WA2K Radio is now on the air

I'm not the brightest crayon in the box
Everyone says I'm dumber than a bag of rocks
I barely even know how to put on my own pants
But I'm a genius in France (yeah), genius in France, genius in France

Hoom chaka laka
Hoom chaka laka
Hoom chaka

I may not be the sharpest hunk of cheese
I got a negative number on my SATs
I'm not good looking and I don't know how to dance
But nevertheless and in spite of the evidence I am still widely considered to be
A genius in France, a genius in France, a genius in France

People say I'm a geek, a moronic little freak
An annoying pipsqueak with an unfortunate physique
If I was any dumber, they'd have to water me twice a week

But when the Mademoiselles see me, they all swoon and shriek
They dig my mystique, they say I'm c'est magnifique
When I'm in Par-ee, I'm the chic-est of the chic

They love my body odor and my bad toupee
They love my stripey shirt and my stupid beret
And when I'm sipping on a Perrier
In some cafe town in St. Tropez

It's hard to keep the fans at bay
They say, Sign my poodle, s'il vous plait
Sign my poodle, s'il vous plait

Hemenene humenene
himenene homenene
Poodle... poodle...

Folks in my hometown think I'm a fool
Got too much chlorine in my gene pool

A few peas short of a casserole
A few buttons missing on my remote control
A few fries short of a happy meal
I couldn't pour water out of a boot with instructions on the heel

Instructions on the heel
Instructions on the heel

But when I'm in Provence, I get free croissants
Yeah, I'm the guy every French lady wants
And if you ask 'em why, you're bound to get this response
(He's a genius in France! Genius in France!)

That's right
(He's a genius in France, genius in France)
You know it
(He's a genius in France, genius in France, genius in France)

I'm not the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree
But the folks in France, they don't seem to agree
They say, Bonjour, Monsieur would you take ze picture with me?

I say, Oui, oui
That's right, I say, Oui, oui
Oui, oui
He says, Oui, oui

I'm dumber than a box of hair
But those Frenchies don't seem to care
Don't know why, mon frere
But they love me there

I'm a genius in France
Yeah, I'm a genius in France

Gonna make a big splash when I show up in Cannes
Gonna make those Frenchies scream
You ze man! You ze man! You ze man!

Like a fine Renoir (waa), I've got that je me c'est quoi (quoi!)
Like a fine Renoir (ooh la la), I've got that je me c'est ...
Quoi quoi quoi quoi quoi, oo-we-oo
Quoi quoi quoi quoi quoi, oo-we-oo

Bow diddy bow di bow di bow bow diddy
Bow diddy bow di bow di bow bow diddy
Bow



I'm a taco short of a combo plate
But by some twist of fate, all the Frogs think I'm great
Oh, the men all faint and the women scream
They like me more than heavy cream

When I'm in Versailles, I'm a popular guy
My oh my, I'm as French as apple pie (apple pie)
They think I'm awful witty, a riot and a half
When I tell a stupid joke, they laugh(haw haw haw haw haw)
And laugh (haw haw haw haw haw haw)

People in France have lots of attitude
They're snotty and rude, they like disgusting food
But when they see me, they just come unglued
They think that I am one happening dude

Bowm ba ba bowm ba bowm ba bowm
I'm about as sharp as a bowling ball
But they like me better than Charles de Gaulle

Entre nous, it's very true
The room temperature's higher than my IQ
But they love me more than Gerard Depardieu
How did this happen; I don't have a clue

Well, I'm not the quickest tractor on the farm
I don't have any skills or grace or charm
And most people look at me like I'm all covered with ants
But I'm a genius in France (yeah), genius in France, genius in France

And I'm never goin' back, I'm never goin' back
I'm never never never never goin' back home again
I'm tearin' up my return flight ticket
Gonna tell the folks back here where they can stick it

'Cause I'm never goin' back
I'm never goin' back
I'm never goin' back

The girls back home never gave me a chance
But I sho' 'nuff got them Frogs in some kinda trance
And I'm aware that it's a most improbable circumstance
But Great Googily Moogily, I'm a genius in France

Every Frenchie that I meet
Just can't wait to kiss my feet
Get in line, pucker up! Tout Suite!

