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Eric Blowtorch Plays Himself​!​!

by Eric Blowtorch

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  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    12" vinyl LPLP featuring EB on all instruments, including guitar, bass, keys, drumkit, percussion, and trumpet.
    Engineered by Shane Olivo at Bobby Peru Recording.
    Cover photo by Peter DiAntoni.

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  • Full Digital Discography

    27
    releases

    Get all 27 Eric Blowtorch releases available on Bandcamp and save 40%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Been So Down, Bluegrass Kas, Too Many Dues, Quality Items, Groping in the Dark, Straight to Hell, Most Dangerous Man, Salt Water, and 19 more. , and , .

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1.
Enter Password 02:23
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Good G_d, look what we’ve got – look around at all the rot Can’t stop the rot with a fine fox trot Bloodclot, what a lonesome lot – not even pisspot Heaven’s heating up, well hot Enter Password Ctrl + Alt + Delete – wake up and hit the street Hit the beat now and don’t retreat Springs in your feet, you make your life complete With every breath death itself defeat I know it’s not easy but in my head it’s clearly cut, in my heart and in my gut, from haute down to in hut A future polyglot giving you a polyglot Never no more cell doors slamming shut We could be working, all one family We could be living how we like Work it with me, workingmate, every occupation great Working and living we don’t have to separate We could do decent deeds at a reasonable rate instead of working at one job we hate We’re much too polite – we have the reason and the right, worldwide allies black, brown, beige, pink, and white We have the spirit, the muscle and the might We only need the will and we’ll be straight We could be working, all one family We could be living how we like I’ll grab my coat and tie and hat, join the proletariat We got one life, this is it – this is no time to quit Ask the peacenik and the vet, even though it’s shibboleth No retreat – wake up and hit the street
2.
The Powerbrokers 02:41
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Tell me, tell me, tell me Tell me, did you feel when you were 17 that you could come up and save all sanity, seize the day? Did you get drunk and say your 21st birthday that everything would be all right and then it wasn’t? You could never in your wildest nightmares touch the turbine that drives the brokers mad with power and drives the working man to an early death Did you pass out papers in the cold winter air? Did you hand in proceeds with hardly a care? Did you dig the Republicrat Party when you got jaded on G_d You couldn’t care anymore, yes, you accepted your lot Still you could never in the red rage of youth discern the horrible truth that man will do as he is bred and you were merely bred to be led The powerful people stare out in disbelief at a scorched planet surface in zero relief The powerbrokers take the train to the subterrain ‘cause isotopes take too long to decay If you ever glom on to anything in common with the power-crazed, money-hungry zealot of the Right, don’t shudder rubbing shoulders Outside is where it’s coldest See your light in the dying of someone else’s See your light in the dying of someone else’s See your light in the dying of someone else’s light
3.
Please Worry Baby 02:16
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What maketh a man, what maketh a woman to worry? Why wait 25 years after the hurt to cry? What maketh the busy boy running for the bus to hurry? Why can’t I dry the teardrop from your eye? Please to worry, baby Please to worry now, baby – I’ve done you wrong Please to worry, baby Please to worry – my love for you is strong What profit it a worker to work all day without reason? What maketh the money to fall down from the sky? Who gave the gun to the child for the child to seize gun? Why must we die and why, oh, why ask why? Please to worry, baby Please to worry now, baby – I’ve done you wrong Please to worry, baby Please to worry now, baby – my love is strong Worry now, worry now Worry now, worry now One to worry, two to worry, three to worry I tend to worry What maketh a man, what maketh a woman to worry? Why wait 25 years after the hurt to cry? What maketh the busy boy running for the bus to hurry? Why must we died and why, oh, why ask why? Please to worry, baby Please to worry now, baby – I’ve done you wrong Please to worry, baby Please to worry – my love for you is strong Please to worry, baby Please to worry now, baby – I’ve done you wrong Please to worry, baby Please to worry now, baby – my love is strong
4.
Nowhere 02:32
