NITE OWLS BOOGALOO AND BOTTLE CLUB

by Kirk Adams

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stkurts kirk and his assorted band mates contribute to the fabric and atmosphere of the beach areas in fl. from his blues sets, through classic rock, and his original material, always great entertainment. don't miss this act. Favorite track: Mexican Wrestler.
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    Comes in a cardboard sleeve, with original art and a matte finish. Side effects may include increased tequila consumption, extra-terrestrial visitations, Flying Moonsaults and serpentine nocturnal ambulations (SNA).

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1.
My baby left me for a Mexican wrestler My baby left me for a Mexican wrestler Well, he's a real big star south of the border He looks like he's built out of bricks and mortar His Banzai Drop left me on the mat Never knew a luchador could hurt me like that My baby left me for a Mexican wrestler My baby left me for a Mexican wrestler His name is Diablo he wears a red mask He took my amiga then he took me to task With a Flying Moonsault and a Frankensteiner He hit me so hard I woke up in China My baby left me for a Mexican wrestler My baby left me for a Mexican wrestler
2.
I don't know how to tell you this You're the only girl that I wanna kiss No black magic make-up or sci-fi dress No masquerade mock up or false tenderness Every little look, every little wiggle Every little smirk and every little giggle Makes me wanna jump, makes me wanna scream Makes me wanna tell you you're the girl of my dreams I climb any wall, navigate your fences Do anything to satisfy your senses I don't wanna spook you or scare you away If there's a ghost of a chance then you know I've got to say Every little look, every little wiggle Every little smirk and every little giggle Makes me wanna jump, makes me wanna scream Makes me wanna tell you you're the girl of my dreams I'd do anything to write a happy ending You know I love you so let's stop pretending Every time you look at me I can't help but smile Every time you give an inch I'd like to take a mil Every little look, every little wiggle Every little smirk and every little giggle Makes me wanna jump, makes me wanna scream Makes me wanna tell you you're the girl of my dreams
3.
Drawn To You 03:27
You could hurt me And it would be bad I should run away But I can't 'Cause I'm drawn to you It's hard to explain I don't really want to be But I'm drawn to you I can't stop thinking I can't sleep I'm scared to death That you're gonna change things 'Cause I'm drawn to you It's hard to explain I'm almost helpless When I'm drawn to you We could hurt each other We could lose ourselves We could hurt our families We could regret this forever But I'm drawn to you And you're drawn to me We've got to be strong now 'Cause I'm drawn to you
4.
Late at night Just outside You can hear a flying Saucer glide By the window of The room where you lay sleeping In the morning In your bed You wake with a smile A lump on your head You realize you've got something You've been missing Alien Implant make you feel alright Alien Implant make you feel so good Well you know it's true You know it's true Yes, you know it's true You know it's true
5.
When I heard the black bird call my name Wen I heard the blackbird call my name I knew things would never Never be the same Well, I saw a face among the weeds Yes, I saw a face among the weeds It looked strangely familiar To me Can you hear that lonesome whistle moan Can you hear that lonesome whistle moan That's the Glory Train Come to take me home When I heard the black bird call my name Wen I heard the blackbird call my name I knew things would never Never be the same
6.
Tequila Worm 03:46
Tequila worm don't look at me I know what's on your mind Tequila worm don't talk to me It's been such a long time Since we walked in the autumn wind Walking hand in hand The smell of rich cigars And a mariachi band Tequila worm pleas look away We've been through this before Tequila worm don't talk that way 'Cause I don't want to pour Don't want to see Diablo's face Lurking in the dark Cactus howling in the night Laughing coyote bark
7.
Hallowed times for hollow men Desert days very near the End Scared to look at what you're party to Turn your head until it's through Running out of time As you're sinking down Trying to keep your head Above the dark water Running out of time As you're losing ground Trying to keep your head Above the dark water The dispossessed wonder why Golden arrows fill the sky The rank and file gonna make a stand Lie down in the Promised Land Running out of time As you're sinking down Trying to keep your head Above the dark water Running out of time As you're losing ground Trying to keep your head Above the dark water They'll promise you a bridge when there isn't any water Put the pedal to the metal when there isn't any brakes Toss you an anchor to keep you from drowning Offer you a bed full of bugs and snakes Running out of time As you're sinking down Trying to keep your head Above the dark water Running out of time As you're losing ground Trying to keep your head Above the dark water
8.
Down Below 03:42
Come with me baby To a place I know Won't take long It ain't too far to go Come with me baby Come on Down Below There's a cat down there plays a mean trombone When he plays the blues Make you feel like you're all alone Come with me baby Come on Down Below Well, the people down there They don't care who you are You could be a hundredaire Or some kinda big movie star Come with me baby Come on Down Below

about

"You're in a bar on stilts. The wind is blowing in right off the Gulf Of Mexico, salty, fragrant and not too humid. Across the room a trio of musicians are manifesting a song about a talking worm and agave inspired hallucinations. The dancers sway, awkwardly compelled by the faux-Cuban groove and jagged guitar riffs. Your margueritta now tastes weak and you crave a straight shot of Cuervo, sans lime, and maybe a turn on the ageing planks that make up the dance floor.

The song fades then a smattering of applause, the clinking of glasses as the singer makes a toast. "Raise up your drinks! Life is good!"

You can hear the waves on the surf for a moment before the band kicks in again. This time a dirt simple rock riff gives way to a driving beat and a tale of lost love. "My baby left me for a Mexican Wrestler!" The dance floor fills and the planks bend under the weight. Light comes through the cracks from below. As more and more people crowd the floor you become compelled to join them. To risk falling right through the floor while jerking and swinging to the pounding beat.

You knock back your tequila and shamble into the throng. "Life is good", you think to yourself."
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For years, folks who have been kind enough to come out to see a live show have been "rewarded" with the occasional, often tequila inspired, ad-libbed song or mad cap instrumental. "Mexican Wrestler" was one such creation which sprung from a fleeting funny idea, which surprisingly, I continued to get asked for. So, I spent a little time polishing the lyrics and educating myself about luchador maneuvers like the Flying Moonsault and the Frankensteiner, and it became one of my most popular live songs (and probably most covered tune).

A few other selections on this album were also birthed in such fertile yet sometimes unforgiving soil. Some of the others in this compilation were songs with simple enough arrangements that lent themselves to just jamming on the spot. They contained in their musical genes the DNA to become mainstays in my shows. I should say "our shows" because they were very much forged into being by the band mates I worked with.

A song I wrote when I was 17, an Appalachian folk song turned neo-swamp punk, a disgruntled political rant and a late night inspired blues riff, along with the polished up ad-libs of free-form composition, all came together in our live shows to become staples of my repertoire and now have been collected, after many requests for recordings.

So, if you've been to a show, I hope this'll help bring back some of the fun. If you haven't, it'll give you an idea of what it's like. So raise up your drinks, life is good, life is short so let's have a good time!

"Unbelievable!"

credits

released November 20, 2018

Kirk Adams - guitar, organ, piano, Danelectro sitar and vocals

Tommy Bell - drums, wrestler choir

Craig Benson - congas, cowbell

Patrick Bettison - bass, e. piano, wrestler choir

Gale Trippsmith - backing vocals

Steve Vitale - bass



All songs by Kirk Adams © 2018

Recorded at Creative World Recording
with George Harris with additional
recording at Mystic Orb.

Mastered at Big 3 Studios
by Jim "Pinky" Beeman

Art Design by Neil Paterson Design

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Kirk Adams St Petersburg, Florida

The eclectic ramblings of a habitual songwriter.

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