Wooden Kimono, by Pugsley Buzzard

Wooden Kimono

by Pugsley Buzzard

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1.	Aces and eights 04:56	lyrics	buy track
I've had my fill I'm gonna go dip my bill There's good times to be had In this frolic pad Mash me a fin Now gimme some skin I'm overflowing with luck gonna spend some right now This glass jawed gorilla at the door 's Not gonna keep me out Let me in or wear this on your chin This night's too short for this Seven brights, seven blacks In the klink I sat Waitin' for one of you mooks to come bail me out Common assault but it's not my fault I was well oiled and he yanked my chain This glass jawed gorilla at the door's not gonna keep me in Let me out or wear this on your snout I ain't got time for time I put up my scope But I could not see out Couldn't see my way out of this mess Someday you'll be sorry And so will I. Togged up to the bricks with a fine sky piece Ground grippers and spats A watch on a chain I'm frisking my whiskers licking my chops gonna creep like a shadow out into the rain This glass jawed gorilla at the door's not gonna keep me in Let me out or wear this on your snout I ain't got time for time This glass jawed gorilla at the door 's Not gonna keep me out Let me in or wear this on your chin This night's too short for this Mash me a fin Now give me some skin
2.	Chained 05:37	lyrics	buy track
Well I'm chained to this world. Hell I'm chained to this world. I dragged my dry bones across this hostile plane. And I'm wrestling alligators in my dreams. Wrestling alligators In my dreams. There's a whole lot of scrapeing going on. There's a whole lot of scrapeing going on. Kow tow, kow tow, kow tow. Lord. Lift me up from these grasping hands I pray. And I'm wrestling alligators in my dreams. Wrestling alligators In my dreams. Well I scorched my bones on that fire. Sold my soul to the voodoo queen. I been bashed and rolled and robbed. For some change. And I'm wrestling alligators. Wrestling alligators In my dreams.
3.	Digging man's blues 05:16	lyrics	buy track
Well I dug that old hole. Lord! And I sweat a little tear too. Dug with my magic shovel. Dug through stone and gravel too. Dug me my resting place. So when my digging is done. I can lay me down. Safe from the vultures and the sun. Well that black old vulture. Lord! He's not gonna get a piece of me. Unless he does some digging. Under that shady old tree. Now I done my time. And I paid my dues. With blood and sweat and some tears. And I done a little digging too. Now I dug my way to china. Dug up a can of worms. Dug up a ladies tears. A pandora's box of fears. And I lost my magic shovel. Could do no digging no more. My money all turned to debts. I'm ready to jump down that hole.
4.	Black Dog 05:13	lyrics	buy track
When the omens is bad And there's gremlins in the works Better keep yoursel locked up at home It's overkill but works ‘Cause if it wasn't for that night When I ignored all the signs Wouldn't be here suffering now Everything’d be alright Black dog Black Dog I wasn't drinking no Sir I just swerved to miss a black dog Black Dog Well it was a dark old night Blacker than the inside of a bear And it was raining like the apocolypse Couldn't see nothing out there And I was coming up on a bend At the bottom of a hill Wasn't the devil's liquor made me kill It was an accident I swear Black dog... Now they say it was a family of nine Two kittens and a new born baby. The old lady was just out of the hospital And the old man was crazy on the lord! Those children could of growed up to be doctors Did you think of that when you put your foot down on that pedal. I says I'm innocent I swear And if they'd grown up to be lawyers you'd be giving me a medal Black Dog Well that there's the story Of how come I'm sittin here with you boy. Rottin’ in this three by four cell Nothin’ but a shell And I sit here in my squalor Thinking what might of been If I'd a stayed home that night Everything'd be alright ‘cept for that Black Dog
5.	Wooden Kimono Blues 05:06	lyrics	buy track
Furniture rains into the cobblestone street Old ladies stand in their doorways and cross themselves Churchbell rings Schoolgirl sings: "Good deeds and god's mercy will wash away my sins." Stop your cryin'. This world it ain't fair. Stop your cryin'. You know this world it ain't fair. Whatcha doin' in that gutter son? Tryin' to break your fall? You can't get much lower now. Doin' that cockroach crawl. Doin' that cockroach crawl. Streetcars shriek on their steal tracks Black smoke drifts from the chimney stacks. There's rules been made There's lines been crossed And so I'm here to discourage other folks gettin' lost. Stop your cryin' This world it ain't fair Stop your cryin'. You know this world it ain't fair. Why are ya crawlin' in that gutter son? It can't help you now. Things've been set in motion. Can't turn that clock back now Can't turn that clock back now It's just my job. I don't think about it much. Just do my work collect my pay. Don't rightly know who's behind it all. Who decides who lives and who pays. Just try and think 'bout your favourite place. You know I don't really like this city's cruel pace. If it were up to me I'd be someplace quiet. Nothin but the birds, my feet up by a fire. Stop your cryin' This world it ain't fair. Stop your cryin' You know this world it ain't fair. Whatcha doin' in that gutter son? Tryin to break your fall? (Well) you can't get much lower now. Doin' that cockroach crawl. Doin' that cockroach crawl. Better comb ya hair son. Smoke that last cigarette Make your peace with your god now. Ain't got much time left. Ain't got much time left. Your sufferin' soon will end.
