From Memphis to New Orleans

by Alex Chilton

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1.	B-A-B-Y 03:01	lyrics	buy track
Baby, oh, baby I love to call you baby Baby, oh, baby I'd love for you to call me baby When you squeeze me real tight You make the wrong things right And I can't stop loving you And I won't stop calling you Baby (Baby), oh, baby You look so good to me, baby Baby (Baby), oh, baby You are so good to me, baby Just one look in your eyes And my temperature goes sky high I'm weak for you and can't help it You know I really don't want to help it B-A-B-Y, baby B-A-B-Y, baby Whenever the sun don't shine You throw out the lifeline Then I get real close to you And your sweet kisses see me through I said, baby (Baby), oh, baby You look so good to me, baby Baby (Baby), oh, baby You are so good to me, baby Just one look in your eyes And my temperature goes sky high And I can't stop loving you And I won't stop calling you Baby (Baby), oh, baby She's so sweet, my B-A-B-Y, baby I like it, I like it, I like to call you my B-A-B-Y, baby I like it, I like it, I like to call you my B-A-B-Y, baby She's so sweet, my
2.	Thank You John 03:16	lyrics	buy track
Come in, baby Who did you fool tonight? Was it my friend John? He thinks you're out of sight I know that you've been bawlin' You're as high as you can be But I knew baby You'd come home to Willie Tee She was just teasin' you What did he say? When you told him you were goin' home? I know he wanted to handle you I could tell by the bruises on your arm I told him once he was a shuck-time stud If he tries this again He's gonna shed some blood It's gonna be alright Now I don't blame you, baby For trying to swell his head 'Cause after all, baby He's giving us his bread Now it's alright for you to stay out all night But when he spreads that bread Make sure he spreads it right It's gonna be alright I wanna thank you, John For bein' a good time come You done proved yourself to me You're as jive as you can be Now it's alright for you to keep her out all night long But when she leaves you alone Send your paycheck home It's gonna be alright Oh, thank you, John You been a boss time come You ain't nothin' but a jive Showtime, monkey town stud You lollipop You sucker, John The olive man You thought you were raisin' sand, hey
3.	Lost My Job 03:09	lyrics	buy track
Lost my job now I can stay out all night long Fired me from my job, people I'm gonna sleep all day long Lost my job, guess I gotta go steal and rob Well, I cried and pleaded and I rocked and moaned Jump and shout, my boss still put me out Lost my job, oh, oh, oh, my job is gone Think I'll stay on tomorrow and boogie all day long I used to work here and there and then I worked around My reputation is shot all over town Lost my job, woe is me Think I'll stay on tomorrow and watch a little TV Okay boys, let's go get fired now Three thirty-five a hour, hundred dollars a week I go get me another job down the street Lost my job, oh, oh, oh, fired for sure If I don't get me another job soon, my old lady'll kick me outdoors
4.	Paradise 02:24	lyrics	buy track
Bright sunshine and fields of green Sometimes I think I'll never leave Baby, this must be paradise Lookin' up to a clear blue sky Lookin' in your lovin' eyes Darlin', this must be paradise The air I breathe seems rich to me The wind carries harmony I can feel the warmth of your heart When I can hear your tender sigh This happiness in you and I Darlin', your love is paradise The air I breathe seems rich to me The wind carries harmony I can feel the warmth of your heart When I can hear your tender sigh This happiness in you and I Darlin', your love is paradise
5.	No Sex 03:48	lyrics	buy track
You know, baby, it's the 1980s Baby, doc sent it up from Haiti Can't get it on, or even get high Come on, baby, fuck me and die No sex No sex, not anymore I remember 1982 Some VD strain, but that's all through This year it's a retrovirus Now they'd just as soon gas and fire us But no sex, not in the hall No sex, not against the wall I'm really worried about the future Junkie blood is gonna pollute ya Pretty soon we're all gonna get it It's time to buy some stuff on credit But no sex, not on the floor No sex, not anymore You know, baby, it's the 1980s Baby, doc sent it up from Haiti Can't get it on, or even get high Come on, baby, fuck me and die But no sex No sex No sex, not in the hall No sex, not against the wall No sex, not on the floor No sex, not anymore
6.	Underclass 03:34	lyrics	buy track
Underclass, underclass Well it's a gas to be a member of the underclass Every day I just loaf around the street Hustlin' everybody that I meet Dress in rags, everybody knows I'm trash Totally bereft of any cash Underclass, underclass Well it's a gas to be a member of the underclass Get down I drive around in a '73 buick I oughta go to work, but I ain't gonna do it 'Cause I'm just really, I'm not quite up to it Whoops, I gotta go call my broker Underclass, underclass Well it's a gas to be a member of the underclass People think that I'm a rich musician But no, that isn't my condition Let me just describe my position It's way down, it's all the way down Underclass, underclass Well it's a gas to be a member of the underclass
7.	Take It Off 02:56	lyrics	buy track
Take it off Baby, just take it all off Take it off Baby, just take it all off I said Baby, just take it all off Take off your coat (Take it off, baby) Lemme hang it behind the door (Take it off, baby, baby) Take off your wig (Take it off, baby) And let me feel your afro (Take it off, baby, baby) So come on, now Baby, just take it all off (Take it all off) Take off your eyelashes I know you bought 'em on sale Don't scratch my back With no false fingernails Stop rollin' your bloodshot eyes at me And baby, just it all off Kick off your shoes (Take it off, baby) While I go fix us a drink (Take it off, baby, baby) Forget about tomorrow, baby (Take it off, baby) Because it's later than you think (Take it off, baby, baby) So come on now And baby, just take it all off Okay Yeah, come here, girl Take off that lipstick, that powder and that paint Since you came up here, girl You just tryna be what you ain't Stop rollin' your big brown eyes at me And baby, just take it all off All, take the load off your mind (Take it off, baby) And relax your nerve tonight (Take it off, baby, baby) Don't worry about a thing, mama (Take it off, baby) Because time is just too tight, hahaha (Take it off, baby, baby) So come on, now And baby, just take it all off (Take it all off) Aww, you look like a natural now (Take it off, baby) You're takin' it all off Ooh-wee (Take it off, baby, baby) Yeah, you're lookin' so good (Take it off, baby) Uh-huh Take it all off
8.	Let Me Get Close To You 02:39	lyrics	buy track