Bowm diddy bowm diddy bowm diddy

I'm gettin' even more famous by the hour
I'm stuffed with pastries and drunk with power
Now they're puttin' up my statue by the Eiffel Tower

A little more to the left, boys, a little more to the left
A little more to the left, boys, a little more to the left

I'm the biggest dork there is alive
My mom picked out my clothes for me 'till I was 35
And I forgot to mention
I'm not even welcome at the Star Trek convention

But the Frenchies think
That my poop don't stink
I'm a genius in France

Say, would you pass the Grey Poupon?
Merci beaucoup

I remember, McTag. I loved that scene. And I remember an owl, & a tortoise (animated).

"BLUE SHADOWS" (Also known as Cowboy Song) Written by Randy Newman , performed by Chevy Chase, Steve Martin and Martin Short

Arizona moon keep shining
From the desert moon above
You know pretty soon
That big yellow moon
Will light the way back to the one you love.

Blue Shadows on the trail Little cowboy, close your eyes and dream
All of the dogies are in the corral
All of your work is done Just close your eyes and dream litle pal,
Dream of someone
Blue Shadows on the Trail Soft wind blowing through the trees above All the other little cowboys Back in the bunkhouse now, So close your eyes and dream.

Great song, ehBeth. It seems that Benson created a new genre of country music called country swing.

Francis, that is an awesome picture. Davy Crockett, king of the wild frontier.

Born on a mountain top in Tennessee,
Greatest state in the land of the free,
Raised in the woods til he knew every tree,
Kilt him a bear when he was only three.

Davy, Davy Crockett,
King of the Wild Frontier.

And in searching out Ray Benson, I found the following info:

BOB WILLS
(1905 - 1975)


(born March 6, 1905, Moss Springs Community,
Kosse, Texas; died May 13, 1975, Fort Worth, Texas)

He created a new art form called western swing and for over four decades influenced American popular music in general and country and western in particular.
Reared in poverty among unlettered white and black musicians who expressed their deepest emotions in music, he learned to perform and compose from his heart and soul.

Like those musicians, he was concerned more with musical feeling than with musical propriety. This folk environment contributed to Wills' uninhibited, free, experimental, and often radical approach to music that put him years ahead of his time.

Just how far ahead he really was is evident in the fact that his music appealed to both the age of jazz and swing era and continues to be popular in these times of rock and country and western.

Bob Wills began his career as a fiddler in 1915 and ended it at a recording session for United Artist fifty-eight years later, in 1973.

He made his first record in 1929 and his last forty-four years later. His total output in that period was over five hundred and fifty recordings.

From the horse and carriage to the space age, from the telephone to telstar, from the model T Ford to President Gerald R. Ford, few performers, in music or any other art, have appealed to the public through such a vast and changing period in history.

How he and his music could sustain this response for over a half a century is a human as well as a musical enigma.

This item about Bob Wills, whose birthday is today, was a result of some research concerning Ray Benson, listeners. Amazing how coincidental things can become.

The Cowboy's Lament

As I walked out in the streets of Laredo,
As I walked out in Laredo one day,
I spied a poor cowboy wrapped up in white linen,
Wrapped up in white linen as cold as the clay.

"Oh, beat the drum slowly and play the fife lowly,
Play the dead march as you carry me along;
Take me to the green valley, there lay the sod o'er me,
For I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong.

"I see by your outfit that you are a cowboy" --
These words he did say as I boldly stepped by.
"Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story;
I am shot in the breast and I know I must die.

"Let sixteen gamblers come handle my coffin
Let sixteen cowboys come sing me a song.
Take me to the graveyard and lay the sod o'er me,
For I'm a poor cowboy and I know I've done wrong.

"My friends and relations they live in the Nation,
They know not where their boy has gone.
He first came to Texas and hired to a ranchman,
Oh, I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong.

"It was once in the saddle I used to go dashing,
It was once in the saddle I used to go gay;
First to the dram-house and then to the card-house;
Got shot in the breast and I am dying today.

