Drinking with Bukowski

Drinking with Bukowski

BandAlternativeAmericana

Drinking with Bukowski is lyrically brilliant melodic rock-blues-folk-Americana with hypnotic Middle Eastern riffs and seditious sermons for the vanishing middle class. Drinking with Bukowski charts the wasteland between addiction and sanity, elitism and labor, sexual predation and naive affection.

Biography

Squeezed from the bar rags of seedy recording sessions, the effusive music dribbled and drained into a lost mop bucket in a forgotten corner of Mudville. Then in an utter stroke of brilliance the sound was brought to the people. Non-specific rants and poetry were added to the cacophony and lo, Drinking with Bukowski was born.

Though a new incarnation, the Oakland based members of DwB have a tenured, if not sordid, history of public performance, from ragtag bars in the Bay Area and the Central Valley in front of 20 people, to large “top shelf” performances at illustrious Bay Area clubs and outdoor festivals with thousands in attendance. Veterans of the local Bay Area music scene, most of the band has performed at many of the clubs in Oakland, Berkeley and San Francisco.

Drinking with Bukowski sports a packed basket of solid performers and award winning artists. DwB has artists who have been featured on MP3.COM's Elvis Costello cover site, other non-descript but important song writing awards, one of the members has even had a few songs stolen!

Drinking with Bukowski is lyrically brilliant melodic rock-blues-folk-Americana with hypnotic Middle Eastern riffs and seditious sermons for the vanishing middle class. Drinking with Bukowski charts the wasteland between addiction and sanity, elitism and labor, sexual predation and naive affection.
www.drinkingwithbukowski.com

Lyrics

French TV

Written By: Dan Fox & Troy Spears

Could you see me on French TV?
Shotgun shells and Irish whisky.
Dirty dishes in a broken sink,
Coke and whisky I'm too drunk to drink.
I've got the German measles and a ten-day itch,
I could do without that son of a bitch.
In a room, of broken dreams,
living sober isn't what it seems.

If I set my life on fire,
throw the coals in gasoline.
Cut my beard with a rusty wire,
hang me high in the mezzanine.

Stand in offal with die franzosin,
lay me down with her next of kin.
I got a champagne bill for my rotgut life,
lay me down with my best friend’s wife.
Stamp her name, on that unpaid bill,
she can swallow a Coupe de Ville.
I got a cheapo suit and an unshaved face,
lies spread like oil, all over the place.

If I set my life on fire,
throw the coals in gasoline.
Cut my beard with a rusty wire,
hang me high in the mezzanine.

Dear as I dance with you close in my arms,
angels were singing a hymn to your charms.
Two hearts Gently beating were murmuring low,
darling I love you so.

What is most cannot be and cannot be saved.
What is least and the excretion of least has been collected and cataloged as learning.
Who touches does not know.
Who knows does not touch.
I am and still only cannibal.
I am last of my species.
I decree the blessed Eucharist; body and blood, and whither beneath my too cultured taste.
I starve without kindred.

Tell me you'll cut the throat of a naked moon,
on a clear night in a rainy June.
We'll blast the belts from a moving car,
in the first shot of a distant war.
You'll like the smell of the bloody ground,
hold your hat for another round.
Do yourself a favor when you break a tooth,
pay your money to a fortune booth.
If I set my life on fire,
If I set my life on fire,
If I set my life on fire,
If I set my life on fire,

Dear as I dance with you close in my arms,
angels were singing a hymn to your charms.
Two hearts gently beating were murmuring low.

Feedin' the Cats

Written By: Troy Spears

The ocean opens its eyes, the water sings in its chains, and I’ve been changing my size, to let your love in again.

But I know that the odds are against it,
and I gotta get back to a sensible seaport.
There’s a little cold shanty on the edge of the wet docks,
it isn’t very much, but I think it’s a sure-shot.

My traveling days are through, and yes I want to lay down, between joy and despair, in a comfortable town.

‘Cause I’m living in the holy of holies.
I couldn’t look up ‘cause I’m coming down hard,
on a soft Summer night in your bottomless kitty.
Looking at the truth isn’t so pretty

Down on my luck and I ‘m living on red beans.
There’s a run in my nylons and hole in my wet dreams.
So I’m walking at night with the garbage collectors,
and the ghouls in the graveyard with the metal detectors,
and I’m putting all the fishes in the bowl for the kittens.
Little lost kittens fall into my mittens,
and it helps me forget when I’m stroking the fur,
and I love to watch them roll on their backs and purr.

I’m feedin’ the cats, and the cats are fat.

The saddest, saddest moment is the one of realization when we turn and turn the self mending process into the thing, durable, breakable.
The actual breaking is only the sadness of realization come to pass.
And our learning still stinks of the judgment of Christ, and his carcass rots beneath our worldly gaze.
God is just now emerging from his dream.

The world continues to turn, and yes, I want to forgive.
Your crimes are just in my mind, but that’s the place where I live.

And I dream of a way to forget you,
but I don’t think I can since the day that I met you.
There’s a pin in my heart and its pulling me into,
another lost weekend with a bottle of gin,
and the boys in choir sing a latter day fib,
and I’m ready to heave the baby out with crib.
and I’m sucking my strength from the mouth of a school girl,
and I’m turning my anger on an oblivious world.

Discography

Feedin the Cats - Streaming
French TV - Streaming
Silver Cadillac - Streaming
Name - Streaming

Set List

· Name - Original composition, great groove, funky, poetic
· Don't Turn Me Away - Original composition, tear-jerker love song, so sad
· French TV - Original composition, samba, psycho-jazz
· Crimes - Original composition, another song brought to you by the DPC (Dept. of Public Crying)
· Drinking with Bukowski - Original composition, funk, rock, poetry, slobber
· This Town - Original composition, groovy, keep grandma away from the bar
· Lonely Videos - Composition by Dirk Hamilton
· Knife - Original composition, psycho-drama, dark love
· Chains - Original composition, psychedelic groove
· Jesus Chrysler - Original composition, arabic, slinky-groove, pummeling rhytm and back beat
· Feedin the cats - Original composition, dark erotic grooves, pounding rhythm

The set is approximately 60+ minutes long, and very danceable.