I know I never felt this way before I can't remember ever wanting anyone more How can you turn me down when I need you the way that I do? Come on, baby, let me get close to you Ah, you won't be sorry I'll do anything that you ask of me I'll be the kind of man you want me to be So won't you let me be the someone you tell your troubles to? Come on, baby, let me get close to you How long, I'll never know I've waited to tell you that I love you so Now I have finally said it Come on, baby, don't make me regret it It's not as if I'm asking for the world All I want is just for you to be my girl So won't you find it in your heart to make all of my dreams come true? Come on, baby, let me get close to you So won't you find it in your heart to make all of my dreams come true? Come on, baby, let me get close to you I wanna be close to you Mm-mm, real close to you
9.	Dalai Lama 05:14	lyrics	buy track
Up in Tibet high in the Himalayas There lives a cat called the Dalai Lama In a palace called the Potala A thousand rooms in a thousand colors She had a far-out decorator Dalai, Dalai Lama Each room is different and filled with relics That will disorient you like psychedelics Thirty thousand monks at his direction Practicing things like astral projection Dalai, Dalai Lama Yeah, you know the Dalai Lama gets those monks together And leads them singing every Wednesday at the prayer meeting That's how he maintains the devotion of his followers You know, it kinda goes A-one, a-two, a-one, two, three… Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh Dalai Lama He's the Dalai Lama They pick a two year old and get him from his mama And take him to the palace to be the Dalai Lama I hear he never swats a mosquito That's cause he's a follower of Buddha Dalai, Dalai Lama
10.	Thing For You 03:15	lyrics	buy track
Yeah, babe, I've got a thing for you You're the one I wanna give it to Don't know what I'm gonna do 'Cause, baby, you've got me feelin' so blue Got a thing for you Thing for you Got a thing for you Thing for you This thing is big and strong I didn't care 'til you came along My heart was gettin' all mislead But now, I'm just out my head Got a thing for you Thing for you Got a thing for you Sexual thing for you Intellectual Yeah, ooh, I've got a thing for you Yeah, ooh, really, I do Really, I do Got a thing for you Thing for you Got a thing for you Sexual thing for you Intellectual That thing for you Mystical Thing for you Ooh, physical I've got a thing for you Thing for you
11.	Make A Little Love 03:30	lyrics	buy track
Used to be a tramp But I ain't no more Got a hit record now Pockets just full of dough Got some new clothes, too And good shoes on my feet Penthouse apartment Icebox just full of good things to eat And on my finger is a diamond ring Two chicks on each arm, and boys, I’m ready to swing Yes, I'm ready To make a little love (Make a little love) Yeah, make a little love (Make a little love) Can't call me country ’Cause I can dance, mm Wear ivy league clothes, too Ain't no cuffs in my pants Gotta keep a fifty dollar process Hair just straight silk Manicure and facial Skin just soft as buttermilk And on my finger is a diamond ring Two chicks on each arm, and boys, I'm ready to swing Yes, I'm ready To make a little love (Make a little love) Mmm, make a little love (Make a little love) I feel so good Money in my pocket Hahaha, man, I'm ready Let's make a little love Are you ready, baby? And on my finger is a diamond ring Two chicks on each arm, and boys, I'm ready to swing Yes, I'm ready To make a little love (Make a little love, yeah) Yeah, make a little love (Make a little love, yeah) Come on, baby, I wanna make a little love (Make a little love, yeah) Do you wanna make a little love? (Make a little love, yeah) Uh, so bad (Make a little love, yeah) That’s cold (Make a little love, yeah)
12.	Nobody's Fool 03:12	lyrics	buy track
Nobody's fool This heart has never been broken I kept my eyes wide open Every time she said she loved me Nobody's clown No, I never joined that circus Yeah, I played it cool And I'm nobody's fool Nobody's toy No, I wasn't made to play with Just love 'em and leave 'em That's my game and I got to remain Nobody's love Nobody's bread and butter Yeah, I played it cool And I'm nobody's fool When I wake up in the morning My day belongs to me When I come home in the evening My nights belong to me I feel so free, so dog-gone free I feel so free, so dog-gone free Nobody's fool Yeah, nobody's one and only Yeah, I guess that's why I'm so lonely I'm nobody's fool, nobody's fool Uh, uh, uh, uh I made this bed that I sleep in It's the one that I creep in Yeah, yeah, yeah
13.	Little GTO 02:54	lyrics	buy track
Little GTO You're really lookin' fine Three deuces and a four-speed On a three eighty-nine Listen to her tackin' out now Listen to her whine C'mon and turn it on, wind it up Blow it out, GTO Wah-wah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, little GTO) You oughta see her on a road course (Turnin' it on, blowin' it out) Or a quarter mile (Turnin' it on, blowin' it out) This little modified Pon-Pon (Turnin' it on, blowin' it out) Has got plenty of style (Turnin' it on, blowin' it out) She beats the gassers and the rail jobs Really drives 'em wild C'mon and turn it on, wind it up Blow it out, GTO Wah-wah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, little GTO) Gonna save all my money And buy a GTO Get a helmet and a roll bar And I'll be ready to go Take it out to Pomona And let 'em know, yeah, yeah That I'm the coolest thing around Little buddy, gonna shut you down Gonna turn it on, wind it up Blow it out, GTO Wah-wah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, little GTO)
14.	Guantanamerika 03:09	lyrics	buy track
I'm gonna make a pledge to the TV preacher And hope and pray that I get richer Turn up the green on the picture Have another swig of this hard liquor Breathing in the mist of the crop duster Gazing at the stars that have lost their luster Zieg Heil to the "In God We Trust-ers" Ooh-ooh-ooh, drug busters Soon as I escape to the Eastern Sector I'll find a girl like Tammy Baker Can the crust any flakier? Ooh-ooh-ooh, Tammy Baker Gonna make a pledge to the TV preacher And hope and pray that I get richer Turn up the green on the picture Have another swig of this hard liquor
15.	Lonely Weekend 03:14	lyrics	buy track
Well, I make it alright From Monday morning 'til Friday night But, oh, those lonely weekends Well, since you left me Well, I'm as lonely as I can be Oh, those lonely weekends You said you'd be Baby, good to me You said that your love Would never die You said you'd be Baby, good to me But, baby You did not even try Well, I make it alright From Monday morning 'til Friday night But, oh, those lonely weekends You said you'd be Baby, good to me You said that your love Would never die You said you'd be Baby, good to me But, be-bop, ba-boo, bee-bee, ba-ba, baby You did not even try Well, I make it alright From Monday morning 'til Friday night But, oh, those lonely weekends I said, oh, those lonely weekends The lonely weekends A-lonely, the weekends A-lonely weekends, baby Oww