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Hello there I come from nowhere Don’t even go there without a mohair Absolute zero – it’s below there Nowhere To get to nowhere you got to know where to waste your hours Don’t smell the flowers ‘cause they’re nowhere Nowhere It isn’t hard to find It isn’t very far It’s not a state of mind Put your hands on the hood of the car and you’re nowhere Take a deep, deep breath – no breathing nowhere Just the smell’ll grow hair Some say it’s no fair that some are living nowhere Where’s the landlord? Of course he’s nowhere Nowhere’s where I’m headed You might be going too Who you working for? You ain’t working for you nowhere Nowhere Now you’re nowhere Don’t kid yourself you’re somewhere Crawling, not climbing I seen you five-and-diming I’ll see you right back nowhere Nowhere
5.
Burn! Burn! Burn! 02:29
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Burn, brother! Burn, sister! Burn, motherfucker! Burn it up! Mister Boss, Mister Boss, I’m dying, I’m dead in my head Mister Boss, Mister Boss, over years I keep you well fed Mister Boss, Mister Boss, no longer I’m gathering moss Mister Boss, Mister Boss, it’s your loss when your fat ass I to the winds toss Making a living is coming, is coming like dying I’ve been giving and giving; now I’m sick to my dying of trying to please you, please you – got to burn! Burn! Destroy the impulse to earn! Turn! Turn! Abandon laws I labored to learn Ta raas, Mister Boss, I’m taking my torch to the biz, Mister Boss Good gosh, Mister Boss, I’m dousing in depression in gin fizz – the sauce Mister Boss, Mister Boss, over years I keep you well fed Mister Boss, Mister Boss, in five minutes I make you see red I’ve quit crying and lying to myself that my sorrow you’re buying You’re pie-in-the-skying with your plans – well, I’ll foul up your flying and burn! Burn! Destroy the impulse to earn! Turn! Turn! Abandon laws I labored to learn Mister Boss, I don’t hate and never could my underclassmate Mister Boss, I’m afraid you’ve arrived and turned off the gas late Had to take it to you, had to burn! Burn! Destroy the impulse to earn! Turn! Turn! Abandon laws I labored to learn Burn! Burn! Burn! To the kiddies in the high schools Burn! Burn! Burn! To the ladies with the crew cuts Burn! Burn! Burn! To filtration plant operators Burn! Burn! Burn! To the telephone masturbators Burn!
6.
Sufferation City 02:50
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In the city of sufferation sufferers find crumbs from a slummer’s vacation Scows used to drag the garbage to the ocean Cheap labor still keeps cash in motion In the city of suffocation flowers rise up out the cracks in the Ford Foundation The promised land of old was Goshen Now peddlers can’t even peddle own lotions Sufferers climb 10 stories to paint their name in a city that promises nothing but famine and flame In the city of such frustration teen queen dreams of love at underground train station Young warriors step with aggression and extend their little friend to fend off the depression Fortune was never the artist’s and who wants fame? Not you, not me – who can you blame? In the city of segregation families live and die in one square mile for generations in the heart of the planet, in the bowels, in this iration in the city of sufferation
7.
Boy Meets Angel 01:31
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South Side, North Side Tried but he couldn’t hide Iggy’s singing “Gimme Danger” She’s snide, he’s tongue tied It’s raining outside Inside boy meets angel She looks 21 and lots of fun and maybe can buy some legal Haskels are opening Milwaukee’s hope is hoping and Playing for the take and big break They go to their sets not knowing they’d meet again, their first great love as Ticketron portend He and his friend are in half-empty heaven while she’s digging through her friend’s purse writing, “384-5737” North Side, South Side Still that great divide Keeps young hearts apart Haskels broke up Iggy still chokes ‘em up, fixing his broken part She’s married, he’s carried memories buried, she raised a family Strange? No He’s got a rental near the Oriental where boy met angel
8.
I Kissed You Twice 01:45
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I kissed you twice before I could tell you voice from your sister’s I shouted, “Oh-wee-oh,” as day became night and flicked on the light to find my watch had stopped, stopped at the exact coordinates of our first communiqué, soiree Get away, inhibition, my mouth is dishin’ you compliments so appropriate I can’t believe my ears – my tongue don’t slip The membranes of the lip have very sensitive stretch receptors so now we know we’re not bent scepters and you will always think of me this year – never fear, dear, I’m here Please do your damndest to make it this year Dear G_d, give us more days like these as your smile guides me to the aisle We’re so happy, so beguiled our hearts have gone away to needy recipients, so make like a helpful pupil, pass the pencil I kissed you twice before I could tell you voice from your sister’s Never dismissed or dissed, still I reminisce: sitting on the edge of your bed and playing Twister I lost you before I could tell you how much you gave me
9.
Wisconsin Works 02:46
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Motherhood: your first mistake – ooh! Being black: bad habit, we’ll have to break you Bad luck – Wisconsin’s had a spate Welcome to the corporate welfare state, est. 1848 Drop that deadbeat child wherever you can Get out of the house with our exciting program We’ve been waiting too long on prison industry Wisconsin Works and you’re gonna work for free Wisconsin Works with a smile, smile, smile, smile Got your face in file, sold your ass down Menomonee Wisconsin Works, so get to work, work, work Do your party for the slave economy You want to pick up a skill? Here’s a hole, here’s a drill You want education? We’ve got ditches to fill You want to raise a family? Well, give ‘em to me More stable than school or sandbox, I am slavery Thompson, Hudson, Bradley, Murray put you in production in a fury of white plutocrat pomps and pride The pimps and politicians will not be denied Wisconsin Works with a smile, smile, smile, smile Got your face in file, sold your ass down Menomonee Wisconsin Works, so get to work, work, work Do your party for the slave economy
10.
Plastic Yellow Ribbons 02:23
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From sea to shining sea yellow ribbons proclaim their sympathy: Support Our Troops, Mini to SUV Ribbons made in foreign factory Ribbons made on private property Ribbons made by those not free They tell us, as if we were in the infantry, Let it be, rubber-stamp the GOP and do the will of chickenhawk Cheney Ribbons made by those not free and they remind you of your own frailty and they remind you of your own mortality and they remind you to see nothing but what you see on ABC and NBC and Fox TV and NYT and BMG, T-i-m-e, Warner B, the Big Three, the whole damned S&P The flags we wave, the prayers we’ve prayed, talking points we’ve said, Memorial Day parades mean nothing to the dead, even less at the VA like ribbons made by those unpaid Ribbons made by those enslaved Ribbons made to cash in on melee Even BP and ExxonMobil Company will tell you that you cannot export liberty but that don’t stop the spree Plastic ribbons aren’t free Put your wheels in P I beg you to think
11.
Across the Manchurian Border 03:47
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Receive the Mandate of Heaven Recreate the Great Dynasty of emperors of T’ang and clang go the klaxons Murder is in your mind, blood is in your eye Just like Barbarians, just like the Anglo-Saxons Hear the sound of ethnic pride Smell the smell of genocide Here come the guns, the guns of law and order Here come the conquerors across the Manchurian Border Remember the Boxers, you There goes your Empress Wu Goodbye to Nestor, Mani, Buddha, Christ, and Zoroaster Just like in ninth century you will bow to theocracy and on Wall Street take British tea peacefully Hear the sound of ethnic pride Smell the smell of genocide Here come the guns, the guns of law and order Here come the conquerors across the Manchurian Border Here comes opium, here comes trade, Most Favored Nation status and the Jesus brigade, Emperor Hung well hung with religion Hold western greed in new esteem Carnage carried out in a civil servant’s dream Manchurians died in a mystical vision Manchus, you was only a test of the Japanese Army’s best You’re a client state; the Soviets were willing to wait Civil war brought an end to the end, Mao marching ‘round the bend The Mandate of Heaven fell with Tibet Hear the sound of ethnic pride Smell the smell of genocide Here come the guns, the guns of law and order Here come the conquerors across the Manchurian Border Here come the conquerors across the Manchurian Border Here come the conquerors across the Manchurian Border
12.
Welcome to Death Row 02:19
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Welcome to Death Row, express service to G_d only know Where the private and public sectors prove and show TQM techniques in behavior control Welcome to Death Row where even the wealthiest never get to go Only the luckiest admitted down below the highest standards of justice on the globe Our god demanded sacrifice and so we found it in our hearts to divert the tax flow from the guillotine to Sparky to the needle, now you know Check your cameras and tape decks at the door Welcome to Death Row, closure for the families, closure for the poll that elected angry angels to the High Courts, yo, you’re a killer diller, killer, so are we, so here we go Welcome to Death Row
13.
Veteran's Day 03:05
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It’s now November Be in by 5:30, remember the blue sky goes black, every member of the neighborhood chains up they doors Today we remember soldiers survived and passed away Bouquets on some lawns It must be Veteran’s Day When there were flowers in the trees you could see the casualties lounging on their porches For dead friend they’re packing torches They can roll, yeah, they can drive and thank G_d they’re still alive They can think and talk, my friend, but they will never walk again It’s Veteran’s Day A sad remembrance day Give the boys from this great way something worth fighting for It’s Veteran’s Day Phone disconnections play I’m trying to get hold of the soldiers I’m alone at the end of the line So come honor the veterans of foreign wars and all the boys growing old while the bloody rain pours Bring out your scorchers for the scorching Leave your cars, cocaine, and your fortune It’s Veteran’s Day A sad remembrance day Give the boys from this great way something worth dying for It’s Veteran’s Day Phone disconnections play I’m trying to get hold of the soldiers I’m alone at the end of the line
14.
Down to My Last Dollar 02:04
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Landlord banging on the door haranguing me for rent What rent? I ask – I’m poor – I haven’t got a cent I’ve joined the bulging ranks of the empty wallets You might call it destitution but do you know what I call it? Happiness Peace of mind Tranquility Poverty I’m down to my very last dollar Counting out pennies, simplifying recipes Are you down with me? We lead, we follow I’ve lost the lot but I’ve taken back the rest of me Friends I thought were friends have fallen off the earth The ground they were standing on opened up and gave new birth To friends who want me, not my things or my appliances Goodbye to the old, hello to new alliances and… Happiness Peace of mind Tranquility Poverty I’m down to my very last dollar Counting out pennies, simplifying recipes Are you down with me? We lead, we follow I’ve lost the lot but I’ve taken back the rest of me
15.
Riding in His Car 02:15
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You’re riding in his car now I’m trying to get back from the bad side of town to you I always wondered how the poor folks crossed over that dirty old river You’re looking a mite housebound It’s a pain to the heart just running into you and running into the ground the few proud moments, the boomin’ components, pointless vacations, aberrations, loving rations No solace you have found I control the concept, I control the console The memory is safe and sound on the back of a dirty matchbook – lot of inspiration that took, bus station photo strips and my letters stained with teardrips You’re riding in his car now I’m trying to get back from the bad side of town to you You’re finding your friends out and how You’re riding in his car now
16.
Albion Begat Columbia? 02:54
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Albion begat Columbia? Irish boys in the lumber yard Strong stock – many, many Angle, many Saxon made lightbulbs dangle America built by Christian? Good houses put here by Puritan In Arizona there’s a chasm, in stout English hearts a spasm Albion begat Columbia or was it Asian, Apache? African, Arawak? We struck a match, we started something swinging Ring in the new, brown, yellow, red, white, and blue Communist, caveman, conservative Constitution – cool, now we have to live After the biggest clash we threw the most expensive bash African delivered freedom from the last Now, for sustenance, citizens sift through our trash Alien bloodlines congregated and laid down railway from state to state, defended our right to agitate Before ballgames we hum hymns we love to hate All Benjamin’s children’s children learn the lies of histories composed in Pluto’s reverie Love thy neighbor – will ever we?
17.
Faith, Hope and Love 04:13
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You stepped upon the planet surface like something from Mad Max Parents feared you, the big boys jeered you You never could relax Standing still was for suckers, sister, old men and heartless hags Barely serene on the barstool, queen, you had hangups and I had bags Pride goes before a weight drop Truck drivers drive until the last stop Punk rockers pogo ‘til the last blast Faith and hope and love are virtues The greatest of these is love Have you gone to a place that will suit you in the heavens highest above or have you gone to the place for little girls never satisfied to come back blazing with a vengeance? You could have stayed, you could have tried Your angry heart kept us apart Your sweet, sweet soul had precious little control You chose some friends unwisely, your smile hypnotized me You strode with so much soul Pride goes before a weight drop Truck drivers drive until the last stop Punk rockers pogo ‘til the last blast Faith and hope and love are virtues The greatest of these is love Have you gone to a place that will suit you in the heavens highest above? You strode right off the planet surface with little or no fanfare Only tears from the boys, no more jeers, no more dancing in your underwear I haven’t got words for your mother I haven’t snapshots saved, but, for the laugher you gave and because you were brave I place this flower on your grave Pride goes before a weight drop Truck drivers drive until the last stop Punk rockers pogo ‘til the last blast Glamor girls pose in hand-me-down hose Diving bombers take it on the nose and, by nightfall, they’re free at last Faith and hope and love are virtues The greatest of these is love Have you gone to a place that will suit you in the heavens highest above?

about

In October 2001, singer/guitarist Eric Blowtorch entered Bobby Peru’s House of Onan on Milwaukee’s south side with a guitar, an amplifier, and an idea: to have the writer perform his own songs as cover versions, with such past classics as Thelonious Monk Plays Duke Ellington and Ella Fitzgerald’s songbook series in mind.

E. B. and engineer/co-conspirator Shane Olivo worked together to create a full-band album of musical variety, with E. B. playing all instrumental parts and singing all vocals. This did not prove to be a time- or money-saving tactic. The album took 10 years to arrange, record, rearrange, and mix.

The resulting 17-track album is Eric Blowtorch Plays Himself, now available on Simmerdown Productions vinyl LP and as a digital download through most online outlets. Lars Kvam of the Flower Children and Joe Vent of the Yell Leaders are proclaiming it as E. B.’s finest work to date.

Eric Blowtorch Plays Himself features punky reggae, honky-tonk ska, and psychedelic nyahbingi in the form of “Enter Password,” “Down to My Last Dollar,” and “Across the Manchurian Border.” The old Blowtorch soul spasm “The Powerbrokers” retains the ranting poetic quality as when performed so long ago by Belsha, Beaumont, and Tanzilo.

“Please Worry Baby,” an answer song 38 years delayed, was cowritten by Tom and Andy Noble on a sunny Independence Day in 1997, and features E. B. as one-man mbaqanga jive band. In the cleanup spot, “Nowhere,” a conga-heavy rant inspired by Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros’ 2001 masterpiece Global A-Go-Go, represents everybody’s eventual hometown with bitter humor that is not for everybody. “Sufferation City,” with prominent Rhythm Ace and the quietest drumkit ever mixed into a rock ‘n’ roll song, represents New York City from a loving visitor’s critical perspective.

On November 19, 1979, Iggy Pop played Milwaukee’s Oriental Theatre, supported by the Haskels. “Boy Meets Angel,” featuring E. B. as jazz quartet, reveals what else happened that night. E. B. beatboxes in multitrack on the jenk-funk breakup ditty “I Kissed You Twice.”

Wisconsinites nostalgic for Tommy Thompson may object to “Wisconsin Works Waltz,” with plucked fretted acoustical guitars inspired by E. B.’s star student Haley Butler and her schoolmates. “Plastic Yellow Ribbons,” with 20-plus vocal arrangement copped from Vera Lynn and lyrics inspired by Dick Cheney and overseas manufacturers of Support Our Troops decals, features E. B. on good trumpet. “Albion Begat Columbia?,” a march about the peculiar relationship between England and the United States, features E. B. on bad trumpet.

“Welcome to Death Row” has nothing to do with Suge Knight. On “Veterans’ Day,” E. B. marries the earnestness of Springsteen with the Anglo dread of Public Image Ltd. The rhythm track of the Alessis beatbox-driven “Riding in His Car” was recorded 20 years ago in the living room of the fourth-floor east apartment at Vista del Mar on Belleview Place. “Faith, Hope and Love” is a belated goodbye.

credits

released January 1, 2013

All instruments: E.B.
All vocals*: E.B.

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Eric Blowtorch Milwaukee, Wisconsin

Singer/guitarist/songwriter Eric Blowtorch sings, plays, and writes reggae, ska, rocksteady, soul, rock 'n' roll, funk, Latin, disco, hip-hop, Anglo-Afropop, and jazz songs with rhythm, melody, passion, and original comic timing. E. B. plays solo, in small combos, and with a band, Eric Blowtorch and the Bodyguards. ... more

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