BooglarizeRead More →

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She serves me flowers ‘n yams ‘N in the night when i’m full She brings me white jam ‘N I don’t know where I am In the meadow she brings me Like ah bee she stings me ‘N I don’t know where I am Clouds clingin’ to us ‘N the sun lookin’ through us ‘N in the night when I’m full She brings me white jam ‘N I don’t know where I am (1972) Originally made available at Justin Sherill’s Home Page Replica.Read More →

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When it blows its stacks He ain’t nowhere t’ be found When ah wolf’s claws wear way down Better watch out there’s ah man eater around Hide all the women in town When it blows its stacks All you girls make no mistake He’s as cold as ah snake sleepin’ in the shade He takes um out Out on an iceberg Hand ’em ah Ronson ‘n says I’ll see you around When he straighten up They all bend down He don’t bow t’ bad water He don’t pussy foot around When it blows its stacks He ain’t nowhere t’be found (1972) Originally made available atRead More →

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There ain’t no Santa Claus on the evenin’ stage There ain’t no way t’ pull the curtain ‘N hide from hunger’s rage There ain’t no town t’ stop in There ain’t no time t’ stop in There ain’t no straw for my horse There ain’t no straw for my bed There ain’t no comfort in cold boards There ain’t no rumours or food for my stomach ‘N someday I’m gonna be saved ‘Cause I gotta eat ‘n drink ‘n breathe ‘n sleep ‘N I’m ah slave Down in hominy’s grotto there’s ah soul die’n ‘n leavin’ Every second on the evenin’ stage There’s ah soulRead More →

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Said the momma t’ the baby in the corn You are my first born You shall here on in be known as The Spotlight Kid ‘N the mornin’ cry of the rooster The baby lay alone ‘N the old cow in the green grass Shed white tears in the red hot sun ‘N The Spotlight Kid stood under the moon that evenin’ Givin’ her alibis ‘n eatin’ her a la modes ‘N the ice cream man searchin’ high ‘n low For his a la modes foe his a la modes ‘N the green frogs croakin’ around his abode ‘N the mud cat pond by theRead More →

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Two lips in a haystack And the moon up above It’s dark and you’re blushing Aren’t you my love The crickets are fiddling About in the night They’re playing a sweet song Kiss me tonight Kiss me my love Kiss me my love Let the man in the moon Tell of our love Two lips in a haystack And the moon up above It’s dark and you’re blushing Aren’t you my love (1971) Transcribed by Ben Waters Recorded October/November 1971 – The Spotlight Kid outtake – unreleased. Also known as ‘Two Lips in a Haystack’ or ‘Two Rips in a Haystack’. A cover version byRead More →

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The moon was a drip on a dark hood ‘N they were drivin’ around ‘n around Vital Willy tol’ Weepin’ Milly I’m gonna booglarize you baby I’m gonna booglarize you baby If I can find ah place t’ park my machine Out ah town Milly tol’ Willy come on over t’my house I’ll slow your machine right down ‘Cause listen Vitals gives me the Willies Drivin’ around ‘n around Drivin’ around n’ around If you keep beatin’ around the bush You’ll lose your push If you keep beatin’ around the bush You’ll lose your push The moon was ah drip on ah dark hood TheRead More →

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Into the sun in my glider There’s a shadow beside her Up ‘n’ down through the blues Clouds give me my silent cues I’m up in my glider With a shadow beside her It begins to rain on her window pain Up in my glider There’s no shadow beside her Thundering ‘n’ lightning Gettin’ pretty frightenin’ I feel like an outsider Then the sun shows through ‘n’ right on cue There’s a shadow beside her Up ‘n’ down through the blues I’m up in my glider ‘N’ I’m telling you boys there ain’t no noise ‘N’ me and my baby ain’t never gonna bring myRead More →

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You know how it feels When you’re layin flat on your back And they’re puttin’ flowers (up) on ya Down on Funeral Hill That’s where there ain’t no Boss Man Cuz you finally paid your bills Nobody there’s gonna scrape at your behind Cause if they do you know they’re haunted and workin’ overtime You don’t have break for the rooster, spill your blood in the sun Hide from the moon until the villain comes You swear with the sky there ain’t no mad man gonna spat in your eye.. up there Ain’t no pretty woman gonna shoot up your feet And ask you toRead More →

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Carry me and my baby to colored land Drink paint run run Drink paint run run When the sun goes down, we’ll be done Drink paint run run Drink paint run run Pick up ypur glass, baby, ‘n’ look me in the eyes We’ll drink paint, toast our love in the sun Drink paint run run Carry me and my baby to colored land Drink paint run run Drink paint run run When the sun goes down, we’ll be done Drink paint run run Drink paint run run Carry me and my baby to colored land Drink paint run run When the sun holds handsRead More →

