Among songwriters, Eric Taylor is a towering, if quiet, giant. His records and performances are greeted with awe and admiration by the likes of everyone from Ray Wylie Hubbard, Steve Earle, and Rodney Crowell to Lucinda Williams, Nanci Griffith, and arch conservative reactionary Lyle Lovett. Like his Houstonian peers Townes Van Zandt and Guy Clark, Taylor is a master of the four-minute novel and/or mind movie. There is never a spare word or chorus — his economy is what makes his songwriting so powerful, so dangerous. On Scuffletown, his fifth album, Taylor changes up his approach and comes up with, what he concedes in his liner notes, to be a concept album — though many of the songs included here have been in his set for years. Given the title, it’s about a man’s struggle to become himself through trial, error, misery, and momentary, fleeting glances at the elusive profundity of life. With front and back covers by Stewart Ashlee — a painter who saw from the underside of the life Edward Hopper’s “Nighthawks” — Scuffletown becomes, from the first note of the opener “Happy Endings,” a strange road trip, into the heart of a storyteller who can’t help but tell his stories even if they make him flinch. This record is blusier than Taylor’s previous efforts. He reinvents two tunes by Townes Van Zandt — “Where I Lead Me” and “Nothin'” that closes the album — to fit the schematic of the record, and they’re no worse for the wear; in fact, they become different songs in his hands. When he takes on Willie McTell’s version of “Delia” with his own “Bad News,” you can feel the album take a turn, from the tough, shoddy exteriors of the streets and alleys that live in the hearts of Taylor’s protagonists, to a place where acceptance doesn’t necessarily mean surrender (“Bread and Wine” and “Game Is Gone.”) Using spare instrumentation, an electric guitar here, a piano there, soft percussion, and even a saxophone, was a wise decision. Taylor cut his performances live and “painted in the other musicians.” As a result, the emotional effect of these songs is riveting. The listener feels/sees these stories living themselves out much in the same way that Sherwood Anderson’s Winesburg, OH, or Ben Hamper’s “Rivethead” do. By the time you reach the end of this song cycle, in Van Zandt’s “Nothin,'” with just acoustic and electric guitars to carry the song’s narrative, you’ve reached a place of decision, of resignation, and a place where a man stands alone to face his fate. The haunting, skeletal melody is sharpened on the stone of reality and pain when he gets to the last few lines: “Bein’ born is goin’ blind/And bowin’ down a thousand times/Echoes strummed from pure temptation/Sorrow and solitude/These are the precious things/They’re the only words that are worth rememberin’ anyways.” This resident of Scuffletown is haunted, he’s been hunted, and beaten down by what he’s felt and seen, but he can still stand to tell his story, perhaps he’ll even be able to do so tomorrow. Welcome to Scuffletown. – All Music
1. Happy Endings
Mother was a Pentecostal, Carl was the family friend
He was livin’ down in Addison,
he was tryin’ to pull his cotton in.
My little sister Mary she looks just like Carl back when
We drove him home from Addison,
pulled him out of jail again.
Chorus
Home life, man and wife, kids and a Motorola
I’m a broken doll, fix it, Carl,
I can’t live like this no more now
I ain’t built like this and you know it now.
Clean sheets on the clothesline, little shoes by the bed
Say your prayers to Jesus,
close your eyes and bow your head
Sometimes they drank Four Roses,
sometimes the Old Grand Dad
They never drank in the mornin’,
but sometimes I wish they had.
Chorus
Carl had a way with the cotton,
Mother had a way with the words
And I had my way with a red-haired Catholic girl
Mary and her blue stick pony hardly ever said a word
Took it all in and never let on what they heard.
Chorus
It was like the sun came up one mornin’
and never went down again
Burned a hole through Oklahoma
and the cotton up and disappeared
We were diggin’ holes in the Dust Bowl,
we were searchin’ for a deeper well
Mother prayed for water,
but there weren’t no water anywhere.
Chorus
Mary bought a ropin’ saddle, I bought a new four-ten
Oh, buddy, when the well came in
Mother bought a house in Bangor, Maine,
Carl hit the road again
Oh, buddy, when the well came in.
