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Ok, here is some hot-club type jangle. I wrote this one to go along with the Speakeasy Club gig I play every Friday night. Rowdy, spooky, and get’s the flappers swinging the Charleston 20s. This track has the best solos I’ve ever played. I really sweated these and I’m might’ proud I must confess.
lyrics
Not buying it
not selling
not putting it on loan
not wining it
not dining it
not saying I’ll phone
not bending it
not stretching it
not trying to make it fit
yeah, the best of this
is the mess of it
and this is what you get
no, you can’t have everything you want
but that don’t mean you have to go along
you can have everything you need
if you’re not afraid to make those roses bleed
not wallowing, just polishing
the shine on this cracked shoe
not holding up, not folding up
cuz we’ve got to push on through
not listening to the little voice
deep inside your head
that tells you ain’t good enough
that you ain’t enough, that you’re dead
chorus
one, two, three, four, five, six, seven
all good children go to heaven
eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve
what's this place?
i believe they call it hell
A collection of jazz standards from this Chicago artist recalls the genre’s swing era, with waltzing rhythms and skipping guitars. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 12, 2021