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Two trains Two railroad tracks One goin’ ‘n the other one comin’ back There goes my baby on that ole train I say come back come back baby come back Click clack click clack There’s my baby wavin’ her handkerchief down My ears stand up when I hear that sound This time it sound like it’s for keeps Click clack click clack I get down on the ground With the gravel around I pray t’ the Lord That the train will stop Turn right around ‘N never stop till it drop my baby off Now I had this girl Threatened ‘n leave me all theRead More →

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All you ever do is blabber ‘n smoke There’s ah big pain in your window ‘N all your waters turn t’ rope It gonna hang you all Dangle you all Dang you all If you don’t hurry there will be no hope Why don’t you quit actin’ like ah dope All you ever do is blabber ‘n smoke It don’t matter where you got your start Which side of your head you wear your heart Clean up the air ‘N treat the animals fair I can’t help but think you treat love like ah joke Time’s runnin’ out ‘N all you ever do is blabberRead More →

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Recording details Date – Autumn 1971 Studio – The Record Plant, Los Angeles Producer – Don Van Vliet Engineer – Phil Schier Musicians Don Van Vliet – vocals, harmonica Bill Harkleroad – guitar Mark Boston – bass Elliot Ingber – guitar Art Tripp – drums, marimba, piano, harpsichord John French – drums Rhys Clark – drums (Glider only) Some of the musicians featured on the album were featured in individual paintings and poems on the sleeve. Track list I’m Gonna Booglarize You Baby White Jam Blabber ‘N Smoke When It Blows Its Stacks Alice in Blunderland The Spotlight Kid Click Clack Grow Fins There Ain’t NoRead More →

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1972 UK Original on Reprise K44162 With lyric sheet 1972 German Original on Reprise REP44162 High gloss cover. White Label Trade Sample with “Unverkäufl” (not for sale) “Warenprobe ohne Wert” (sample without value) “Echantillon gratuit” (free sample in French) on centre label – with lyric sheet Standard issue – with lyric sheet 1972(?) Australian Original on Reprise(?) MS 2050 by CBS Records Australia Ltd(?). (CBS MX 166199/200) White Label Sample Record with NOT FOR SALE SAMPLE RECORD Any person offering this record for sale renders himself liable to prosecution under the Copyright Act 1912-1950 printed in violet on centre label (side 1) and on backRead More →

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More undiluted examples of Captain Beefheart’s singular genius can be heard on his “Trout Mask Replica” and “Lick My Decals Off” albums, but this pair of 1972 albums-packaged together here-are his most innately pleasurable. Had Howlin’ Wolf been raised beside the canals of Mars, he might have sounded like Beefheart (a.k.a. Don Van Vliet), who mutated the blues with Dadaist lyrics, jagged guitar lines and spasmodic rhythms that showed his disdain for what he called the “mama heartbeat” of rock music. Striking many as chaotic hippie noise, his music, for the diligent listener, mirrored nature in its complex patterns and disquieting beauty. With “The SpotlightRead More →

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Captain Beefheart is about six years ahead of his time; his early material was cut in 1965 and still sounds advanced today. The main influences on him are Delta country blues and John Coltrane’s mystical jazz. His voice has a four-octave range, which means he can peak at skyscraper high notes and comfortably descend to guttural monotones. Combined with his personality, his music and his voice will either fascinate you or send you screaming into the woods. He plays word games, sometimes getting triple meanings through puns, and his material is basically good-natured and wildly imaginative. In conversation the Captain is distant and intimate atRead More →

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“Said the Mama to the baby in the corn/’You are my first-born/That shall hereon in be known/As the Spotlight Kid.’” That’s how the title song of this album begins, and one glance at the picture on the cover — Cap natty in Las Vegas jacket, with a knowing almost-smile on his face — reveals a man with the self-understanding and self-confidence to bill himself as a new-generational hero with no false pride. And make no mistake, it is definitely to the new audience, the ones that teethed on feedback and boogie, that Captain Beefheart belongs. He has been called everything in the past from aRead More →

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Who’s the greatest white blues singer in America today? Shame on you if you said John Hammond or Dave Van Ronk or maybe Kate Taylor. If you said Van Morrison, you get half credit ’cause he used to be (or maybe quarter credit since he’s only an honorary American). Half credit for Ry Cooder too, cause he’s working on it. If you said David Clayton-Thomas, bite your tongue. Hard. If you got really weird and came up with somebody like Bernie Pearl, kindly stop reading this publication at once. And no, it’s not Sammy Davis, Jr., and if somebody out there is clinging to theRead More →