"Get six jolly cowboys to carry my coffin;
Get six pretty maidens to bear up my pall.
Put bunches of roses all over my coffin,
Put roses to deaden the sods as they fall.

"Then swing your rope slowly and rattle your spurs lowly,
And give a wild whoop as you carry me along,
And in the grave throw me and roll the sod o'er me,
For I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong.

"Oh, bury beside me my knife and six-shooter,
My spurs on my heel, my rifle by my side,
And over my coffin put a bottle of brandy,
That the cowboys may drink as they carry me along.

"Go bring me a cup, a cup of cold water,
To cool my parched lips," the cowboy then said;
Before I returned his soul had departed,
And gone to the round-up -- the cowboy was dead.

We beat the drum slowly and played the fife lowly,
And bitterly wept as we bore him along;
For we all loved our comrade, so brave, young and handsome,
We all loved our comrade although he'd done wrong.

Dys, that Genius in France was "weird" :wink:

Wow! Dys and Raggedy done posted afore Letty had a chance to see.

I know Francis will appreciate Dys's Renoir and Degas, listeners. Hey, don't we paint impressionistic painting with songs?

And as the sun rises slowly in the EAST, we'll be back to listen to the Cowboy's lament.

Well, I made a mess out of copying McTag's request, but he'll get the drift. That was such a cute scene.

And on this date, some really greats were born:

1475 Michelangelo Buonarroti, painter/sculptor (Caprese, Italy; died 1564)
1806 Elizabeth Barrett Browning, poet (near Durham, England; died 1861)
1844 Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, composer (Russia; died 1908)
1923 Ed McMahon, TV personality (Detroit, MI)
1924 Sarah Caldwell, conductor (Maryville, MO)
1926 Alan Greenspan, chairman of the Federal Reserve Board (New York, NY)
1927 Gordon Cooper, astronaut (Shawnee, OK)
1928 Gabriel García Márquez, novelist (Arcata, Colombia)
1936 Marion Berry, former mayor of Washington, DC (Itta Bena, MS)
1944 Kiri Te Kanawa, opera singer (Gisborne, New Zealand)
1945 Rob Reiner, actor/director (Bronx, NY)
1959 Tom Arnold, actor (Ottumwa, IA)
1972 Shaquille O'Neal, basketball player (Newark, NJ)

Thanks, Raggedy. We always become inspired by your celebs and their birthdays. I once told a friend of mine that those EYEtalians made good ceiling painters.

Ah, the greatest love story of all time--The Brownings.

I often think of a former member of The Raven's Realm and A2K when I remember the Sons of the Pioneers. So, here's to him:
The Sons of San Joaquin recorded a remake of "Blue Prairie". It differs from
the 1946 recording I have submitted earlier of the Sons of the Pioneers by
using the last verse first and twice at the end; and by having an
additional set of lyrics (left off the 1946 recording). According to the
Sons of San Joaquin's liner notes about "Blue Prairie" on the CD "A Cowboy
has to Sing"; the Sons of the Pioneers originally recorded the tune "Blue
Prairie in 1934 on Standard Radio Transcriptions. "Blue Prairie" was written
by Bob Nolan and Tim Spencer of the "Sons of the Pioneers".

The additional lyrics make this 1934 version (remade by the Sons of San
Joaquin) more of a challenge to a player then the simpler 1946 version. I
think with the addition of the additional bridge this version could be
called a deluxe version of this haunting piece.


*** Blue Prairie *************************************
(Capo up to 3rd Fret for same Key as recording)

Am F Em
Blue Prairie, Blue echoes ring
Dm E7 Am
Blue as I sing of a longing
F E7 Am
Blue as you....

Am E7
Weary day and lonely night,
Am E7
Seem to say that nothin's right
C C7 F Fm6
Everything is feelin' blue oooh,
C Am G G7
Here in my very soul I feel it too, oooh
Am E7 C
Far in the distant hills I hear a cry,
G# G# G G7
And silent hushed but no reply
C C7 F Fm6
Prairie won't you tell me true,
Cm Gdim G
Why have you cast this gloomy blanket of blue,
G7 C
Over you?


Am F Em
Blue prairie, Blue are the skies.
Dm E7 Am F E7
Blue are the sighs, Of a night wind, Fallin'.

