Andromeda

9:09 pm Impro.WAV

If you've ever been hurt by your main squeeze, deceived by your best friend, or down to your last dime and ready to call it quits, this cat has the solution if you have the time to listen.

Ladies and Gentlemen's...and all those who wish to be considered so! Here 'tis! Here goes the greatest remedy for the blues on earth! The results obtained by the use of this track have been phenomenal!

Your enemy cannot harm you, but watch your close friend - Rev. Edward W. Clayborn

I wanted to buy me some cakes but I had shot dice and lost my roll - Blind Lemon Jefferson, Bakershop Blues

"Sweet Singer of the Swamplands Here to Do a Few Tunes between Homicides" - January 3, 1935, headline in the New York Herald Tribune announcing the arrival of Leadbelly

I had to steal music from every which a way to get it... to get it to fit - Willie McTell, intro to The Dyin' Crapshooter's Blues

Some folks dig the swamp blues...I YAM THE SWAMP, Y'ALL !

They tell me God don't like ugly. Said, boy, your home's in hell - Sam Chatmon, God Don't Like Ugly

When Paramount Records got the ol' chap to make this record, they put over a big one for the Blues! He is a blues preacher that knows how to pick and holler! Listen to this a here record right now!

And now, emanating from the Secaucus Lounge of the
Fabulous Fandango Hotel in Weehawken, New Jersey -
We proudly present the celestial melodies of Lou Waxman
And his Orchestra, who ask the age old musical question...

Aunt Caroline Dye she told me,
"Son, you don't have to live so rough"
"I'm going to fix you up a mojo, oh Lord, so you can strut your stuff"
[Go on and strut yo' stuff!]

Originality is way overrated. To make, you need to take. All great artists do
All has not been said and never will be
Only those with no memory insist on their originality

I know my crown gonna fit me well, 'cause tried it on at the gates of hell - Reverend Gary Davis 

'Scuse my cough, I slept in a chicken house last night. - Jesse Fuller

Nothing annoys me more when I'm talking to someone about music and for some reason, they think their opinion is as valid as mine.

We wrote this song, it's our own compose' - Sleepy John Estes, Don't You Want To Know 1941

Uh - but we celebratin' Christmas wrong from the way I look at the matter - shootin' off fireworks, cussin', and dancin', raisin' all other kinds of sand... uh - Death may be your Santa Claus! All of you who are decoratin' your rooms and gettin' ready for an all night dance - Death may be your Santa Claus! Death is on your track and is going to overtake you after awhile - Reverend J.M. Gates

(about Elvis Presley) I wasn't just a fan, I was his brother. He said I was good and I said he was good; we never argued about that. Elvis was a hard worker, dedicated, and God loved him. Last time I saw him was at Graceland. We sang "Old Blind Barnabus" together, a gospel song. I love him and hope to see him in heaven. There'll never be another like that soul brother.--James Brown

I don't play 'em, I stomp 'em. - Bukka White

When you go down on Deep Ellum, keep your carburator clean, 'cause the women on Deep Ellum sell you dirty gasoline - Bill Neely

If I had one biscuit, and you hadn't eaten nothin' in a month, I'd break it in two and eat both pieces - Yank Rachell to Howard Armstrong in Louie Bluie

Here she comes! The Black Diamond Express to Hell with Sin the Engineer holding the throttle wide open; Pleasure is the headlight, and the devil is the conductor. You can feel the roaring of the express and the moanin' of the drunkards, liars, gamblers and other folk who have got aboard. They are hell-bound and they don't want to go. The train makes eleven stops but nobody can get off - Vocalion advertisement for Rev. A.W. Nix's 1927 recording Black Diamond Express to Hell

It must be jelly 'cause jam don't shake like that - Fats Waller

"...When I play-- if you pay attention, what I sing the guitar sings, too. And what the guitar say, I say."--Mississippi Fred McDowell

Truck 'Em On Down

⁂©1-28-2024; Lyrics & Sung by Lady ElectroTrek 
*ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Push Back Your Pride

To The Ground

Look up at the night sky

Titans Ov Earth's Fog

Common Heart Thief

Overlays (final draft)

Light And Shadow (for Cello & Piano)

Photograph (Guitar - Cover)

I consider this to be the first full song I ever wrote.  I had been attempting to write my own stuff pretty much since the day I first picked up a guitar, and had played around with a Tascam 4-track tape recorder for a while.  This however was the first song I recorded using a DAW.  It was also the first to be given a title, terrible cover art, and be put on a CD.  The shitty guitar tone is likely the result of plugging a Boss Metal Zone pedal directly into my computer's sound card.

My brother came up with the title for this song.  It is based on the fact that he would often come back early in the morning after hanging out with friends and partying (and doing the things most young people do), only to find me still sitting in the same place I was when he left, playing my guitar.

Guitar: Ibanez S-series 7 String
Amp: Not sure if I used one, might just be running a Boss Metal Zone direct into the computer because I didn't really know what I was doing...
Drums: Zoom RT-123
DAW: Cakewalk Pro Audio 9

Recorded (1999-2000)
2022 remaster

Blind Willie Dukes, Jr. is the sort of bluesman who, if he didn't exist, seems as if he could almost be made up by a hack novelist. He's been on a chain gang(allegedly), naturally -- in his case, for stabbing a man to death in a juke joint brawl. He has, by his own count, 26 children by five women. And he never picked up a guitar until he was 58 years old (though his age, now approximately 80 years, is a guess at best). Wife No. 5, the story goes, had bought him a guitar as a present, and the thing sat gathering dust until she took off. Willie got himself a gallon of moonshine, picked up the guitar and taught himself to play. That sounds right out of central casting but may well be true, and, if nothing else, the legend looks good on him.

Willie's hard, cutting brand of blues is about as elemental as music gets. Made with his own guitar and the clatterings of a drummer known only as Foot-Tambo. Willie's songs are not so much slices as slashes of life. On his albums-- the titles themselves speak of jealousy, rage, and impending violence--he sings about scenes from his long and storied life: women he's had, or wanted but couldn't have; jobs he's worked at; ass-whuppings he's delivered. But this is no joke, made up just for white-boy punk-rock consumption. He means it. Willie's songs have endured remixing, and you can be damn sure that if, like I do, Dukes thought the track made him sound foolish, he'd probably pull a knife on everyone involved.

"He sounds like two flat tires on a dirt road, tryin' to catch up."--RS

“What I love about playing music (is) because I did my own singing and do my own thing, didn't have to worry about nobody crossin' me.”

Truck 'Em On Down

Blind Willie Dukes, Jr.

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