Hambone Riley - Pump Stuck On My Dick

 Hambone Riley shows up with another song that deals with some sort of sexual issue. This time it's
vacuum pump therapy for erectile dysfunction! Hambone's usual style is represented; quiet beginning, then a section more animated , then the chorus which is usually fully animated and loud. 

Figgered I'd give my old dick a little help
Seems my ol' friend been in a little slump
Looked through the catalogues thought I'd try
Them funny lookin' sex aides a peter pump!

Ain't goin' to no sex shop
Too damned embarrassed to go
Ordered one online and waited
Finally came, the mail was so slow
Got a fancy one, electric
Supposed to work a lot more better
Got it out the box to test it
Ended up bein' a fetter!

Pump stuck on my dick!
Got way too much suction!
S'posed to make it big
Cain't get off the rig
Cain't hit the goddam off button!

Pump stuck on my dick!
Runnin' 'round the house in the buff!
My dick's in the brig,
It got too damned big
Situation's gettin' rough!

In a real predicament, and to make it worse
My dick keeps gettin' bigger and won't go down
The pain is gettin' worse, it's turnin' purple too
I'm embarrassed, hurtin' feel like such a clown!

I get a long screwdriver
As I start to moan and cough
Gonna try goin' real slow
To pry the fucker off
But the suction's way too strong
That thing is just there to stay!
As my dick turns shades of purple
Will I make my get away?

Pump stuck on my dick!
Gettin' real light in the head
There's a goddam flood
My dick's gettin' blood
Not goin' to my brain instead

But I think it's slowin' down
The damned things turnin' off!
Cheap batteries,
As quick as ya please
It shuts down, my dick goes soft!

Let that be a lesson to ya'll
Gonna try any of them things
Don't get no powered ones
If ya value yer dick that swings!
Or ya'll might get
A pump stuck on yer dick!

Forgotten Bob - What In The Hell, Kash Patel!

Forgotten Bob continues his onslaught of the Trump Administration and the department leaders he appointed. Kash Patel ,the director of the F.B.I. is the current subject. The song is a classic rocker with a sax player that wails some solos. We called Bob's manager, a guy that goes by the name of Bodacious Marlin that everybody calls BM for short, to see if he could find out the name of the sax player to give him credit on the record. He got in contact with Bob and Bob told him that the guy goes by the name of Slobberin' Blowhard, and that he would rather not be named on the recording, as Slobber doesn't want any publicity because of his past... The more we get involved with Forgotten Bob, the more we think we're getting our collective leg pulled! But what the hell, the music is interesting.  

What in the hell, Kash Patel
Ever thought much about it?
Only reason you got the job
Put yer lips on his ass and kissed it!

A pledge of total loyalty
Of that you all are behooved
Even tried to start some shit
Even before you were approved

Vowed to bring to justice all
The enemies of Dear Donald
Man, that's a hell of a list,
It include Ronald McDonald?

What in the hell, Kash Patel
Ever thought much about it?
Only reason you got the job
Used yer hand to try and stroke it!

Teamed up with Stephen Miller
Over immigration
Be careful who ya hitch up with
You'll be in a situation

This bunch in charge of the place
Are prone to ICE aggression
Any shade darker than whitey
May be subject to deportation

What in the hell, Kash Patel
You say yer a citizen?
Better blow Trump's bugle harder
Arrest has happened to dozens of 'em!

Yer the head of the FBI
Workin' with the Blondie lady
Need to change the name to FBC
To FEDERAL BATSHIT CRAZY!

You better pray Trump don't drop dead
You'll be fucked for a change yerself
Won't nobody trust your ass now
When the next asshole comes off the shelf

Vincenzo Azzurro - Trump's Grandpapa

 

We have a new artist premiering a song here at GR50 Records Vincenzo Azzurro, an Italian -  Canadian who lives in Little Italy in Toronto. Mr. Azzurro is an immigrant to Canada from Italy,  and is a leading figure in the area. He's been on many special committees in Toronto dealing with the Little Italy area as well as the entire city of Toronto. He is owner and partner in many ventures throughout Canada, and is very concerned about the recent comments from President Trump, and decided to write a song that's an expose of Trump's Grandfather, Frederick Trump. Mr. Azzurro is also an accomplished singer as his performance here makes clear. He is a major contributor to classical as well as other genres of music in Canada, and has so much influence he was able to put together the music group that backs him on this interesting recording.

Trump’s Grand Papa was born in a Germany
In the town of Kallstad, Bavaria you see
His Grandpapa always said he was Swedish
He was big liar, like Grandson Donny be

Oh Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump
Come from family
Who lie, cheat, steal and rob
To make all their money
It must be in the genes
Carried on to the presidency!

Nono Trump said that he's not from Germany
Because he went to America to skip the army
Germany conscription, and he too good for it
He was just a barber, for army he wasn’t fit

Oh Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump
Donny had the heel spurs
He couldn’t go into the army
Make me with a sweaty brow
Wonder how he play so much golf
He no had surgery, no complain, never say OW!

