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ZOOT SUIT

by JUDGE SMITH

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    Also includes two .pdf files: One of the original CD illustrated booklet with full lyrics, and a second file of detailed notes on each track.
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1.
Weird Beard 02:41
WEIRD BEARD Do you dig the beat? Well it's reet complete. Does it go, man, go? Solid, Daddio! Weird Beard - My baby love Juliette Grecco Weird Beard - My baby love Jean Paul Sartre Weird Beard - My baby love Modern Jazz, now Weird Beard - My baby love Abstract Art. Beatnik, Beatnik, dirty scruffy Beatnik! They shout as we go by Beatnik, Beatnik, dirty scruffy Beatnik! To my Beatnik love and I. When the others say, “No, No, No!” My baby says - Go, man, go! Weird Beard - My baby wear big dark glasses Weird Beard - A duffel coat and a black beret Weird Beard - My baby have a cigarette holder Weird Beard - We sit around and talk all day. Beatnik, Beatnik, dirty scruffy Beatnik! They shout as we go by Beatnik, Beatnik, dirty scruffy Beatnik! To my Beatnik love and I. When the others say, “Now, Now, Now!” My baby says - Yeah, like wow! Weird Beard - My baby so intellectual Weird Beard - But I love her anyhow. We walk the Left Bank holding hands The Seine reflects the sky above She says it’s existential, I say it's love... I say it's love... Dig the drummer’s chops! They’re the mostest, Pops. As hip as Kerouac, He’s beatific, Jack! When the others say No, No, No, My baby says - Go, man, go! Weird Beard - My baby love leatherwork sandals Weird Beard - My baby love Abstract Art Weird Beard - My baby love Juliette Greco Weird Beard - My baby love Jean Paul Sartre My baby love Jean Paul Sartre My baby love Jean Paul, Jean Paul, Jean Paul Sartre.
2.
I'm Through 03:34
I’M THROUGH I’m through with always being pleasant I’m through always believing what I’m told I feel l like a bolshie adolescent Who’s somehow grown grotesquely old I’m through with ‘I must persevere’. I’m through with striving for success I’m through with my soi-disant ‘career’. God knows I’m through With everything but you. I’m through with always slaving on some epic For which demand will never match supply I’m through with my protestant work ethic Just want to sit and watch the sky. I’m through, I’m resigning, I’m rebelling. I’m through, I’m walking off the field of play. I hope the universe can hear me yelling I’m finally through With everything but you. ‘Life is mostly froth and bubble But two things stand like stone Kindness in another’s trouble And courage in your own.’ I stole those words from some old poem I set those words to music of a sort But you seem to live those words every moment Without a second thought. So I’m through with the curious assortment Of things I found significant before. I’m through with the things that aren’t important I can’t be bothered anymore. I’m through with things you’re not a part of. I’m through with things that do not make you smile I’m favouring the things you’re at the heart of. God knows I’m through With everything but you. I will stay true ‘Cause I love the things you do. That’s why I’m through With everything but you.
3.
CARDBOARD SUITCASE He’s got a cardboard suitcase, and he’s filling it up, And a plastic rucksack, from the last World Cup. He had to sell his moped, just to bribe the man, But he got his visa, and he got a plan; He’s gonna get out of Whogivesadamnistan. He’s got a scrap of paper with a Bristol address. It’s his second cousin, well, more or less. He’s got a one-time ticket on the Eurobus. He hasn’t told his Mother ‘cause she’d make a fuss, But he doesn’t see why he shouldn’t be one of us. Just like the Romans and the Saxons And the Vikings and the Jews, They all shot their load In my genetic code. I expect it’s the same with you. He isn’t a crazy, and he won’t go berserk. He don’t want a handout, he’s not afraid of work. And he thinks we’ll like him, from what he’s read. Maybe find some friends here, maybe find a bed, And no more soldiers hitting him round the head. But there’s a situation at his cousin’s place, ‘Cause the Immigration are on his case. No time for integration, that’s a lifetime career, And assimilation takes a hundred years, So for now he thinks he’ll quietly disappear. Like the Normans and the Lollards, Just like the Huguenots, They all had their way With my DNA, That’s the way that a nation grows. Like a cardboard suitcase, when you’re filling it up. Like a cardboard suitcase, you gotta fill the thing up. I’m just a cardboard suitcase, they all filled the thing up. We’re just a cardboard suitcase, you never fill the thing up.
4.