about

People talk about having a third act in life and if ever there was an artist who had a third act, as well as nine lives, it was Alex Chilton.

Chilton, who grew up in Memphis, started his professional music career at the age of 16 as the lead singer of the Box Tops when he recorded a number one hit, "The Letter.” It was blue-eyed soul at is finest. People still immediately recognize the refrain, “Give me a ticket for an air-o-plane…” Chilton delivered the song with a rich, captivating, gravelly vocal he would apply to a string of AM radio hits, including "Cry Like A Baby,” "Soul Deep," and “Neon Rainbow.”

But the Box Tops were a manufactured band, part of a hit factory, the players all older, seasoned studio musicians, and Chilton eventually rebelled against that and left the band. He recorded a solo album that wasn’t released at the time, then joined a band with musicians his own age who shared a love for the British invasion and Memphis Soul. That band became the legendary Big Star, named after a Memphis supermarket chain.

In Big Star, Chilton was not only the singer, but a songwriter. He and fellow guitarist Chris Bell shared songwriting credits ala Lennon and McCartney, although most of the songs were written separately. Chilton’s songwriting showed a Beatles influence. Gone were the gruff Box Tops style vocals and a fragile gorgeous harmonies R&B riffing for chiming guitars that picked up on everything from All Things Must Pass to the Byrds. [I wasn’t sure what you were trying to say here. Did you mean Big Star had fragile harmonies?]