Chorus
(repeat first verse)
Oh, buddy, when the well came in
Eric Taylor – vocal, acoustic guitar and bass
Mike Sumler – organ
James Gilmer – percussion
Denice Franke – supporting vocal
2. Where I Lead Me
Where I lead me, I will travel
Where I need me, I will call me
I’m no fool, I’ll be ready, God knows I will be
In the meantime, I’m goin’ to make a little money,
goin’ to buy a little mercy
Well, met this mornin’, now she loves me,
man, she says she loves me
Must be easy, look around you, all around you.
But you see the motion, you’re not movin’,
you don’t know how to hold on.
Just keep it loose, don’t get excited,
you know it’s goin’ to pass before long.
One is goin’, one is stayin’
One is silent, one is sayin’
Here’s your coat, take care of yourself, sorry you’re leavin’
I’m a little sad, you’re all I had, will you be returnin’?
The boys upstairs, they’re gettin’ hungry
You can shout in the wind about how it will be
Or you can clench your fist and shake your head
and head to the country
And I got no doubt about it, friends,
that’s where you’re goin’ to find me.
Ask the boys down in the gutter
They won’t lie ’cause you don’t matter
The street’s just fine if you’re good and blind,
but it’s not where you belong
Roll down your sleeves, pick up your money
and carry yourself home.
(repeat first verse)
Eric Taylor – vocal, acoustic guitar and high-end bass
Mike Sumler – piano and organ
James Gilmer – percussion
3. All The Way To Heaven
I saw Charlie Rich singin’ at the Continental Ballroom
He let whiskey do what whiskey does the best
Here’s a song about Kentucky with a big, bright blue moon
Put a little somethin’ in my glass
Can you put a little somethin’ in my glass?
With a song like that, you make it all the way to heaven
Pearly gates open when the doorbell rings
When you can sing like that, all can be forgiven
I’m hearin’ ol’ Charlie Rich sing tonight
I’m goin’ to hear ol’ Charlie Rich sing.
I saw a girl from north of Houston, looks just like you do
Movin’ through another Friday night
She was dancin’ with her husband, but she did not want to
She had a little somethin’ in her eyes
She might have had a little bit of something’ in her eyes.
When you look like that, you make it all the way to heaven
Pearly gates open when the doorbell rings
With eyes like that, man, all can be forgiven
I’m hearin’ ol’ Charlie Rich sing tonight
I’m goin’ to hear ol’ Charlie Rich sing.
I saw the bartender talkin’ to this uptown fella
Uptown fella with the alligator shoes
Must’ve been one of those things,
one thing leads to another
The bartender stepped aside and started shootin’
He pulled somethin’ from his pants and started shootin’.
With a gun like that, you make it all the way to heaven
Pearly gates open when the doorbell rings
You get shot like that, man, all can be forgiven
I’m hearin’ ol’ Charlie Rich sing tonight
I’m goin’ to hear ol’ Charlie Rich sing.
I said a great good evenin’ to the Continental Ballroom
I made it all the way home before it hit me
Can’t help thinkin’ that I might have left too soon
Those alligator shoes could’ve fit me
Those little alligator shoes might’ve fit me.
On a night like that, you make it all the way to heaven
Pearly gates open when the doorbell rings
Just like that, all can be forgiven
I’m hearin’ ol’ Charlie Rich sing tonight
I’m hearin’ ol’ Charlie Rich sing.
Blue moon of Kentucky
Keep on shinin’.
Eric Taylor – vocal, acoustic guitar and bass
Mike Sumler – piano
James Gilmer – percussion
Alaina Richardson, Susan Lindfors, Rock Romano – supporting vocals
4. Chicken Pie
The rooster is a grown man, six foot high
He was born with the rooster’s alibi
He’s got him a house on the Roosevelt River
And he eats the same thing every night
Eats the same thing every night
Chorus
Chicken pie, chicken pie
It’s every old rooster’s alibi
Ask him where he’s been all day
Eatin’ chicken pie is what he’ll say.
The rooster’s got a hawkbill back by his wallet
He’ll straighten out your business
no matter what you call it
He can make the big chicken fly like a sparrow
Tall chicken, small chicken, wide chicken, narrow.
Chorus
The rooster had a dog, it was a hound named Lemon
He used to run all night, he used to sleep all day
But when that dog lost his taste for the chicken
He shot himself clean dead away.
Chorus
When the bank got robbed, it was the next town over
Here come the sheriff runnin’, Rooster told him,
“Now here’s a pretty chicken, man,
I’ve dressed her up nice,
Why don’t you sit down, Sheriff,
maybe have a little slice.”