F*CK ME SHOES She sat there crying all alone, He had sworn blind to her that he would phone. She wept and wished she’d learned to scream. We’ve got some issues here with self-esteem, But she said ‘I’m gonna go out anyway, ‘Cause I don’t have a great deal to loose, And I think I’ll wear my drop-dead dress And that pair of f*ck-me shoes.’ Those shoes...Those shoes... Then she looked at herself in the drop-dead dress And those outrageous f*ck-me shoes. And the Mirror sighed ‘You’re a lovely sight’. Well she almost died But she knows the Mirror’s right. She walked out onto that dance-floor Where she’d often danced with him before, Pretending she was in a play, She gets through lots of scary things that way. She danced alone with her eyes half-shut, And the space around her grew, As the crowd watched the light hit her drop-dead dress And sparkle off each f*ck-me shoe. Those shoes...Those shoes... Yes she looked pretty good in that drop-dead dress And those amazing f*ck-me shoes. And the young man sighed ‘You’re a lovely sight’ Well she almost died, But she just said, ‘That’s true, you’re right!’ These days she says, ‘I can’t agree With your Determinist philosophy. I have Free Will, and that’s the truth, That nice new man of mine is living proof. Predestination doesn’t wash with me, You always get the chance to choose. I could have hung my head And stayed in bed And put on ‘Simply Red’, But I chose instead To put on the f*ck-me shoes.’ Those shoes...Those shoes... Yes she stomped on the laws Of Effect and Cause With those fabulous f*ck-me shoes. With the patent leather that’s black, black, black, And the open-toe and the slutty sling-back, And the five-inch heels that go clack, clack, clack, Oh, I tell you they were f*ck-me shoes.
5.
Cannonball 03:44
CANNONBALL They count their beans In rows like suited machines, Although just like Clark Kent when he Changes identity, One of them owns an Alternate persona And leather jeans. Cannonball! Cannonball! Hear that sound Shake the ground. He’s just one little fat man on a Harley, But he’s got the biggest bike in town. Cannonball! Cannonball! Does a ton, Born to run. We see one little fat man on a Harley, He sees James Dean and Brando all in one. Cannonball! Cannonball! Not what you seem, Living the dream. Polish the chromium, Pump the petroleum, Stomp on the starter And play that toccata That makes us scream. Cannonball! Cannonball! He overcame His secret shame. Nobody knows he’s an accountant, They know him by a different name. Cannonball! Cannonball! Tail-light shone, Then he was gone. Nobody knows he’s an accountant, When he has his outlaw leathers on. Cannonball! Cannonball!
6.
Zoot Suit 02:53
ZOOT SUIT The man in the small suit, he’s a shrimp. The man in the white suit, he’s a pimp. But the man in the Zoot Suit is a hipster born, The fingers snap every time it’s worn. The man in the small suit... He’s a shrimp. The man in the white suit... He’s a pimp. The man in the jump-suit’s wrists are limp. But the man in the Zoot Suit is a hipster born, The fingers snap every time it’s worn. Zoot Suit, Zoot Suit, Zoot Suit... You know the jacket’s got to come right down to your knees Zoot Suit, Zoot Suit, Zoot Suit... And the cuffs on the pants give your ankles a squeeze. Zoot Suit, Zoot Suit, Zoot Suit... The man in the small suit... He’s a shrimp. The man in the white suit... He’s a pimp. The man in the jump-suit... Wrists are limp. The man in the rubber suit, he’s a gimp. But the man in the Zoot Suit is a hipster born, The fingers snap every time it’s worn. The fingers snap...The fingers snap... The fingers snap...The fingers snap...fingers snap... The man in the small suit... He’s a shrimp. The man in the white suit... He’s a pimp. The man in the jump-suit... Wrists are limp. The man in the rubber suit... He’s a gimp. The man in the fur suit? that’s a chimp. But the man in the Zoot Suit is a hipster born, The fingers snap every time it’s worn. Zoot Suit, Zoot Suit, Zoot Suit... The lapels are as big as the living room door. Zoot Suit, Zoot Suit, Zoot Suit... And the key-chain hangs right down to the floor. Zoot Suit, Zoot Suit, Zoot Suit...
7.
BEEN ALONE SO LONG Been alone so long That I’ve forgotten what it’s like, To feel somebody next to me And hear her breathing peacefully When I wake-up at night, Wake-up at night. Been alone so long That I’ve forgotten what to say. If I meet somebody who Might easily resemble you, I smile and look away, I look away. Been alone so long That I’ve forgotten what to do, How to make the whole thing right, And how to help if she’s uptight, And when to run and when to fight, And how to make her stay the night, That’s if I ever knew, If I ever knew. Been alone so long That I’ve forgotten what it’s like, To feel somebody next to me And hear her breathing peacefully When I wake-up at night, Wake-up at night.
8.
