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What can ya say. we just don't fit nowhere. it's like goin' to a AA meetin' drunk. not fittin' ya know.
Genre:
Blues: Jazzy Blues
Release Date:
2009
Begins....
© Copyright-SwampVoodoo
(884502141641)
Record Label: SwampVoodoo
SPECIAL: 30% discount if you buy more than one copy of it today!
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Well here tell a bit bout ol' Slick.....born in an unknown region of the swampland, Slick never knew who his real mama was nor his papa. The man who he thought was his papa turned out to be a traveling salesman who had traded a broom for ol' Slick when out on one a his rounds and then instead a selling ma a broom he sold her ol Slick, kinda like a broom but not...well Slick grew up in the ways a the swamp and learned how to talk by the age a 5 and then started on a life long pursuit a truck drivin', fornicatin' and spreddin' lil' slicks all over the place...he raised quite a bit a kin and they all turned out.....well not all good...I mean like outlaws.....but it gave ol' Slick material for some tales and he done wrote those down whilst truck drivin' like a man....now in a bid for cash and retirement he put' em down on a spinnin' object and so's ya'all can hear 'em and so on. Now he is a bit allusive being that he has lawmen about him so ya may not be seein' him in public alot but....you can sure hear him....oh he learned the gitar whilst waitin' in the tree with Daisy May, only problem was in order ta not scare off the gators he had to play with no strings....it's hard he says getting used to 'em being on..they get in the way he says...
"So's ta be the band now is .......'T-Time' on the ground thumpin' vibrational.....'Gato' blowin' in the wind a sax an harp attacks...'Dr. Dan' VooDoo beat stick..(he beat the rap)....'Slick Black truck drivin' man'....low volume mutterin' an gitar prickin'....an a few more when they done get out......we thank all a ya for the support an the files an saws sent in the cakes..they was taken but it's the thought...so's until i'm made ta report again...c ya..an don't be slick...cause I'AM
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How Do You Say It?
author: Ms. Evil
I love music. I love all kinds of music. The only thing I love more than music is story. I hate when I'm trying to tell someone about something amazing and lose all my ability to bring words to the page. I truly love the words and music of Swamp Voodoo. These guys are amazing; there's no style of music that they don't know. They know it all, cold. Cold, like it's their only style. They know everything there is. Join me at http://jivepriory.blogspot.com/ to hear more about this fine band.
They spin out their stories in mini-epics, each having its own movements and flavors. The gritty mumbling of front man, Slick Black Truck Drivin' Man is almost an undercurrent in the smooth river of jazz or samba or two step. The sidemen are perfect together. You can almost see the club's stage lights glinting off Gato's sax as you listen to it weaving through the complex counterpoint between T-Time and Dapper Dan. The bass and drums work to make a story of their own.
All the members of the extended Black clan are represented in stories throughout the site. The Outlaw Man, Daisy May, Gerome. The New York City Woman that may or may not been seen by another relation. I love them all. How can I explain to those that have never heard these songs? If I said that a guy heard of LSD when he was three years old and moved to NYC in search of mind expanding experiences, would you think I had lost my mind? Or expanded it?
But again, the best part of this amazing experience is the story. The reading of the adventures of Slick Black and Ol' Betty cannot be fathomed. There cannot be many of the truck driving brotherhood who can have seen the sorts of things that Slick Black has seen. He has met those shimmering otherworldly types, and they have come bearing...whiskey.
So join me at www.myspace.com/swampvodoo or at www.swampvoodoo.com and see what I mean. I love Swamp Voodoo. I love the body moving rhythms that T-Time and Dapper Dan lay down. I love the smoke that emanates from Gato's sax and weaves right in with my soul. And I love the low voiced muttering of Slick Black. Yeah, and the alien whiskey.
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