“I said, here’s a pretty chicken, man,
I’ve dressed her up nice,
Sit down, Sheriff, maybe have a little slice.”
Chorus
(repeat first verse)
Eric Taylor – vocal, acoustic guitar and electric guitar
James Gilmer – percussion
Alaina Richardson, Susan Lindfors – supporting vocals
5. Blue Piano
Just inside the city, there’s a West Texas girl
No pony, no saddle, just ebony and ivory
Every time she sings one
There’s a kiss from her daddy.
Chorus
Hands across the blue piano
A dollar gives you any favorite tune
And the neon screams on down the street
Inside, they ask for somethin’ they can dance to.
Just outside the city, honey, that ain’t the moon
It’s just the dust settlin’ on your new Sunday shoes
Maybe you would sing one
If I kissed you too.
Chorus
Just inside the city, there’s a young man smokes in bed
to a freight train symphony
And he cusses the wheels for rattlin’ the ivory on
some blue piano’s keys
Chorus
(repeat last verse)
Eric Taylor – vocal, acoustic guitar
Mike Sumler – piano
James Gilmer – percussion
Eric Demmer – saxophone
Denice Franke – supporting vocal
6. White Bone
Well, my name is Bone, I was raised on penny candy,
Black molasses, sugar cane, and beer
I keep my radio goin’, and I keep my girlfriend handy,
I’m the whitest thing you goin’ to find around down here.
Chorus
I’m the White Bone
I keep my distance, I keep my own,
I keep the faith, Lord, I sleep with the light on
I’m the White Bone
I’m as clean as gospel blood
I’m so lonesome,
Waitin’ for the fire to follow the flood,
Waitin for the fire to follow the flood,
Waitin’ for the fire to follow.
My daddy’s in St. Louis, he’s some kind of Fan Dancer
Some kind of wig, some kind of panty hose
When my mother’s heart played down,
he was it that killed her
Now he don’t show his self up here no more.
Chorus
I was born in 1968 from a three-day breech
In Scuffletown not too far south from here
The doctor came from Macon
and burned a candle at my feet
And bein’ Baptist, he turned true blind from fear.
Chorus
And some said devil, and some said apparition
Some just tried to cut me when they could
Well, there ain’t no good name for my condition
And I believe there’s some would help me if they could.
Chorus
Eric Taylor – vocal, acoustic guitar, electric guitar and bass
Mike Sumler – organ
James Gilmer – percussion
7. Delia / Bad News
You see ol’ Curtis lookin’ high, man
You see ol’ Curtis lookin’ low
Then you see ol’ Curtis and he findin’ his sweet Delia
Slippin’ out of somebody else’s back door
And she was gone, solid gone
She was all he had, now she’s gone
Delia’s mother wept, man
Delia’s father moaned
Well, they took poor Delia to the graveyard, man
Never brought her home
And she was gone, gone, solid gone
And she was all he had, now she was gone
Well, you can take your rubber-tired taxis, man
Your double-seated hacks
Well, you took my Delia to the graveyard, boys
Never brought her back
Now she’s gone
And she was all I had, now she’s gone
Now Delia, she tells Curtis,
She says, “Now listen her Curt,
you can’t stay around here no more.”
Curtis, he answers his sweet Delia, darlin’
with his faithful forty-four
And she was gone, gone
She was all he had, now she’s gone
So Curtis asked the judge,
He said, “Now, listen here, Judge, now, what’s my fine?”
And the judge, he says, “You better jump back boy,
because it looks like ninety-nine.
She’s gone, gone, gone, gone, she’s solid gone.
Boy, she was all you had, and now she’s gone.
Boy, she was all you had, now she’s……”
Looks like bad news from heaven, baby
Bitches backed with twos
Someone rolled a seven
And Saint Peter got the blues
(repeat verse)
Man, you know she never loved me,
and we just lived in sin
Man, you know she never loved me,
and we just lived in sin
You know she never loved me,
and se just lived in sin, sin, sin.
She want a brick house up in Bakersfield
and a Mercedes Benz
And I said,
“Bad news from heaven, baby,
It’s bitches backed with twos
Someone rolled a seven
And Saint Peter got the blues.”
If you want to get to heaven, I’ll tell you what to do
You got to grease your foots with the mutton stew
When the devil come after you with them greasy hands
You just slip on over to the Promised Land.