DARLING IT’S UP TO YOU I’ve got a ticket in my pocket, I’ve another for you. Hold on. Hold on. I’ve made a reservation for two. Hold on. Hold on. So if you feel inclined We could start anew, Or you can stay behind. Darling, it’s up to you. We’ve has some fine old times together And you’d be hard to replace, Hold on. Hold on. But you’re like Hamlet with a pretty face. Hold on. Hold on. To be or not to be, You never know what to do. This time you get no help from me, Darling, it’s up to you. I’ve never seen such indecision, And I’ve tried tears and threats, Hold on. Hold on. But you keep hedging your bets. Hold on. Hold on. I’ll burn that fence you’re sitting on, Can’t have your cake and eat it too. With or without you, I’ll soon be gone, Darling, it’s up to you. You won’t find the answer looking in the mirror. Never mind your make-up, Make your mind up! I don’t want second hand emotions, I don’t want tears from a can. Hold on. Hold on. I’m just a practical man. Hold on. Hold on. I like things really real, I like things truly true. You must know how you feel, Darling, it’s up to you. Make your mind up... Make up your mind... Etc...
9.
STAMPING GROUND It feels strange to be here. I’ve not been here for years, But I’m walking around ‘Cause this wild part of town Was my old stamping ground. Felt at home here before, But I’m not any more. I suppose I was bound To find changes profound In my old stamping ground. No one I know, They all left years ago. All the friends that I found On the merry-go-round Of my old stamping ground. Stamp the ground. Stamp the ground. Stamp, stamp. Stamp it out! I don’t know why I came, Only one thing’s the same. Still get off on the sound Of my feet as they pound On my old stamping ground.
10.
Rock’n’Roll, I think of Rock’n’Roll, But somehow, Now I come to count the precious years I’ve wasted In running after you, I see you... Rock‘n'Roll you waste my time, If I hadn’t done you, I'd be doing fine. Rock‘n'Roll you wore me out, I've got nothing left when I twist and shout. Rock'n’Roll you haunt my dreams, With your words obscure and your beat obscene. Rock‘n'Roll you wrecked my life, You're a beautiful mistress, but a pig of a wife. Rock'n’Roll you haunt my dreams, With your words obscure and your beat obscene. Rock‘n'Roll you wrecked my life, You're a beautiful mistress, but a pig of a wife. Rock’n’Roll you' had me on, You said you'd wait, but I found you'd gone. Rock n' Roll you've spoilt my fun, I've been sitting in the corner for your call to come. Rock’n’Roll you had me on, You said you'd wait, but I found you'd gone. Rock’n’Roll you've spoilt my fun, I've been sitting in the corner for your call to come. Rock’n’Roll you made me blind. Get out of my life. Get out of my mind! Rock’n’Roll please let me go, You've had fifteen years and I've nothing to show! Rock’n’Roll you made me blind. Get out of my life. Get out of my mind. Rock’n’Roll please let me go, You've had fifteen years and I've nothing to show. Rock‘n'Roll you waste my time, If I hadn’t done you, I'd be doing fine. Rock‘n'Roll you wore me out, I've got nothing left when I twist and shout. Rock’n’Roll... Rock’n’Roll... Rock’n’Roll... Rock’n’Roll. I won’t do it. I won’t do it. I won’t do it anymore, Oh, no. It’s over. Write no more songs, Give up the whole stupid game, I'll be no worse off, I'll still be the same. Make something of my job, And maybe write a book, Stop searching for the perfect hook. So...
11.
I'll never be Paul McCartney, I'll never be Nat King Cole, And I'll never be top song writer On the Melody Maker poll. I'll never be Neil Sedaka, Gerry Goffin or Carole King, But I wish I'd wrote just one standard That people would always sing. I really don't feel too depressed, In fact I'm curiously relieved. Wish I could say no regrets For all the years that I believed... That I would be the new Bob Dylan, And talk on the South Bank Show, But I wish that I'd found out different About ten years ago. Brian Matthew won’t tell my story In seventeen weekly parts, And that tour with Tina Turner Must finish before it starts. Something is rotten In the state of Denmark Street, 'Cause with a little help I could have joined that small Elite. I might have been a new Cole Porter, Or maybe an Elton John... No! I’ve got to stop thinking that way, I’ve been fooling myself too long. I’ll never be Richard Rogers, I’ll never be Lorenz Hart, And whatever new game I’ll be playing, I'll be too bloody late to start. I'll never be Noel Coward, I'll never be David Bowie, I'll never be Leonard Bernstein, I'll never be Buddy Holly.
12.