6.	Cold Wind 06:12	lyrics	buy track
Headlights in the distance. The night is dark the moon is hid. He rides with his blind driver And a paraletic priest. He's going to his mountain, His little hill in the east. The windows are black And you can't see in. Some say he's a vampire With his monkey on a leash. Some say he practices voodoo And at night he files his teeth. Some say he's the devil's middleman Buying up lost souls He takes them down the swamp Where he swaps them all for gold. Cold wind blow... Some say he controls the weather. The stock market too. He's got no feet. But he owns a million pairs of shoes One for each person that he takes down that swamp. He floats around his castle Gnawing on their bones. Cold wind blow... Headlights in the distance. The night is dark, The moon is hid. Dead leaves a swirling around your feet. He pulls up beside you. The window rolls down. "Hey there son! Would you like a lift back into town?" Cold wind blow...
7.	Stuck between a rock and a hard place polka 04:16	lyrics	buy track
When I land in the poorhouse. Can I sleep in your bed? Will I scrounge like a doormouse When my gold turns back into lead? Will I wind up in trouble? When the dream fades Will they burst my bubble? Trust in trust. Have faith in faith. Tomorow is an elusive waif. If this moment isn't safe, Then what is? Engine driver pump the bellows. Drive this car out of the mire. Take us to the promised land. Or at least from the frying pan to the fire. And so we toast to our deserted dreams There's a heaven too for Gypsies, thieves and queens. We'll smash our glasses on the floor and dance. There may not be a second chance. When I land in the poor house. Can I sleep in your bed? It's either that or the jailhouse. Where they'll leave me to rot till I'm dead. All my life has been trouble. When I gambled I made it double. Crack of Whips and the Sherriff's Gauntlet Thrown down at our feet. The Burgermeister wants us out. And the next won't let us in. It's a strange marriage: Me and my companions in this carriage. Engine driver pump the bellows. Drive this car out of the mire. Take us somewhere we can hide. We have to beat the Sherriff's wire. These seats 'll make a tasty stew. We'll burn the window panes for some heat. And when we land in this smoking wreck The station guards won't hold us back. What blind monkey drives this wreck? Remind them to ask them for my money back. And all the liquor will soon run out. And all mayhem will break out. the dining car is filled with clowns. Nowhere to go they'll drive us to the ground. The band's on fire. We're not lost or found. And the tigers have broken out.
8.	Big Al's Gal 03:03	lyrics	buy track
She looked so cute in her chinese suit She can walk the talk and talk the walk You know your heading for the danger zone when you hear that voice comin' down the phone You'll soon find out who's your pal When you start runnin round with big Al's gal She said " Come on baby we can meet tonight Share martinis, a flim flam life. Don't you worry your little head 'bout a doggone thing Big Al's gone we gonna rock and swing." You'll soon find out who's your pal When you mess around with Big Al's gal. It's a lesson to be learned If you play with fire your gonna get yerself burned. You'll be pushing daisys up on a hill, Wearing concrete slippers, Sleeping with the fishes. We did the Suzie Q and the monkey bop We danced all night till she blew my top Sure gonna be some hell to pay When Big Al's boys come take me away.
9.	Sunnyside Up 05:39	lyrics	buy track
Two eyes googling right at ya. Like eggs in a frying pan. Can't look at him sideways As he oggles you up and down. Well he's the best safe-man in the business. Can get his fingers into any pie. And for the right fee he'll snatch it for ya. And that ain't no lie. Mr Sunnyside up Sunnyside up. Well he may be an ugly monkey. Hell! He's been thrashed with the ugly stick. He's all out of proportion. His hair's an oil slick. Traincrash face, drooling mouth and he's blinder than a bat. But he's a man of many talents. With a bankroll in his hat. Mr Sunnyside up. We'll live the high life. Get some spending done. Then we'll do some drinking. Have a little fun. We'll meet ourselves some ladies. When the sun is going down. Make a little ooh la la!!! turn the whole town upside down. Sunnyside up.
10.	Desert Waves 15:40	info	buy track