Am F Em
Blue Prairie, Blue are the hills.
Dm E7 Am F E7
Blue are the trills, Of a nightbird, Callin'.

(chorus)-----------------------------------
Am E Am E Am E Am
Every beatin' heart beats a rhythm that is blue.
Am E7 Am E7 Am E7 Am
And the moon has cast a blue reflection on the moon
Fdim
So the wind while on it's way,
F#dim
Seems to cry and sigh and say
Gdim F#dim Gdim (or down to Fdim)
Blue ooooh ooooh
------------------------------------------------
repeat verse 1, then chorus, and again repeat verse one to end song

__________suggested chords________________________

Fdim XX0101 or 000101 (for more disonant haunting sound)
F#dim XX1212
Fm6 XX0111
Gdim XX2323
G# XX6544
G X55433 (this version of G chord sounds better than the-
more opened string version for this piece)

And listeners. Would you believe that our own dj, has a fantastic picture on Calamity Jane's photo thread? If ever I saw a s**t eatin' grin, it was his after a hard night on the town.

Many years ago I took a marvellous ethnomusicology course. The focus of a portion of the first semester was about the trail of the song which became, among other songs, The Streets of Laredo.

cowboyceltic link link

I wonder if any of our Australian listeners can recall which song The Unfortunate Rake mutated to when it travelled south.

Thanks to djdyslexia, I've found a Folkways recording I MUST have.



<snip>



When I was on horseback link

Hello listeners:

In the spirit of what has gone before, I bring you the legen of Pecos Bill.

PECOS BILL

Now Pecos Bill was quite a cowboy down in Texas
Why, he's the Western Superman to say the least
He was the roughest, toughest critter, never known to be a quitter
'Cause he never had no fear of man nor beast

So yippee-i-ay-i-ya, yippee-i-o
He's the toughest critter west of the Alamo

Once he roped a raging cyclone out of nowhere
Then he straddled it and settled down with ease
And while that cyclone bucked and flitted, Pecos rolled a smoke and lit it
And he tamed that ornery wind down to a breeze

So yippee-i-ay-i-ya, yippee-i-o
He's the toughest critter west of the Alamo

Now once there was a drought that spread all over Texas
So to sunny Californy he did go
And though the gag is kind of corny, he brought rain from Californy
And that's the way we got the Gulf of Mexico

So yippee-i-ay-i-ya, yippee-i-o
He's the toughest critter west of the Alamo

Now once a band of rustlers stole a herd of cattle
But they didn't know the herd they stole was Bill's
And when he caught them crooked villains
Pecos knocked out all their fillings
That's the reason why there's gold them thar hills

So yippee-i-ay-i-ya, yippee-i-o
He's the toughest critter west of the Alamo

Pecos lost his way while traveling on the desert (Water, water, water...)
It was ninety miles across the burning sand (Water, water, water...)
He knew he'd never reach the border (Water...)
If he didn't get some water (Water...)
So he got a stick and dug the Rio Grande

(Yodeling)

While a tribe of painted Indians did a wardance
Pecos started shooting up their little game
He gave those redskins such a shakeup
That they jumped out of their makeup
That's how the Painted Desert got it's name

So yippee-i-ay-i-ya, yippee-i-o
He's the toughest critter west of the Alamo

While reclining on a cloud high over Texas
With his guns he made the stars evaporate
Then Pecos saw them stars declining
So he left one brightly shining
As the emblem of the Lone Star Texas State

So yippee-i-ay-i-ya, yippee-i-o
He's the toughest critter west of the Alamo
So yippee-i-ay-i-ya, yippee-i-o
He's the emblem of the Lone Star Texas State

Here's another tough-guy, Ragtime Cowboy Joe.

Ragtime Cowboy Joe
Written By: Lewis F. Muir and Maurice Abrahams
Music By: Grant Clarke
Copyright Unknown

And Marty Robbins did Woody Guthries Billy The Kid

I'll sing you a true song of Billy the Kid
I'll sing of some desperate deeds that he did
Way out in New Mexico long long ago
When a man's only chance was his own forty-four.
When Billy the Kid was a very young lad
In old Silver City he went to the bad
Way out in the West with a gun in his hand
At the age of twelve years he did kill his first man.