GHOST IN THE MACHINE There's something there deep down inside. It's very quiet; it likes to hide. It's there, no matter what they say, It'll stay, And it won’t go away, And it will not decay. And beneath the decks, in the oily gloom Of the super tanker’s engine-room, The Stoker's Mate nearly drops his broom, As a cry rings out like the crack of doom. And everyone saw the fixed grimace Of frozen fear on the Stoker's face, But he never told them what took place, And they had to send him back to base, But the Engineers all knew he'd seen The Ghost in the Machine. Ghost in the Machine... Ghost in the Machine... Ghost in the Machine... Ghost in the Machine... Everything's looking clean and neat In the air-conditioned computer-suite. It's three a.m. and the run's complete, The computer man can put up his feet. He throws the switch, but there's something wrong, The power's off, but the tapes spin on. The printer keeps typing the word 'Babylon', And just for a moment, and then it's gone, Is a shadowy face on the monitor screen, The Ghost in the Machine. Ghost in the Machine... Ghost in the Machine... Ghost in the Machine... Ghost in the Machine... There's something there deep down inside. It's very quiet; it likes to hide. It's there, no matter what they say, It'll stay, And it won’t go away, And it will not decay. At the new recording studio, The band all went home hours ago, But the singer's there and he's feeling low, 'Cos the music's sounding dull and slow. He plays the tape back just once more, But there's something there he's never heard before, A vocal track that he did not record, Just the eerie sound that he was looking for, But who is the voice on track thirteen? The Ghost in the Machine. Ghost in the Machine... Ghost in the Machine... Ghost in the Machine... Ghost in the Machine... In the underground laboratory, They are searching electronically For the part of the anatomy That contains your own identity. They have ransacked through the human brain, And they know what all the bits contain, But their search for the soul has been in vain, 'Cause what thinks the thoughts? What feels the pain? The answer is what it's always been, Ghost in the Machine. Ghost in the Machine... Ghost in the Machine... Ghost in the Machine... Ghost in the Machine...
13.
Rover 90 04:00
ROVER 90 Jump in my Rover 90, and I’ll drive you down the road. Jump in my Rover 90, and I’ll drive you down the road. You’d better get ready, you’d better get ready, For some sensory overload. Bounce on my bumper, Baby. I’ll show you how my motor go. Bounce on my bumper, Baby. I’ll show you how my motor go. It’s under the bonnet, you’re sitting right on it. How it gets there I don’t know. And Honda say.... Yes, hop in tout suite Cherie, I’ve some ale inside the boot. Yes, hop in tout suite Cherie, I’ve some ale inside the boot. Jump in my four-seater, the tout-er the sweeter, And the sweeter is the toot. Bring me my string-back driving gloves, We’ll take the motors for a spin. You drive the Humber Super Snipe, I’ll take the Jowett Javelin. I’ll race you up the Oxford Road From Uxbridge, north to Gerrards Cross, And you can be Pat Moss, And I’ll be Mister Toad. Jump in my Rover 90, and I’ll drive you down the road. Bounce on my bumper, Baby. I’ll show you how my motor go. Bounce on my bumper, Baby. I’ll show you how my motor go. It’s under the bonnet, you’re sitting right on it. How it gets there I don’t know. Jump in my Rover 90, and I’ll drive you down the road. Jump in my Rover 90, and I’ll drive you down the road. You’d better get ready, you’d better get ready, For some sensory overload. And Honda say.... And Nissan say.... Toyota say.... Mitsubishi say.... And Mazda say... Suzuki say...
14.
THE SELFISH SHELLFISH I chose to lead the quieter sort of artist’s life, No kids, no wife, They weren’t part of my plan. And sometimes I have conversations with the dead, I’m off my head, A quite peculiar man. And if you say I should proceed a good deal more like other chaps, I’d say, ‘Perhaps, But that’s the way I am’. And if you say this clearly shows a certain lack of moral health, I’d say, ‘Go f *ck yourself! I’m happy as a clam.’ I may be a selfish shellfish, Just a crusty old crustacean With ideas above his station. Yes I may be a selfish shellfish, But here within my cloister, The whole cosmos is my oyster, And as the fish swim past, I hear one cry, ‘That’s the prawn that makes those records That no one wants to buy’. I seem to have a certain knack for melodies With harmonies That linger in the mind. But a critic pointed out that all my songs appeared To be quite weird, And he was being kind. And if you say I should have used this gift to make a bob or two, I’d say, ‘That’s true. I’ve probably been a fool’ And if you say my work has failed and thus my life has been misspent, I’d say, ‘Get bent!’ I’m stubborn as a moule. I may be a selfish shellfish, A sort of crabby hermit Who makes art without a permit. Yes, I may be a selfish shellfish, But let the flashy abalones Win applause by being phoneys, I will stay under my rock and do my art. To be such a lucky winkle, warms the cockles of my heart. I may be a selfish shellfish, Like a scallop or an ormer, But perhaps more like the former. Yes, I may be a selfish shellfish, Of the order Gastropoda, With a charming, fishy odour. Yes, I may be a selfish shellfish, But you can have too much of me, I can bring on an allergy. And so I’ll really have to try To say ‘Goodbye, good bivalve, goodbye.’