Although Big Star strongly influenced future generations of musicians from R.E.M. to the Replacements (add other examples?), they were a commercial failure, perhaps partly because they were more of a studio band than a touring act. They produced three brilliant albums over the next four years, each very different from the one that proceeded it. Chilton and the band seemed to shed a skin with each new album — Big Star evolving from the immaculate production values of “#1 Record” to the straight ahead but twisted, in-your-face approach of “Radio City” to the dissolute, reverb-drenched, emotionally wrenching soundscapes of “Third.” The band’s final album proved so uncommercial that they couldn’t find a record label willing to release it initially. Big Star broke up in 1974.

After attempting a solo comeback in 1977 on the CBGB-Max’s Kansas City circuit in New York, Chilton returned to Memphis broke and discouraged. By then, he had developed a small but obsessive cult of fans, drawn by the melancholy grandeur of his later Big Star work. But he transformed again under the direction of producer Jim Dickinson, recording an album of gonzo southern fried fun entitled “Like Flies on Sherbet.” Shortly after that, he stepped back from spotlight and joined art provocateur Tav Falco’s band Panther Burns, which wedded punk rock and obscure southern rockabilly. (seems to me more life detail is needed here)

In 1982, Chilton moved to New Orleans and abandoned music as a livelihood. He worked as a dishwasher, janitor, and a tree trimmer, occasionally playing in cover bands at local honkey tonks. Meanwhile, his reputation grew among a new generation of musicians, even while sordid rumors about his whereabouts and condition spread. Eventually, Chilton formed a band in New Orleans with local jazz musicians that marked yet another change in style. The band included bassist Rene Coman and drummer Doug Garrison, who had actually played in jazz bands with Alex's father, Sydney Chilton, an accomplished piano player and saxophonist (more on that in the liner notes for “Robin Hood Lane”). Gone was the pop flash of early Big Star and the disheveled genius of his later work. The new combo played everything from the New Orleans classics to Memphis soul and new originals. While the music was conceived in New Orleans, Chilton returned to Memphis with the band to record. Working with indie labels like Big Time and the French New Rose, the band’s recording budgets were small but Chilton found enough money to pay session musicians so the band’s recordings would have horns. Chilton now sang with a more natural sounding laconic voice that was a far cry from the blue-eyed soul of the Box Tops or Big Star’s earnestness.

The sparse, straight-ahead approach confused some of his old fans but Chilton and the band were able to gain a following through extensive road work. They played more than 125 dates a year. What emerged was a whole new approach for Chilton and a new body of work that was so barebones that there was no artifice at all. What he had to offer was laid bare for the listener to take in without reverb or other studio effects. His singing was dry and laid back, even droll at times, jaded perhaps, but always honest. That is what makes these recordings hold up even after hundreds of plays.

credits

released February 8, 2019

Tracks 1, 2, 3, 4, from Feudalist Tarts EP originally released 1985
Tracks 5, 6 No Sex EP (1986)
Tracks 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 from album High Priest originally released 1987
Tracks 13,14 Blacklist EP 1989
Track 15 Bonus track on Feudalst Tarts re-issue

All tracks recorded at Ardent Studios, Memphis TN

Guitar, harmonica, voice- Alex Chilton
Baritone Saxophone – Fred Ford (1, 2, 3, 4, 11,)
Bass, vocals – René Coman (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11,12)
Cornet – Nokie Taylor (1, 2, 3, 4, 10, 11)
Drums – Doug Garrison
Tenor Saxophone – Jim Spake (1, 2, 3, 4,10, 11)
Baritone Saxophone – Fred Ford (1, 2, 3, 4, 11)
Bass – Ron Easley (9,11)
– Sam Shoupe (8)
– Tom McClure (13,14)
Engineer – John Hampton (1,2,3,4,5,6)
Mark Culp, Tom Laune (7.8,9,10,11,12)
Assistant Engineers – Mark Culp, Tom Laune (tracks 1,2,3,4)
Guitar – George Reinecke (track: 9)
Ron Easley (track: 8)
Keyboards – René Coman (track: 11)
Piano – Alex Chilton (track: 8)
Producer – Alex Chilton
Vocals (additional) – Lorette Velvette (track: 11)
Wayne Jackson (track: 10)
René Coman (track: 7)

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about

Alex Chilton Memphis, Tennessee

Alex Chilton was that rare artist who reinvented himself over and over again, often abandoning earlier successful formulas. He ran the gamut: the blue-eyed soul of the Box Tops, the Beatles-meets-Beale Street-high harmony of Big Star, a stint as a ’77 punk provocateur, a co-conspirator in mutant Memphis art rock, and a songster interested in soul and blues tunes, jazz standards and rockabilly. ... more

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