Publicación: 28 de mayo.
Productor: 10cc.
Ingeniero, mezcla y reducción final: Eric Stewart.
Estudios: Strawberry Studios , Stockport , Cheshire, Inglaterra.
Corte: Streling Sound, New York City, U.S.A.
Discográfica U.K: UK Records.
Nº de catalogo: UKAL 1007.
Diseño de portada, fotografías: Hipgnosis.
Teñido: Maurice Tate.
Gráficos: George Hardie (N.T.A).
Tracks:
Lado 1.
01 The Wall Street Shuffle.
(Stewart, Gouldman) 3:54
02 The Worst Band in the World.
(Creme, Gouldman) 2:49
03 Hotel.
(Godley, Creme) 4:54
04 Old Wild Men.
(Godley, Creme) 3:21
05 Clockwork Creep.
(Godley, Creme) 2:46
Lado 2.
06 Silly Love.
(Creme, Stewart) 4:01
07 Somewhere in Hollywood.
(Godley, Creme) 6:39
08 Baron Samedi.
(Stewart, Gouldman) 3:46
09 The Sacro-Iliac.
(Godley, Gouldman) 2:33
10 Oh Effendi.
(Stewart, Godley) 2:49
Tiempo total: 37:12 minutos.
Bonus Track - Edición C.D 1993:
11 Waterfall.
(Stewart, Gouldman) 3:43
Bonus Tracks - Edición C.D 2007:
11 18 Carat Man of Means.
(Godley, Creme, Stewart, Gouldman) 3:27
12 Gismo My Way (instrumental).
(Godley, Creme, Stewart, Gouldman) 3:43
13 The Worst Band in the World (radio version).
(Creme, Gouldman) 2:49
Vinyl Long Play - Edición U.K:
Discográfica: UK Records.
Nº de catalogo: UKAL 1007.
Portada.
Contraportada.
Interior.
Interior.
Etiquetas lados 1 y 2.
Compact Disc- Edición Alemania 2000:
Discográfica: Repertoire Records.
Nº de catalogo: 4843.
Portada.
Contraportada.
Interior.
Disco.
Booklet.
Booklet.
Booklet.
Booklet.
Matrix.
10cc:
Lol Creme: Voz, guitarra, percusión.
Graham Gouldman: Bajo, guitarra, percusión, voz.
Kevin Godley: Voz, batería, percusión.
Letras:
The Wall Street Shuffle.
(Stewart, Gouldman)
Do the Wall Street shuffle
Hear the money rustle
Watch the greenbacks tumble
Feel the sterling crumble
You need a yen to make a mark
If you wanna make money
You need the luck to make a buck
If you wanna be a Getty, Rothschild
(You've gotta be cool on Wall Street)
You've gotta be cool on Wall Street
When your index is low
Dow Jones ain't got time for the bums
They wind up on skid row with holes in their pockets
They plead with you, buddy can you spare a dime?
But you ain't got the time
Doin' the
Doin' the
Oh, Howard Hughes
Did your money make you better?
Are you waiting for the hour
When you can screw me?
'Cause you're big enough
To do the Wall Street Shuffle
Let your money hustle
Bet you'd sell your mother
You can buy another
Doin' the
Doin' the
You buy and sell
You wheel and deal
But you're living on instinct
You get a tip
You follow it
And you make a big killing
(On Wall Street).
The Worst Band in the World.
(Creme, Gouldman)
It's one thing to know it but another to admit
We're the worst band in the world
But we don't give a...
If Garbo played guitar with Valentino on the drums
Then we'd be nothing more than a bunch of darma bums
So tune up, tune up
Well we've never done a days work in our life
And our records sell in zillions
It irrigates my heart with greed
To know that you adore me
Up yours, up mine
But up everybody's that takes time -
But we're working on it
Working on it (Ooh)
We never seen the van - leave it to the roadies -
Never met the roadies - leave them in the van
All because of circumstances way beyond control
We became the darlings of this thing called rock and roll, ooh
Here I am a record on a jukebox
A little piece of plastic with a hole, ooh
Play me
Buy me and you play me then my plastic turns to gold
Here we are together on your hi fi
A little piece of plastic with a hole, oh
Fade me, fade me, fade me, fade me...
Hotel.