about

If you've ever wondered how a pile of newly-poured bitumen feels just before the steamroller flattens it, Pugsley Buzzard's music will fill you in. There is something inexorable about the progress of that massive, sand-blasted voice and those rolling piano figures; something undeniable about the dark images crowding the lyrics; something dangerous about the snarling guitars, growling horns and clawing rhythms.
Pugsley is both a throwback to a smoky era of whores and pimps and crims, and a devout modernist, reminding us all of the eternal power of big voices, acoustic instruments and players who really mean what they have to say. Listen to Adam Simmons' monumental baritone saxophone on the menacing Black Dog, for instance and be afraid; be very afraid.
Yet for all its inherent theatre, this is heartfelt music that can sweep you into its shady world, and have you flirting with a little good ol' fashioned evil, or smiling at the sly wit - just before it flattens you.

John Shand, author of Jazz - The Australian Accent and music critic for The Sydney Morning Herald.

credits

released August 23, 2016

Pugsley Buzzard: Voice, Piano, Vibraphone, Percussion
John Stuart: Guitars, Steel Guitar, Banjo, Tumbadora, Chekere, Percussion
Anthony Howe: Drums
Brett Hirst: Double Bass
Adam Simmons: Soprano, Tenor and Baritone Saxophones, Bass and B flat Clarinets.
Neill Duncan : Soprano and Tenor Saxophones, Whistle, Honkers and Flexitone.
Sam Golding: Valve and Slide Trombones
Nathan Ford: Tuba
Bill Dudley: Trumpet, Flesh Percussion

Produced by John Stuart and Pugsley Buzzard
Horns arranged by John Stuart
Recorded and mixed by John Stuart
Recorded at Sound Heaven Studios, Wentworth Falls, New South Wales.
November 2009 – March 2010
www.soundheaven.com.au
Mastered by Micheal Lynch at Sound Heaven Studios
All songs by Pugsley Buzzard Wateringcan except “Big Al’s Gal” by Geoff James and Pugsley B. Wateringcan and “Desert Waves” by Pugsley B. Wateringcan and John Stuart.
Special Thanks: Baiba James, Geoff James, Yasmine Child, Trapper, Bill Dudley and Ian Bloxome
Artwork by Artprint
Photos by Damien Baker and Rita Neves

license

about

Pugsley Buzzard Berlin, Germany

The hippeningest, happeningest, piano mashingest hoodooman hipster of the funkological piano this side of where it's at daddio! Big voice, chunky piano, red hot bands and sassy horns. Intriguing multidimensional songs. Pugsley has played all over from New Orleans to Berlin and beyond and originates from the deep deep south. That's Australia folks. Come and get your cures all ills musical elixir. ... more