Southpaw Jones

Southpaw Jones

 Austin, Texas, USA
SoloFolkAcoustic

Austin's own creator of musical whimsy and whatsits, Southpaw Jones blows many a mind with poignant lyrics and singable melodies. Critics call him "hilarious & heartbreaking."

Biography

Southpaw Jones treads lightly on the thin ice of irreverent honesty. Being left-handed, he naturally turns his guitar upside-down to make playing more comfortable. Being a creative little brother, he naturally turns the world upside-down to make his audience squirm with delight. Southpaw has plied his trade in Houston, Nashville, and Los Angeles, but he now calls Austin home. He performs solo or with Matt the Electrician, working tirelessly to reach those open-minded folks who thirst for singable melodies with one-of-a-kind lyrics.

Southpaw has had the honor of opening shows for Eliza Gilkyson, Dan Bern, Slaid Cleaves, James McMurtry, Terri Hendrix, and Lisa Loeb, performing in legendary listening rooms from coast to coast. He has performed with 5 instruments in 17 states during the past 10 years, but who's counting? While most comfortable in front of an intimate crowd of committed listeners, Southpaw is at home on stages big and small. In a world of men with guitars he stands out as an artist with a truly unique perspective. He makes listeners laugh, cry, and think, often within a single song.

Lyrics

Legitimate Film

Written By: Southpaw Jones

Screen door breaks, Mary’s dress tears
It finally fits in with the rest of what she wears
She’s clumsy, never took ballet
And she never made it in legitimate film

Two college courses in the back of her mind
Are fading fast along with how to be kind
She’s graphite, facing some stiff truth
Since she never made it in legitimate film

C’s on her report card
See her try in vain
She never shagged off-screen
She never bowed down to cocaine

Forty-four hours at a meter-wide desk
They pay her bills along with freelance burlesque
Her friends say she deserves better
Still, she should forget about legitimate film

And she knows it’s true when she’s alone and tired
It will not hold her back from tryin’ to get hired
But she’s too old, there’ll be no breakthrough
And she’ll never make it in legitimate film

D’s on her report card
D cups hold her down
Decent, yes, but desperate
Descent from clouds to the ground

A weekend warrior wearing last year’s suit
He sits behind her on the morning commute
He’s fifty, open to most things
A widower and a divorcee, he still wears both rings

He eats chocolate-covered raisins, he drinks half-caf joe
Smiles at every stranger and says, “What do you know?”
He’s humble, and I bet he won’t care
That she never made it in legitimate film

Besides, who ever makes it in legitimate film?

Cruelty

Written By: Southpaw Jones

Summer in the southland is rough on your car
Fluids evaporate while engines combust
The AC it broke in my Buick
So I called a mechanic I trust
He said, “Your AC runs on Freon man,
And nowadays that ain’t good news
‘Cause Freon’s been banned for environmental reasons
So I asked him, “Then what do you use?”
He said, “Researchers stumbled upon it
While developing flawless, permless curls.
They found something better than Freon
In the cruelty of teenage girls.

They pump it in from high schools all over
There’s a receptor in every locker door
And every heart that falls out of some young romantic
They scrape it right up off the floor
At first they were tapping the boys, too
To power some New England town
But the football team started sucking it up
And the army enlistments went way, way down
But you can still get a few seconds of coolness
Out of every cheerleader’s baton as it twirls
You can even drive through Texas in August
Thanks to the cruelty of teenage girls.