about

Judge’s 11th solo release is an album of songs, originally released on CD and Vinyl in 2013. At that time it was only his third full-length collection of songs in twenty years. Featuring the spectacular arrangements and production of David Minnick, and some amazing American musicians, ‘ZOOT SUIT’ is perhaps Judge’s most accessible and downright entertaining album to date.

credits

released May 28, 2020

All songs written and sung by Judge Smith.

Arranged and Produced by David Minnick.

David Minnick:......Drums, percussion, bass, guitars, keyboards,
................................backing vocals, programming (drums & synths).
Johnny Evans:.....Tenor sax
Kenny Robinson:.Trumpet
Mark Tarabusi:......Baritone sax, alto sax, clarinet, bass clarinet,
.................................English horn, bassoon, flute.
Judith Teasdle:.....Violins and viola
Robert Pettigrew:..Piano on ‘The Selfish Shellfish’
Kelly Minnick:.........Backing vocals on ‘Darling It's Up to You’
Lydia Minnick:........Finger snaps on ‘Zoot Suit’
Dorie Jackson:..... Backing vocals on ‘The Book of Hours - Extract’
and
Lene Lovich:..........Guest vocals on ‘Weird Beard’

String Arrangement on ‘Extract from The Book of Hours’
by David Minnick & Michael Brand.

Piano Arrangement on ‘The Selfish Shellfish’
By Robert Pettigrew.

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JUDGE SMITH Glastonbury, UK

Judge Smith co-founded the band Van der Graaf Generator in 1967 with Peter Hammill, & has since been involved in many music projects as writer, composer or performer. He has written stage musicals, classical & rock libretti, songs for television & a book on Life after Death; directed a prize-winning short film, & released fourteen CDs & two DVDs. He was born in 1948 & lives near Glastonbury, UK. ... more

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