(Godley, Creme)
On de uber side ob de island
Dere's a sky so clear and blue
Can see, cross water, to de mainland
New life for me and you
Let's buy a hotel
Let's get a yacht
We'll get a golden island
In the sun made of coconut
Let's buy an old car
We'll crash in a hut
We'll feed the food to the Ford
And we'll live off the coconut
Well there's a big black mama
In a tree
She's gonna cook us
She's gonna call up the rest of the tribe
And it looks like the ghost of Tarzan lied
He went over to the other side
And he rang like a bell
From tree to tree
They never ever let you go
They never ever let you go
We get American menus
With all American men
We're getting sick of things American
We ate our way through half the Pentagon
We had our share of big palookas
Yankee go home
Yankee go ho ho home
They never ever let you go
They never ever let you go
Yankee go home
Yankee go ho ho home
Let's buy a hotel
Let's get a yacht
We'll get a golden island
In the sun made of coconut
Let's buy an old car
We'll crash in a hut
We'll feed the food to the Ford
And we'll live off the coconut
Well there's a big black mama in a tree
She's gonna cook us
She's gonna call up the rest of the tribe
And it looks like the ghost of Tarzan lied
He went over to the other side
And he rang like a bell
From tree to tree
Tree to tree, tree to tree
They never ever let you go
They never ever let you go
Old Wild Men.
(Godley, Creme)
Where are my boys?
They are in deepest water
Where are they now?
They are over the hill and far away
But they are broken men who lie low
Waiting for miracles
Old men of rock and roll
Came bearing music
Where are they now?
They are over the hill and far away
But they're still gonna play guitars
On dead strings, and old drums
They'll play and play to pass the time
The old wild men
Old wild men
Old wild men, waiting for miracles
Lord have mercy upon the many
Lord have mercy upon the few
Lord have mercy upon the many
Lord have mercy on me and on you
Clockwork Creep.
(Godley, Creme)
"I'm a clockwork creep
And I can't get to sleep
They wind me up and let me go
And I can't unwind
Going out of my mind
My time is coming soon you know"
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
"I'm a jumbo jet
With a brand new set
Of passengers and bags and crew
I'll spread my wings -
Do a thousand things
To prove how good I am to you"
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Meanwhile in the cargo of escargot
The temperature is rising
Advertising that our time is running
Down, down, down, down, down
Oh with just one minute to live
Oh, no you'll never get me up in one of these again
'Cause what goes up (what goes up) must come
Down, down, down, down, down
Down, down, down, down, down
Oh, the gravity of the situation
It's only my willpower
That keeps this thing in operation
But we're gonna crash that's for certain
The pilot is too busy flirtin'
And he ain't aware
That there's a bomb down there
And if he don't do something it's curtains
"Now just hold on"
Said the little bomb,
"If you were just to hold my hands
Then time would stop
The plot would flop
And jumbo would be safe to land"
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
My landings are the envy
Of Sabena and Pan Am
From Chattanooga to Japan
I taxi through the airways -
What a safe little plane
What a fine little plane
What a great little plane
I am
"Hang on one sec
I'm a clockwork wreck
And though my fuse is burning slow
Must keep my date to detonate
Goodbye, ta ta, and cheerio
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a..."
Silly Love.
(Creme, Stewart)
Hey, toots, you put the life into living
You brought a sigh into sight
Oh, hon, you make my legs turn to water
You bring the stars out at night
But they ain't half as bright as your eyes
Gee whiz, you take the beauty out of beautiful
You play the strings of my heart
Oh, babe, you take the wonder out of wonderful
Oh, my, oh, my, and my, if you were mine
The rain would turn to sweet, sweet wine
Well, he's been up all night
Breakin' his head in two to write
A little sonnet for his chickadee
But between you and me I think it's silly
Silly
Ooh, treas, you got a smile like a Rembrandt
Aha, you got the style of a queen
Oh, dear, you are the petal of a rosebud
Next to you all the others could be weeds
You're the only one my garden needs
Ooh, you know the art of conversation must be dying
Ooh, when a romance depends on cliches and toupees and threepes
We're up to here with moonin' and junin'
If you want to sound sincere
Don't rely on Crosby's croonin'
Take a little time
Make up your own rhyme
Don't rely on mine
'Cause it's
Silly
Silly
Silly
Silly
Somewhere in Hollywood.
(Godley, Creme)
Down on the casting couch
A star is gonna be born
A star with the stature of a Harlow
Who's doomed
And groomed to enrapture
All her co-stars, and stuntmen, the co-stars
Oh, let there be lights, action, sound
Lights, action, sound - Roll 'em!
Out in the mezzanine
On the arm of a dumb marine
Her beauty looks out like a trailer
Norman Mailer
Waits to nail her
He's under the bed
And he's waiting for her to be dead
He's out on the patio
With his polaroid and scenario
And he's armed and he's dangerously...
Close was the weather
When I was a kid
She gave me a feather from her gown
To cool me down, to cool me down
And I was the galley slave
Who lost his heart when the ship went down
Lights, action, sound
Roll 'em
I had a part in the talkies
When you were a little girl
I've taken Lassie for walkies
When she was the pup that Vaudeville threw up
And destiny lead her
Hand in paw to somewhere
In Hollywood
That's crazy, a dog up in Beverly Hills
Crazy, crazy
La, la, la, la, la... (You better lie low)
Baron Samedi.