So, our drivers are saved from perspiration
By the cruelty of teenage girls
But fears of the night put me down on my knees
To pray for the rest of our world
I pray for resolution in foreign lands
I pray for redemption at home
But God interrupts as I say my amens
And tells me to leave him alone

He says, “The universe runs on the Freon system now
So talking to me does you no good.”
I said, “Isn’t Freon bad for the environment, though?”
He says, “The environment’s bad for the environment
If you think about it.”
Then he said, “Here, check out this burning bush
Chomp on this burning coal
Shut up
And let me enjoy retired life
Let me go fishing, let me get to know my wife
Let me drive my Buick as chilly air swirls
Thanks to the cruelty of teenage girls
Thank me for the cruelty of teenage girls
Thank Freon for the cruelty
The la la la la la la girls

Everyman

Written By: Southpaw Jones

I’ll be there when you need me
Like rivers wriggle to the sea
I’ll dig a trench with constancy and patience
Before your car begins to sputter
When your toast needs jam or butter
You’ll never find another man like me
I’ll be your everyman
Your back-up plan
Your biggest fan
For as long as I can

I’ll be there when clowns attack
And when your high school calls you back
To tell you that you never passed geometry
And I’ll be there to hold you in
When slow metabolism sets in
I’ll be your lift and tuck procedure
As well as your
Everyman
Your catamaran
Your VW van
Your luxury sedan
For as long as I can

I’ll be there when toil and trouble
Pop or burst or blow your bubble
I’ll excavate you from the rubble
And I’ll arrive when slippery slopes
And radioactive isotopes
Come callin’ for to dash your hopes
You can count on me
I’ll be your everyman
Your cotton candy
Your mocha grande
Your daily brandy
For as long as I can

Now with this song I don’t refer
To how we are or how we were
But rather how we’ll be as long as you’ll have me
I see a brilliant future coming
Trumpets trumpin’, drummers drummin’
You are my every woman
Glory be
And I’m your everyman
Your Peter Pan
Your Steely Dan
The wind beneath your wingspan
Your open-air CAT scan
Your sunless tan
Your lifetime ban on the Ku Klux Klan
Your Mexican flan
Your everyman
For as long as I can
Not quite done
I’m your everyman
I’m your everyman

Linen Patches

Written By: Southpaw Jones

Mary Margaret, poor as me
We saw the peak of history
Now we’re living out on the street
But at least we have four shoes

You knit clothing, I sing songs
Every day is nice and long
There’s not much that could go wrong
Cause we don’t have much to lose

Now If you can find a needle
I think I have some thread
And we’ll put linen patches on
Our newfound dumpster bed

I try to look on the bright side
These days, nature is our guide
At least we’re not still trapped inside
Some soulless office park

I was stressed out, daydreaming
Every time that phone would ring
Wishing we’d lose everything
And go homeless for a lark

chorus

Someday when times aren’t so hard
We’ll look back with fond regard
Once a week, we’ll sleep in the yard
Simply to remember

The taste of moldy thrown out bread
Stumbling on an abandoned shed
Crusty dreads upon our heads
And that bitter cold December

When you pulled out a needle
And I had saved some thread
And we put linen patches
On our newfound dumpster bed

Has Anyone Seen My Pants?

Written By: Southpaw Jones

Has anyone seen my pants?
It’s already 10 am
But no one has acknowledged
Or commented on them

We all got our new lockers
And homeroom potpourri
In all the running ‘round
I just assumed someone would see

I saved for them all summer long
To fix whatever I did wrong
That left me with no friends
And no dates
All sophomore year

I worked hard slinging food
Did odd jobs every Sunday
Mama said she’d match
Whatever I could squirrel away

I knew these were the pants
That everyone would covet
I’ve wallowed in the fray
Now I would finally be above it

I picked them up the day before
The district opened up its doors
I stared at them all night
And dreamed of all my pals to be

Has anyone seen my pants?
Lunchtime came and went
I'd like to introduce
The brand new man they represent

These pants aren’t even comfortable
But I thought they would suffice
How else do you tell folks
That you’re lonely but you’re nice

I told my mom it went ok
But no one talked to me all day
Maybe next year I should just
Save up for a new face

Did anyone see my pants?
Now crumpled on my bedroom floor
If you can’t buy love
Please tell me what is money for?

Set List

Southpaw is capable of performing up to three hours of mostly original songs. He chooses his selections based on the situation, the audience, and his mood.