Nono Trump end up in Seattle in 18 a 91
In new state in the west of Washing a ton
He open a café and bar, with rooms in the back for ladies
A fancy way to say that Nono ran prostitution!

Oh Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump
Nono made a lots a lots a money
End up in Alaska during gold rush
Made so much money by the crock!
Food, and booze and whores, and land grabs
His grandson a chip off the old block!

Oh Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump
Come from family
Who lie, cheat, steal and rob
To make all their money
It must be in the genes
Carried on to the presidency!
And not to mention his crooked Papa Fred,who taught Donny all he know!

The Nude Polka Kings - The Icicle Polka

  The Nude Polka Kings have been busy playing gigs all over the country as well as their own Polka Hall in Chicago, IL, which they say is the largest nudist polka hall in the country. We'd go one step further, and hazard that it is the only nude polka hall in the country. The band wants to make a confession: The picture used for the title card of naked to the waist men DOES NOT included members of the band. It was a professional picture taken using male models. There is no member of the band that looks remotely like any of the men in the picture, as most of the guys are at least middle aged or older, some with balding heads, most with pot bellies! 

When it’s in the wintertime, with all the wintery storms
Snow piles on the shingles, on the eaves icicles form
They are pointy and so shiny, drip in the sun and sway
Be careful when they fall, that you’re not in the way!
 
The icicle polka, watch them drop so fast
The icicle polka, watch them fall right past
When the sun loosens them from their perch up high
If you look up when they fall, it could take out your eye!
 
When I was a young lad, I heard of an Inuit
During the winter night he threw a hissy fit
He longed to see the sunshine, but couldn't get along
Because the nights up there, are 6 months long!
 
The icicle polka, his happiness suppressed
The icicle polka, he grew so depressed
Stabbed himself with an icicle, went completely nuts
Police ruled it suicide, death by cold cuts!
 
When I was a young lad, we were very poor
We lived very frugally, without any grandeur
We had to make do, when on the ice we'd cavort
Tie icicles on our shoes, and skate for winter sport!
 
The icicle polka, it worked so very well
The icicle polka, we gathered them when they fell
Only trouble was, when they got too very hot
They'd melt into a puddle, right on the spot!
 
We're The Nude Polka Kings, that is very true
Don't play outside in winter, what is wrong with you?
If we would do that, a bad fate to us would be fall
We'd get too cold all over, AND GET BLUE BALLS!
 
The icicle polka, play indoors 'til spring
The icicle polka, don't wanna freeze off our thing
We'll look out the window, at icicles so clear
Play another polka, and have another beer!

The Widow Makers - War! War! Constant War!

 It might seem a little off that a band that calls themselves The Widow Makers writes and performs a song like War! War! Constant War!, and the final lines of  the song show that the band thought of that too, and they address it: 

We call ourselves The Widow Makers, just a heavy metal band you see,

But you sons of bitches are the widow makers.... of reality!

Obvious what the band's take is on the recent developments in the Middle East and the ongoing conflict with the Russian invasion of Ukraine. The band is based in Great Britain, but their song implies that there is always the possibility of war spreading to other countries, including their own. 

In this style of music, the rhythm and music can sometimes seem to be more important than the lyrics. At least to some of our 'old' ears that grew accustomed to different styles of music. We're being diplomatic; plain speaking, the music is so loud that we can't hear or make out the lyrics, and even when we can the meaning of the lyrics can be hard to decipher. The band has taken especial care to have the singer's voice and the lyrics heard, and the meaning of it all is pretty clear!  

Ones who say they're for peace are the ones that bring about war
They've started yet another one, we're not sure what they're fighting for
Over a parcel of land compared to the size of the earth
Is tiny and inconsequential, how much could it be worth?
War, war, constant war!
Wars don't end before the next one begins
Carrying on mankind's deadliest sins
Get the artillery ready, guns big and small
Fight for the peace that we demand for all!
 
Leader of one of the largest countries on earth
Invaded a neighbor, how much is it really worth?
Ego and power, land grabbin' and murder
Been fightin' for years against a brave defender
War! War! Constant war!
No end in sight for the aggressive bear
Who tries to grab and steal, keepin' armies there
While the leader of the U.S. grows green with envy
And helps another war-monger to start more frenzy
 
Leader of what used to be the world's great democracy
Started bombs flying and refused to let anyone see
What was going on with his Israel leader tryst
But he couldn't give the plan cuz it doesn't exist!
War! War! Constant war!
Been only days, but now they all reassure
Only take a few days, maybe a few weeks more
We'll create regime change, like we did in Iraq
We're awesome warriors! We really rock!
 