There were two little imps, back as tar
Tryin’ to get to heaven in an electric car
The wheels just slipped on down the hill
Never went to heaven, went to Jacksonville
Never went to heaven, went to Jacksonville
Never went to heaven, went to Jacksonville
Man, they never went to heaven, went to Jacksonville.
Looks like bad news from heaven, baby
Bitches backed with twos
Someone rolled a seven
Saint Peter got the blues
(Curtis has a blue dream)
(spoken word)
Curtis says, “Delia, darlin’ Delia, honey how can it be?
How you loved all them rounders, girl,
but you never loved me?
Now you’re gone, gone, gone, solid gone.
You were all I had, and now you’re gone.”
Eric Taylor – vocal, acoustic guitar and bass
Mike Sumler – piano and organ
James Gilmer – percussion
8. Your God
When the boatmen stole the Africans
Did your God ride or row?
When they roped them and they shackled them
Was he with them in the hold?
Was the ocean moon so beautiful
That it brought him to his knees?
What did your God see?
When she prayed out loud in Cherokee
Was that your God by the fire?
When she swayed up there in the sweet gum tree
Was he hangin’ up there beside her?
Did he bless the silver rivers?
Did he fix himself a drink?
What did your God see?
Chorus
If I sing hallelujah, will he hold my hand?
Can we dance among the blessed and the damned?
When the glory train is movin’ on to Beulah Land
Can I ride as far as Andilar and come on back to town?
Did your God ride the bullet
To the old Lorraine Motel?
Is the blood of the lamb, is it another man down,
Did he catch him as he fell?
Did he calm the waters?
Did his heart just freeze?
What did your God see?
Did your God ride the backroads
On a Texas summer night?
Did he stand there in the pine grove
As they drug him out of sight?
Did he stand for the last communion
Did he kneel to wash his feet?
What did your God see?
Chorus
Eric Taylor – vocal and acoustic guitar
Mike Sumler – piano and organ
James Gilmer – percussion
Alaina Richardson, Susan Lindfors, Rock Romano – supporting vocals
9. Bread And Wine
Is everybody here tonight?
Can you hear me over there?
I’m just hopin’ that I might set things right
Then I’m goin’ to make it on out of here.
Here’s the bread and here’s the wine
You people find yourself a chair
We’re goin’ to go through this just one more time
And then I’ve got to be somewhere.
There are some things that I have heard
and I know how people talk
But it seems my father is disturbed
He wants forgiveness for you all.
Ever since those days in Galilee
I think I’ve had the blues
Sometimes I think it’s all on me
But, man, I pray it’s all for you.
I know that one of you is cryin’
‘Cause now there’s nothin’ left to sell
I just want you to know that it’s alright
You go and spend your money well.
So drink up, boys, and break this bread
Let’s walk out into the light
Because I’m not sure after all I’ve said
Where I’m goin’ to be tomorrow night.
I’ve had this dream a thousand times
Ever since I first left home
About this bread and this cherry wine
Bein’ about my blood and bones.
So promise me this, and all must swear
That if anything goes wrong
You’ll send someone that’s strong enough
Just to roll away my stone.
Eric Taylor – vocal, acoustic guitar and high-end bass
Mike Sumler – piano
James Gilmer – percussion
10. Game Is Gone
Well, I’ve heard about your heartworn feelings,
Heard about how you got ’em,
Somethin’ ’bout your nasty dealin’
Pullin’ cards off the bottom
It’s like the time I heard the Mona Lisa
Break down and wail
I told her I’d done a little hard cryin’ like that,
Like that myself.
Chorus
That’s mighty high livin’ through the hard times
You might need forgivin’, not mine
I can’t help thinkin’ that your game is gone this time.
Well, I hear you’ve been to Rome and Paris
Heard you even made it back
I heard you weren’t the least embarrassed
When your train tried to jump your track
It’s like the time I heard the young Picasso
Beggin’ for his bail
I told him I’ve spent a few nights in your town, buddy,
Your town myself.
Chorus
Sometimes you owe it to your lawyers
Sometimes you owe it to your friends
Sometimes you try to break even
So that you can owe it all again
Like the time I heard the fool Columbus
Screamin’ at the windless sail
I told him I’ve been lost on the water,
Been lost like that myself.
Chorus
Eric Taylor – vocal, acoustic guitar, electric guitar and bass
Mike Sumler – piano
James Gilmer – percussion
Tommy Lee Bradley-Jackson – supporting vocals