There's Mexican maidens play guitars and sing
Songs about Billy, their boy bandit king
Ere his young manhood has reached his sad end
With a notch an his pistol for twenty one men!
Was on a sad night when poor Billy died
He said to his friend, "I'm not satisfied
There's twenty one men I have put bullets through
Sheriff Pat Garrett must make twenty two!"

I'll sing you how Billy the Kid met his fate
The bright moon was shinin', the hour was late
Shot down by Pat Garrett who once was his friend
The young outlaw's life is now come to an end.
There's many a man with a face fine and fair
Who start out in life with a chance to be square
Just like poor Billy they wander astray
They'll lose their lives in the very same way!

Yippee, *************(from Bruce Willis in Die Hard. )

Great songs of the old West, ain't they listeners?

Here's one that my dad taught me.

Just as the sun was sinking over the hill,
Just as the day was through,
There sat a cowboy and his partner named Bill,
The cowboy was feeling blue.

Now Bill said let's go to town pal,
Down into town, pal,
Good time for me and you.

Don't mind your old gal,
Her love is cold, pal,
If what you say is true.
Where is she now Bill cried,
The cowboy he just replied,

San Antoni Antonio,
She hopped upon her pony,
And she rode away with Tony,
If you see her, just let me know,
And I'll meet you in San Antonio.

Thanks to all our listeners, contributors, and staff, WA2K radio is still on the air.

Jesse James was a lad that killed many a man,
He robbed the Danville train,
He stole from the rich and he gave to the poor,
He'd a hand and a heart and a brain.

CHORUS:
Poor Jesse had a wife to mourn for his life,
Three children, they were brave;
But the dirty little coward that shot Mr. Howard
Has laid Jesse James in his grave.
It was Robert Ford, that dirty little coward,
I wonder how he does feel,
For he ate of Jesse's bread and he slept in Jesse's bed,
Then he laid poor Jesse in his grave.

Jesse was a man, a friend to the poor,
He'd never see a man suffer pain,;
And with his brother Frank, he robbed the Chicago bank,
And stopped the Glendale train.

It was on a Wednesday night and the moon was shining bright,
They robbed the Glendale train,
And the people they did say for many miles away,
It was robbed by Frank and Jesse James.

lt was his brother Frank that robbed the Gallatin bank,
And carried the money from the town;
lt was in this very place that they had a little race,
For they shot Captain Sheets to the ground.

They went to the crossing not very far from there,
And there they did the same;
With the agent on his knees, he delivered up the keys
To the outlaws, Frank and Jesse James.

It was on Saturday night and Jesse was at home
Talking with his family brave,
Robert Ford came along like a thief in the night
And laid poor Jesse in his grave.

The people held their breath when they heard of Jesse's death,
And wondered how he ever came to die.
It was one of the gang called little Robert Ford,
He shot poor Jesse on the sly.

Jesse went to rest with his hand on his breast,
The devil will be upon his knee.
He was born one day in the county of Clay,
And he came from a solitary race.

This song was made by Billy Gashade
As soon as the news did arrive;
He said there was no man with the law in his hand
Who could take Jesse James when alive.

edgar, you read my mind. Jesse James and the railroad. What a legend!

and here's the rest of the song...

You know that pony that she stole that day,
That horse belonged to me,
Also the trinkets that she took away,
I was her big marky,

I don't resent it,
I would have spent it,
Gambling with faro Jack.

If she's not happy,
There with her chappy,
Tell her I'll bring her back.

No tenderfoot like him.
Could love her like her boy Jim.

(repeat chorus)

Speaking of horses and horseless carriages, listeners. It's bike week in Daytona Beach, and I have never seen so much chrome and spit and polish. All kinds of folks from all over and all having fun.


Question of the day:

What was pecos Bill's horse's name.

Widowmaker

What was pecos Bill's horse's name : Lightning.

I believe Bob is correct, Francis. How do you say widow maker in French?

Faiseur de veuves!

<I've seen the two names>