War! War! Constant war! Beg yer pardon, we seen it all before!
Pat the troops on the back,give them plenty what's for!
If they do come back, fuck them over like you do
Aid war-mongers, be in league with murderers...
Because you are one too!
War, war, constant war!
We call ourselves The Widow Makers, just a heavy metal band you see
But you sons of bitches are the widow makers.... of reality

Pascal Villon - The Last Cáfe (C'est la vie)

 

We at GR50 Records are proud of our international catalog, and we've just added a new one, the Parisian chanson singer, Pascal Villon! Pascal brings hsis resonant and flexible baritone voice to the U.S. for the first time. He is here on tour, and was brought to our attention by one of our associates in Canada because of Pascal's visits to French-speaking areas in the past. He of course sings in French, as well as very understandable English. He has been performing for many years and is quite well known in the Paris music scene. 

He not only is a favorite performer of many, but also composes most of the songs he sings, which makes him fit right in with the rest of our artists who for the most part are also composers of their own material. He has a good feel for the style, and absolutely a good voice for it as well.  

Bonjour...My name is Pascal Villon.
I am here to sing a chanson for all of you
who have had a broken heart.
We French have a term for it.... c’est la vie.
Paris in May... but the rain, it does not care
about the season.
Just like you, mon amour...
you did not care about the clock.
 
I sit alone at a table in the corner,
Watching  the couples walk by on the street.
The waiter brings wine, but it tastes a bit colder,
Without the sweet warmth of you when we meet.
I look at my watch, it is past midnight,
An hour since you walked out the door.
You left a smile in the dim cabaret light,
And a shadow that steps on the floor.
 
Oh, c’est la vie, my beautiful friend,
Every sweet chapter must come to an end.
We danced in the mist by the old Notre Dame,
A temporary fire, without any harm
I raise my glass to the ghost of your face,
Lost in the smoke of this lonely old place.
Adieu, mohn ah-moor... c’est la vie.
 
You told me that writers are dangerous men,
They turn a small kiss into tragedy's art.
You were right, as I pick up my pen,
To measure  pieces of my heavy heart.
Your scarf is still here on the back of a chair,
A whisper of silk and perfume.
A bittersweet ghost in the chilly night air,
Haunting this quiet, dark room.
 
Oh, c’est la vie, my beautiful friend,
Every sweet chapter must come to an end.
We danced in the mist by the old Notre Dame,
A temporary fire, without any harm.
 I raise up my glass to the ghost of your face,
Lost in the smoke of this lonely old place.
Adieu, mohn ah-moor... c’est la vie.
 
No tears in the wine... non, that is too cheap.
Just a quiet goodbye to the secrets we keep.

Gummer Beaudine - Pretty Hunk Of Honky Tonk!

 Gummer Beaudine is one of our raunchier artists, and she's got a solid hard-core group of followers that frequent her gigs at local gin mills.  She's a pretty tough cookie, having lasted through some rough relationships, working in industry for a long time, and playing venues that used to have a curtain of chicken wire between the band and the audience to prevent flying objects from hitting them.  Big Marv, one of our resident producers and mentors, as well as a fine musician himself, took Gummer under his wing early on. Now Big Marv is no stranger to raunchy, but after her first few records he quit mentoring her and producing her songs. He said she didn't need him, she'd figured it all out and was tougher than he was!

That Gummer would write and perform a song about a man she has the hots for is pretty typical. She's aggressive, she can be nasty, and she's talented! We at GR50 Records appreciate her unique perspectives and talents!  

Favorite place for me to play is a gin mill next town over
Got a good clientele and none of ‘em are sober
Lots a drinkin’, dancin’, behavior goin’ too far
But the best thing ‘bout it is the hunk that's tendin’ bar!
 
He’s a handsome son of a gun, sends ma heart to shiver
Ever time I see him my lady parts begin to quiver
Give me the chance, I’d ride him like a bronc!
He’s jest a big old pretty hunk of honky tonk!
 
His name is Jerry and ever time I'm around him
Wanna grab him by his hips and guide it right in
I imagine goin' in his jeans and seein' what I'd find
DAMN, it makes me wanna do the bump and grind!
 
He says he's married already, but I don't give a shit
Don't wanna cause a divorce, jest fuck a little bit
He says he will be true, and that he jest won't
But I sure as hell won't tell no body if'n he don't!
 
He’s a handsome hunk of a man, sends ma heart to shiver
Ever time I see him my lady parts begin to quiver
Give me the chance, I’d ride him like a bronc!
He’s jest a big old pretty hunk of honky tonk!
 
I tol' my current boyfriend to please be aware
I see Jerry I just can’t help but stare
Wanna dance with him, do the spin and twirl
And later take him home and ride him cowgirl!
 
Jerry what a hunk! What a man!
Jerry what a stud! Get him if I can!
Jerry be my lover! Let's let off steam!
Jerry come on over! Oh, I can dream!
 
He’s a handsome hunk of a man, gives ma heart a rush
Ever time I see him my old body starts to flush
Give me the chance, I’d ride him like a bronc!
He’s jest a big old pretty hunk of honky tonk!