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Booking Agent Blues
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Dedicated to the ones so hard to love, historical figures whose names have been changed or not fully identified so as to discourage defamation suits
violin jazzrockfusion
Artist picture
The early stuff: psychedelic artsy rock. The later stuff: high energy jazz/rock/fusion with lots of inspired ensemble interplay and improvisational soloing
We broke up in 1974, but had our first album produced in 2001 when World in Sound, a small label operating from Schwetzingen, Germany, found us after hearing a 45 rpm single we releaased in 1971. Since then, we have released "fred" and "Notes on a Picnic", and "live at the bitter end", recorded in New York City in the summer of 1974, and released March 20, 2004. George Graham, long time Disk Jockey for WVIA-FM in Wilkes-Barre, PA, had these kind words in his review of music released in 2003 about "Notes on a Picnic": "The Best Archaeological Find Award goes to three CDs released for the first time in 2003 of material dating back decades. One was the Willie Nelson demo sessions, another was the live recording by the famous Bloomfield-Kooper Super Session band recorded live at the Fillmore East in December 1968, and the other was a regional gem by the Lewisburg, PA, based art-rock band Fred, called Notes on a Picnic, recorded in the mid 1970s but never released until now, thanks to the interest by a European collectors label." http://georgegraham.com/reviews/gdgawd03.html
Song Info
Genre
Podcasts Comedy
Charts
#4,629 today Peak #36
#1,619 in subgenre Peak #10
Author
Joe DeCristopher
Rights
fred 1972, WIS 2001
Uploaded
November 16, 2003
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.3 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Story behind the song
A song about the frustrations of an aspiring, unconventional rock and roll road band from rural Pennsylvania in the heyday of Grand Funk Railroad
Lyrics
Don't get no groupies, I ain't makin' no mint, but I love to play my guitar. Small "big time promoters" tell us we must sell out or we won't get very far We play hick high schools and bad-vibe-rating bars Guess you'd say we're paying our dues But there's one toll that's the meanest of all, it's them Booking Agent Blues First there was Stanley and his fat buddy, Frank, whose bands could never get too tight Then Hubba and Salt at Poppy Rock time--such money, they made, was it right? Not much for giving, but they know how to take, if we'd let 'em, they'd steal our shoes Jobs coming in faster than molasses in heat, got them Booking Agent Blues Don't mean to say that they're all bad; might find an honest one soon Meanwhile, I'll just stick out my thumb and hitchhike to the moon So far, we haven't signed nothing, with luck I think we never will I just hope that those hard times ahead don't push us to the poisoned quill Take fifteen percent, if we're lucky just ten, or flesh by the pound and ounce After all, we may get to play here again, and hope the check won't bounce Not much for giving, but they know how to take We go barefoot 'cause they stole our shoes Jobs coming in faster than molasses in heat. Got them Booking Agent Blues.
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