This week I took on Anand's assignment to write something with a personal and specific name or image. I was still in bar band mode from last week (shame that the Sedans weren't in the Garage this week to help me with this one!), so I harkened back to (and kinda conflated) two separate times in my life when I spent a good bit of time playing music and carousing down on Burke St. The first was back in the early 90's, when me and my Breakfast Club pals were on the road most of every week, as was Jerry Chapman and Jason LeVasseur, with Life in General. So we'd often convene on Sundays and Mondays - our weekend! - at the Black Bear. The second was in the early-to-mid 2000's, when we'd spend a lot of time up at Rubber Soul, playing and listening to music, along with the other bar-life activities. This is a little bit of lightweight nostalgia, but heck, those were, in fact, great times. I tried to name-check as many pals as I could from those scenes. Sam looms over the whole thing, of course. I wrote a song about 20 years ago that referenced one of our favorite bartenders at the Bear - Tracy - so, I thought it'd be neat to set this song over at Rec, asking one of my current fave bartenders, Cayce, to pour us another round.
lyrics
Well, the payout's hot tonight
On the blackjack machine
Gonna buy myself some drinks
If they'll just deal me a queen
And the deals are going down
In the gentlemen's room
Down here at The Soul
The bride can always find a groom
But I'm just here for those canaries in their cage
Johnny Mac calling up the Manchild to the stage
Does anyone ever realize when they're living in a golden age?
Bourbon at the Black Bear,
Whiskey at the Soul
Sammy's testifyin' and the Rough Band's on a roll
everything changes
Nothing stays the same
But I can hear those Telecasters
Calling out my name
Down on Burke Street
Tommy Rock's holding forth
And Jerry's buying shots
Somebody raise a toast
For the day we buy our yachts
Something kinda girly
With Kahlua in the name
Everybody rolls their eyes
And drinks 'em just the same
Nobody's getting drunk, it's just another Monday night
The pirate ship is rolling out again at dawn's first light
Another 3-hour cruise, just to pay our bar tabs, right?
Bourbon at the Black Bear,
Whiskey at the Soul
Herbivores are screamin', Dirty Dogs down in the hole
everything changes
Nothing stays the same
But I can hear those Stratocasters
Calling out my name
Down on Burke Street
So gather round, you children
Listen to the tale
These old men moaning songs of woe in minor scales
There's no more music, it's all gin and no vermouth
Oh, Burke Street, nailing shut the coffin of my youth
So, Cayce, pour a round, we'llhave another beer
And I confess I can't recall anything so clear
But I will always hold on to those memories so dear
At least I think so
Bourbon at the Black Bear,
Whiskey at the Soul
Muddflapps testifyin' and easy bake is on a roll
everything changes
Nothing stays the same
But I can hear those Les Pauls
Calling out my name
Down on Burke Street
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