Spare Parts I [A Nocturnal Emission], Nighthawks At The Diner, Tom Waits [032]

For the final tracks of Nighthawks, Sam and Martin are joined by Andrea Solomon, talking from the start about the jazz stylings of the album and its instrumentalists, the dual attitude of Waits towards relationships, as well as the relative temperatures of well-digger's posteriors, ticket-takers smiles and gut-shot bitch-dogs… not to mention frozen husky-urine. Song by Song is Martin Zaltz Austwick and Sam Pay; two musicians listening to and discussing every single Tom Waits track in chronological order. website: songbysongpodcast.com twitter: @songbysongpod e-mail: [email protected] Music extracts used for illustrative/review purposes include: Spare Parts I (A Nocturnal Emission), Nighthawks At The Diner, Tom Waits (1975) Nanook Rubs It, Apostrophe('), Frank Zappa (1974) We think your Song by Song experience will be enhanced by hearing, in full, the songs featured in the show, which you can get hold of from your favourite record shop or online platform. Please support artists by buying their music, or using services which guarantee artists a revenue - listen responsibly. Lyrics - Spare Parts I Well, the dawn cracked hard just like a bullwhip Cause it wasn't taking no lip from the night before And it shook out the streets, as the stew bums showed up Like bounced checks, rubbing their necks And the sky turned the color of Pepto-Bismol Yeah, and the parking lots growled My old sport coat full of promissory notes And a receipt from a late night motel The hawk had his whole family out there in the wind And he got a message for you to beware Kicking your ass in, in a cold-blooded fashion And dishing out more than a good man can bear And I got shoes untied, my shirttail is out Ain't got a ghost of a chance with this old romance Just an apartment for rent down the block Ivar Theater with live burlesque Man, the manager's scowling, with his feet on the desk Boom boom against the curtain, you're still hurting, ay-ay And then push came to shove, and shove came to biff Girls like that just lay you out stiff Maybe I'll go to Cleveland and, you know, get me a tattoo or something My brother-in-law lives there And it's a skid mark tattoo on the asphalt blue Was that a Malibu? Vroooooom, vroooooom Yeah, it's Liz Taylor and Montgomery Clift Coming on to the broads with the same old riff, yeah 'Hey baby, why don't you come up to my place? We'll listen to some smooth music on the stereo' eh-he-he' 'No thank you,' she said, eh-he-he, 'you got any Stan Getz records?' 'No man, I got eh... Smothers Brothers' So I combed back my Detroit, jacked up my pegs I wiped my Stacy Adams' and I jackknifed my legs Yeah, I got designs on a moving violation Yeah baby, you put me on hold and I'm out in the wind And it's getting mighty cold It's colder than a gut-shot bitch wolf dog with nine sucking pups pulling a number-four trap up a hill in the dead of winter In the middle of a snowstorm with a mouth full of porcupine quills Well, I don't need you, baby You see, it's a well known fact, you know I'm four sheets to the wind, I'm glad you're gone I'm glad you're gone, cause I'm finally alone Glad you're gone, but I wish you'd come home Yeah, and I struggled out of bed Cause the dawn was cracking hard just like a bullwhip And it wasn't taking no lip from the night before Yeah, as it shook out the streets and the stew bums showed up Just like bounced checks, rubbing their necks And the sky turned the color of Pepto-Bismol And my old sport coat full of promissory notes And the hawk had his whole family out there in the wind He got a message for you to beware Kicking your ass in, in a cold blooded fashion He'll be dishing out more than a good man can bear Well let's take it to Bakersfield, get a little apartment somewhere