(Stewart, Gouldman)
I'll show you man who walk on fire
And don't get burned
Don't get burned, don't get burned
He don't get burned
I'll show you man who tread on glass
And he don't get cut
Don't get cut, don't get cut
He don't get cut
You can take a knife and slit his throat
And he won't drop dead
Won't drop dead, won't drop dead
He won't drop dead
Been a ju-ju boy for a thousand years
And he ain't cut yet
Ain't cut yet, ain't cut yet
He ain't cut yet
Hold 'em
You've got to crease 'em and fold 'em
You've got to shape 'em and mould 'em
Take a piece of their soul man
Well he can take a little moonlight
Suck the poison from a snakebite
Movin' round about midnight
He's got the power of life
See the sacrifice of the virgin women
See the deadly snake and the headless chicken
Take a sip from dripping red
Make it with the living dead
Take you up when you feeling down
When you're sick he will come around
Takes his cures from out the ground
He's the one who can hypnotize
And you'll never believe your eyes
He can cause the dead to rise
The Sacro-Iliac.
(Godley, Gouldman)
Here's a new dance that you all can do
Baby, baby, what's he gonna do?
Sit back and relax 'cause it's good for you
Baby, baby, what's he gonna do?
What's he gonna say?
He's takin' my breath away
Well if you're tired of doing the Boogaloo
And you're afraid of doing the Swim
'Cause you think you will drown
In the noise of the record
And the klutz on the floor
He ain't there anymore
'Cause all you wanna do
Is be alone at the bar
All you wanna do is be alone at the bar
You wanna drown in your cocktail
You wanna leave with the laundry
If your mind is trippin'
But your disc is slippin'
Here's what you gotta do -
Nothing
In any tempo and any rhythm
C'mon Mac do the sacro-iliac
C'mon back do the sacro-iliac
I said c'mon back do the sacro-iliac
Well it's easy
Here's the new dance that you'll wanna do
So easy
Don't want to annoy ya with my paranoia
Now I'm doing the dance that is good for me
Baby, baby, what's it gonna be?
I ain't no Astaire, but I've a right to be
Baby, baby, when's he gonna learn?
Where's he gonna stay?
He's taken my breath away
Well I'm bored with the beat of the Shing-a-ling
And the Lindy is leaving me cold
'Cause I've never been freaky or funky or laid back
And the lush on the floor
Isn't me anymore
And I never ever wanna be alone
At the bar
Never ever wanna be alone at the bar
So C'mon Mac do the sacro-iliac
C'mon back do the sacro-iliac
Won't you c'mon back do the sacro-iliac
C'mon back do the sacro-iliac
Won't you come on back do the sacro-iliac
Oh Effendi.
(Stewart, Godley)
In the middle of a caravan
On a four wheel drive oasis
There's a man with a thought in mind
To cash in on the desert faces
He's got a truckload of Yorkshire girls
For your harem going places
And the border bums never saw
The guns in the whiskey cases
There's a real, big demand
And it's written in the palm of his hand
He's gonna change the face of the desert
He's gonna sweep away the sand
Hang on sheik, I've got a yellow streak
I ain't here, I'm a mirage
Get back Des, keep it under your fez
And don't give us away in the massage
Look what I did for the pyramid
I put a pool in and made it pay
I built an elevator and a film theatre
And I shipped it to the U.S.A.
'Cause there's a real big demand
And it's written in the palm of my hand
I'm gonna change the face of the desert
I'm gonna sweep away the sand
Hang on friends!
There's a lot more goodies in the pipeline
So this ain't the time to close the deal
Here's the deal
Ooh, now you've got a Howitzer all of your own
Ooh, and a Panzer division to chauffeur you home
Gun running is fun
But hang on, friends, hang on friends
Allah be praised, there's a whole new craze
We're gonna shoot up the foreign legion
And it's up with the sheik
And down with the frog
We're gonna liberate the region!
Oh Effendi, we're gonna bury your head in the sand
Oh Effendi, you better get off my doggone land
Hey, Prince of the moonbeams
Son of the Sun,
Light of a thousand stars
Your gorillas are urban
And there's bourbon on your turban
And the sun shines out of your ass
Oh Effendi, I'm gonna grovel in your wake
Oh Effendi, it's all been a big mistake
You're gonna cut out my liver
If I don't deliver
Things are getting out of hand
I'm going to ride off into the sunset and
Make a deal with the promised land
Goodbye friends
There's no more goodies in the pipeline
Promo:
UK Records - Anuncio.
Enlaces:
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario