The Skirts Dynamic Backing Vocal Ensemble
Donné Restom, Charlie Craib (Rumpunch, La Tarantella), Monica Brooks, Audrey Gbaguidi, Ellen Kirkwood (Fat Yahoozah), Louise Nutting (Wartime Sweethearts), Brian Campeau (Green Mohair Suits, Rescue Ships), Adam Moses (Marcia Hines), Mev Stuart
The Shirtfront Rhythm Section
Drums - James Hauptmann (The Van, bluejuice), Mick Stuart (Ninja the Bungee, Limbo) Jamie Cameron (Luke Escombe and The Corporation, The Vegetable Plot)
Bass Guitar - Mev Stuart, Mick Stuart (The Renovators, Limbo)
Electric and Acoustic Rhythm Guitar - Mev Stuart
Keyboards, Organ & Synthesizer - Jerry Craib (bluejuice)
The Pants Percussion Section
Hand Percussion - Mev Stuart, Matt Ward (Slimey Things), James Hauptmann
Bongos - Ian Watson (Extended Family)
Congas - Matt Ward
The Patent Leather Lead Players
Lead Guitar - Mick Stuart (Superheavyweights, Mr Ott), Mev Stuart, Dave Sattout (Facemeat, Fat Yahoozah, Angry Darts) , Aaron 'BAZ' Flower (AKA BAZ, Zoe and the Buttercups, Luke Escombe and The Corporation)
Synthesizers - Jerry Craib (bluejuice), Luke Dubber (Ninja the Bungee, Hermitude), Lloyd Barrett
The Undergarment String Section
Violin - Natalya Bing (Hinterlandt Ensemble), Daniel Weltlinger (Lulo Reinhardt), Bronwyn Cumbo (Hinterlandt Ensemble)
Cello - Sorcha Albuquerque
The Top Hat Blowers
Alto Sax - Ross Harrington (Midnight Tea Party, Basement Big Band), Matt Handel (Leanne Paris Band), Mick Stuart (Rumpunch)
Tenor Sax - Gregg Telian (Fig), Loretta Palmeiro (Spy Glass Gypsies, Sirens), Dave Weir (The Weird Assembly), Matt Handel
Baritone Sax - Ian 'Pissflaps' Pieterse (Rica Tetas, Slimey Things, Petulant Frenzy)
Trumpet - Simon Ferenci (Sonic Mayhem Orchestra, Basement Big Band), Ellen Kirkwood (Fat Yahoozah, Facemeat, Sirens Big Band)
Trombone - Mikey Raper (Cumbia Muffin, Basement Big Band)
The Cummerbund Cameo Appearers
Dom Santangelo (Godfrey Uke, The Vegetable Plot), Nick Perry, Louise Nutting, Chris Wilcox, Nate Farrell, Naomi Fraser, Meowee
Special Thanks
Emma Pressman, Sam Stuart, Max Stuart, Gina Stuart, Dave Sattout, Daniel McIvor, Meg Panucci, Dan Shine, Henry Everingham, Robert Moss, Rita Almohty, Carla Pressman, Terry Serio, Casey Bennetto, Alon Ilsar, Josh 'Lampy' Ahearn, Ruth Wells, Byron Mark, Danny Pliner, Alice Terry, Ali Flett, Nancy Leawok, Aaron O'Neill, Heath McAnally (deceased), Mike Silk, and Bill Burns Brown.
Origination
The project was originally started by me (Mev Stuart) and Jerry Craib in 2007.
I was working in Financial Services as a Business Process Analyst, and Jerry was playing keys in bluejuice and working for APRA. We were living in the same street.
Jerry came over one afternoon to watch the Classic Albums Steely Dan Aja video, and we said, we should take the piss out of this! We got into my home studio and started that night. Jerry laid down a few keyboard tracks over a shit drum pattern I slapped together. 2 days later I'd written "Big Idiot" (not featured on this record), and the horrible ride had begun.
Jerry looked at me in my grey suit and terrible tie and said, "Suit & Tie. That's the name."
Our first byline was "This is horrible". Mike Silk commented on our MySpace page, "No, it's great!", so we changed the byline to "This is like swallowing silk".
The writing process soon changed. I would come up with the basis for the songs and record them roughly with midi, then Jerry would come over and put his indelible stamp on them, turning them from one dimensional Mev garbage into Suit & Tie songs.
Over the years there were many breaks in the flow, where one or both of us were too busy or away on tour (I toured around Oz with Keating! the Musical most of 2008, and bluejuice had just made a breakthrough on the Oz charts) 2009-2011 was when most of the songs on this record were written, but it usually took several weeks or months for Jerry to find the time to add his parts and ideas to them, so the whole thing slowed down, and at times, stopped completely.
There was always input from Mick Stuart on the finer points of the arrangements, like, "Nup. That synth has to go", or, "You should reharmonise that bassline instead of pedalling for the whole fucking song", or "MODULATION!!" He's not getting any writing credit on the record though.
Same with Luke Dubber, who was living with me, Mick and Dom Santangelo at Audley Manor when most of the songs were written. He would pop his head into my room and say things like, "I reckon this chorus should be in another key, man. Bit stagnant." He's not getting any "creative input" credit either.
Alon Ilsar (The Colors, The Sticks) chimed in occasionally with helpful drum tips like, "You could go off the rim and put the full snare on the 2 of each bar in this solo section man, fuck!". No creative input credit for him.
We always wanted many players to play on the record, at least one of them flown in from Helsinki to play 8 bars of a song. That never happened. In the end the record ended up with a paltry 32 players.
The Suit & Tie Way
It's simple: I write the songs, I record the tracks, I produce the songs, I tell the musicians what to play and when to play it, and if it's not done that way, it gets deleted. If they do it in one take, it gets edited. If they have an idea that I like, it's mine now.
The Songs of Creep Season
Infected | (Mev Stuart)
This was originally a lampoon of a local keys player who shall remain nameless. It was to be "you're infected with my groove". Nup. An STI theme very quickly progressed. I went to the Townie (Town Hall Hotel, Newtown) for some inspiration.
Jerry made me change the third verse because it was shit, and I'm glad he did. I subsequently rendered the line, "...I can't wait for another chance to delight..."
Lead vocal: Mev, trying desperately to invoke Walter Becker.
Backing Vocals: Donné Restom, Charlie Craib, Monica Brooks and Brian Campeau. "Girls, it's 'pussaaayyy'. Ok? Let's go again."
Drums: James Hauptmann. The original drummer on the track was Grant Gerathy (John Butler Trio), but he straightened out the feel and pulled it back a bit in the chorus, and ultimately I wasn't feeling it. His takes were bang on, but I wanted the chorus swung. We got James to replace it, and this time I used the Suit & Tie Way.
Bass and rhythm guitars, percussion: Mev
Keys: Jerry.
Lead Guitar: Aaron 'BAZ' Flower plays the opening guitar solo. He was fresh off winning the 2009 Bell Award for Young Australian Jazz Artist of the Year, and I thought that might help. Suit & Tie Way for him.
Horns: Ian 'Pissflaps' Pieterse plays the saxes. "Ian, it's a whole-tone series mate." "But it doesn't sound quite right against the guitar line". Suit & Tie Way.
Lyrics
I met her at the Pick-up Hotel, let me tell you she was something else
She was much more than a maybe; pretty soon she had me hot as hell (yeaahhh)
Two minutes, and we're out the door, walking quite briskly to my car
At that point I had some wood, and I swear I could smell her pusseh (pussaayy!)
Well a week goes by without incident, then I notice itchy scratchy there - down there!
Whoa sista, I think that's a blista!
Better book an appointment, yaaahhhh
Doctor doctor will it be okay?
Just my genitals - redder every day!!
(Shit!) You're infected, baby you're infected!
Oh god there's some nasty shit going around
(No!) You're infected, baby you're infected
I really regret having sex with you now
Well I've been on myself every night
Rubbin - rubbin in that cream - medical cream, oh yah
But I can't wait for another chance to delight
So I'm back on the one night stand scene
(One night - ohh yeahh!!)
Hey honeh I'm feelin just fine and I'm gonna show you a good time
No we don't need protection - I'm clean if you're clean
And you're clean, right?
(babe I'll introduce you to my doktaahh)
Doctor doctor will it be okay?
If I just ignore it, will it go away?
(Shit!) You're infected, baby you're infected!
Oh god there's some nasty shit going around
(No!) You're infected, baby you're infected
I really regret having sex with ya
(Shit!) You're infected, babeh babeh
Oh I really regret having sex with ya babeh, babeh
You're infected - oooh that's nasty shit - nasty shit
You've got it bad
(Shit, you're infected)
Creep Season | (Mev Stuart)
Inspired by my commuting trips to and from the Sydney CBD. I saw some pretty wrong stuff over those years: A seedy dude waiting at the bottom of the stairs, looking up the skirts of schoolgirls as they came down, another one looking over women's shoulders down their tops from the seat behind them, and a few other choice intrusions; some involving mobile phone cameras.
Lead Vocal: Mev. I also do bass and rhythm guitars, percussion.
Drums: James Hauptmann.
Hammond Organ and Synths: Jerry
I wrote the hammond solo for Jerry as a starter idea, but he liked it, and decided he wanted to just play that. I transcribed it incorrectly for him, then kept telling him it wasn't quite right the way he was playing it. By the time he marked up the chart so he could avoid this, the valves in the CV122 were sufficiently warm for the sound we wanted.
The synth sounds Jerry created on this track still blow my mind.
Baritone sax: Ian Pieterse
The Skirts are: Mev, Brian Campeau and Donné Restom - including the high pitched squeal before the trombone outro.
Bone: Mikey Raper plays the trombone solo. "Be creepy Mikey". The solo ends in a Betty Bath Fart.
Cameo: Sorcha Albuquerque's walk, Nick Perry & Louise Nutting
Lyrics
Now that the summer is near
All those short skirts are comin' out now
Out on the street - oh I hope we can meet
But I can play it cooler - I could stay maybe a block away
With some soft soled shoes on my feeheet
Creep Season, creep season and the stage is mine
Creep Season, yeaheh, you can feel my shadow on your beehind
I'm at the foot of the stair
Just waiting for lovely little girls to deescend
All the way down - the best spot in town!
Now in the seat behind in the train
I got over the shoulder action - comin' my way
It's the start of my day!
Creep Season, creep season has become my time
Creep Season, yeaheh, you can feel the pressure of a well trained eye
Creep Season, creep season and your awn my mind
Creep Season, yeaheh, you can feel my breath upon your spine
(Eww yuk nah-nah, ewww yuk nah-nah, ewww yuk nah-nah, ewwwwwww)
When I was just 15 yurs old, I knew I'd never get any
So I bought myself a big telescope, to try and get a look at it
Now I am such a sad and lonely man, I swear that I been misunderstood.
Now that my season is here
I peer into my binoculars - you're in my sights
The front of your tights!
I get a little closer
You turn and throw a glance - I feel that...
Well I could have a chance!
Creep Season, creep season in the dark is fine
Creep Season, yeaheh, you can smell me sweating as you hurry by [sic]
Creep Season, creep season I can hear your thighs
Creep Season, yeaheh, you can nearly feel me on your inside
Two Face Betty | (Mev Stuart)
The story of a woman in a man's world. Betty, a high class hooker in a busy city, drops a night's work to go and take care of business. You go kick you some pimp ass, Betty.
Audrey Gbaguidi's French language inclusions in the outro are worth translating.
Lead Vocals: Mev, Donné Restom
Backing Vocals: Audrey Gbaguidi, Louise Nutting, Mev, Jerry [vocoder]
Drums: James Hauptmann
Bass Guitar: Bars 1 to 100 - Mev, bars 101 to 118 - Mick Stuart
Rhythm Guitars: Mev
Lead Guitars: Dave Sattout [intro & motifs], Mev ["Betty's fight" solo], Mick Stuart [outro]
Clavinet, Keys and synth: Jerry
Synth: Luke Dubber [taxi driver stabbings]
Horns: Loretta Palmeiro - tenor sax, Mikey Raper - trombone, Simon Ferenci - trumpet, Ian Pieterse - baritone sax.
Violins: Natalya Bing, Bronwyn Cumbo, Daniel Weltlinger
Cello: Sorcha Albuquerque.
Percussion: Matt Ward - congas, Ian Watson - bongos, Mev - hand percussion.
Lyrics
Two Face Betty in the tub gettin ready for a date with the unsuspecting who knows who
As she scrubs away the night before; the man before the next man - someone just like you
Tonight, Betty's got a special plan
Tonight, night will be the night that Betty kills a man
Betty put your face on, before you bloody up your hands
Betty steps into the street, heads are turnin as they always do
All the taxi drivers flash their lights, they bump and grind
Trying to get closer to
Tonight, Betty doesn't want a ride
Tonight, All that Betty wants to do is homicide
Betty put your face on, before you bloody up your hands
(Betty put your face on)
[WOMANKIND]:
It's not a man's world - not tonight (not a man's world)
Now is Betty's chance to make things right
She's got the gun, she'll take a life
And this is Betty's fight
Downtown lyin in the street is the body of a man with a bullet in his lyin face
As she walks away she smiles to herself, there ain't no lawman giving chase
They all look the other way
Tonight, nobody's got nothin to say
Betty put your face on, before you bloody up your hands
Betty got a piece of justice, can you really blame a girl in the end?
Everybody knew he had it coming
Betty's got a clear conscience, can you really say that Betty has sinned?
Even Jesus knew he had it coming
Betty put your face on...
Sum O Dat | (Mev Stuart/Dom Santangelo)
Inspired by a local neo-soul singer, whose chill demeanour and hip-as-funk vibe settled over the room at The Mac (Macquarie Hotel, Sydney), and all the lady's panties got a little moist.
Dom Santangelo and I laughed our way through the writing of the lyrics together, which lean into the guy a fair bit, probably beyond the pale.
Mick Stuart plays a lead guitar and vocal solo - Benson style, with only two fingers. *Note his picture above - the pinky's essentially terrified of the fretboard, and the middle finger's just hanging there ready for me to say, "Nup. Go again mann."
Lead Vocals: Mev
Backing Vocals: Donné Restom, Charlottle Craib, Monica Brooks, Brian Campeau, Adam Moses, Mev
Cameo Vocal: Dom Santangelo, Mick Stuart [Bensonesque]
Drums: James Hauptmann
Bass Guitar: Mev
Rhythm Guitars: Mev
Lead Guitars: Mick Stuart [bridge solo], Mev
Rhodes & Synth: Jerry
Alto Sax: Matt Handel
Violins: Natalya Bing, Bronwyn Cumbo
Percussion: Mev
Lyrics
I meet a lot o' girls, doin what I do
Give me fifteen minutes babeh, and I'll be so right for you
I'm relaxed and ready, for whateva
Just kickin back, chillin wit my crew
Baby I don't care if you tell your friends about me being - so cool
and it's true - High Ham
But I would advise you to write it somewhere special baby
Maybe in your diary, maybe in the sky high;
Helluva lovely guy (for a man) gots to get you sum o dat
(oooh; I wanna write it in the sky)
Such a helluva lovely guy (for a man) gots to get you sum o dat
One helluva lovely guy (for a man) gots to get you sum o dat
(come on gimme sum o dat)
Now if for any reason (may be your fault, maybe mine)
That we couldn't be together til the end of time
All we really need is one night to let our love shine
I'll make you feel so fine
Baby I don't care if you tell your friends I'm too hot for you
So much; I am so much (hot)
But I would suggest that you turn your head away or see me
Already in deeper conversation than we ever could have had...
Helluva lovely guy gots to get you sum o dat
Such a helluva lovely guy (for a man) gots to get you sum o dat
One helluva lovely guy (for a man)
Brother's Role
A young man attempts to save his little sister from being fingered by her older boyfriend.
A meandering tenor sax solo by Gregg Telian represents the searching digits of the teenager, who is hobbled by an unhealthy melange of blue-ball, peer-enforced Nike hip hop and a financed Nissan Skyline.
Lead Vocals: Samuel P Bennett
Backing Vocals: Brian Campeau, Mev
Drums: Jamie Cameron
Bass Guitar: Mev
Rhythm Guitars: Mev
Lead Guitar: Mick Stuart
Piano & Synth: Jerry
Baritone & Alto Sax: Ian Pieterse
Tenor Sax: Gregg Telian
Trumpet: Simon Ferenci
Percussion: Mev
Diagetic car stereo track by Nick Perry
Lyrics
That new boy that you brought home
I got a real bad feeling, yes I
Seen his face I know his type
He could be dealin, or maybe could be on ice
You don wana hanga rounda loser like that
You can do better and you’ve got time
Find a better one.
Don't go out little sis'er
He's gona put his dirty hand upon your thigh
Stay at home little sis'er
I bet he's gona try to finger you tonight.
Look at that stupid car, stupid shoes
A give-away of what he wants from you I
Know you think he’s really cool
I tell you baby, he seems to be a kind of a fool
You don wana folla rounda fucka like this
You can aim higher; over his head
N he’s got a slick sticky stiffy fingertip
Don't go out little sis'er
He's gona lie to you and try to get you high
Stay at home little sis'er
I bet he's gona wona finger you tonight.
He puts his arm around your neck
I do believe he feels-that you-be
Long to him; he’s sucked you in!
Why can’t you see – the guy is just a horrible turd
Look at you a-hangin on his ev-er-y word
Sick to my stomach sick to my soul
And now I must perform… a brother’s role!
Don't go out little sis'er
He only wana get inside your summer frock
Don't look now little sis'er
I'm gona take my gun and shoot him in the cock
Don't go out little sis'er
He's gona fiddle with the apple of my eye
Stay at home little sis'er
I bet he's gona try to finger you tonight.
Only the Foolish | (Music: Mev Stuart / Jerry Craib, Lyrics: Mev Stuart)
A brutal little song about a "player", whose old flame comes back to town. She tries to avoid him but he seeks her out, only to play her all over again.
The original music in the verses was written as a Jackson Five type feel, but when Jerry heard it, he said, "No. I'll show you how this should be."
He created the aggressive and powerful rhythm that sets up the bridge sections to hit with a glib, triumphant slap in the face.
Lead Vocals: Mev
Backing Vocals: Mev
Drums: James Hauptmann
Bass Guitar: Mev
Rhythm Guitars: Mev
Lead Guitar: Mick Stuart
Piano & Synth: Jerry
Trombone: Mikey Raper
Alto Sax: Mick Stuart
Trumpet: Ellen Kirkwood
Percussion: Mev
Lyrics
Someone told me you were back in town
You were happeh and you didn't want me sniffin' around
You could always tell I would let you down
I was never one to argue
Not a problem - it's all good
You know that I was never gona do what I should
I was more intent on gettin' what I could
I could never be relied on (Yeah!)
You don't get it: I don't want any ties
Gimme the space to cheat and lie
Just don't do it, gimme an easy ride
Only the foolish try
Well you are nobody's fool
Everybody in the hood saw you playin it cool
They don't see the show behind the door
How you came and stood next to me
But already things have changed
Somethin in your head went horribly strange
Suddenly it's all back how it was,
But I've got other ideas for you (Yeah babep!)
Just go with it, I'm an impulsive guy
Gimme a taste of every pie
You can't win it, baby now dry your eyes
Only the foolish cry
I, I don't have the time, I don't want to deal with love
I don't have to try, I don't like the trouble
I don't understand your love
I don't want to stay and I find it easy, easy to ignore your pain
What is there to say, when I find it easy, easy to deflect the blame
I, I don't have the time, I don't want to deal with love
I don't have to try, I don't like the trouble
I don't understand your love
I don't want to stay and I find it easy, easy to ignore your pain
What is there to say, when I find it easy, easy to forget your name.
Better
A real mate convinces his buddy to forget about putting in all that tiresome spadework with chicks, and just try his way - drink spiking!
Jerry's marimba lines signify plops of tainted ice dropping heavily into highball glasses.
Mick's guitar solo spells the unlucky victim's decline into wonky.
Dave Sattout's angry gaol time guitar solo* is played against a drum loop from earlier in the song, illustrating the groundhog cellblock rantings of the detained.
* Dave was directed to render the entire solo in a prison crouch.
Lead Vocals: Mev
Backing Vocals: Brian Campeau, Louise Nutting, Mev
Drums: Mick Stuart
Percussion: Mev
Bass Guitar: Mev
Keys: Jerry
Rhythm Guitars: Mev
Lead Guitar: Mev, Mick Stuart, Dave Sattout
Lyrics
Well it was at dinner, and you said you wanted a lady friend
She's out there for you man, seek and you will find
I know you have your way - why don't you try mine? (try mine, oh my!)
Coz you know my way is better...
Been a hell of a long time! Your balls must be like two oranges
You've got to get out there, find something you like!
I'll take you out on the town, find a drink to spike (try mine, oh my! Hey!)
Coz you know my way is
Better, my way, you know, better, my way
Well you're not a bad guy you just fell in with bad company
Don't feel so guilty man; that chick's tears will dry
That pub was awesome, we'll go back there tonight - give it another try! (oh my! Hey!)
Coz you know my way is
Better, my way, you know, better, my way
How could I have known, man? They got you on the CCTV
Three years is not that long you will see how the time flies (flies by)
I'll come to visit man - tell you how my way is
Better, my way, you know, better, my way
In His Eyes | (Mev Stuart)
Sibling rivalry and the effect it can have on a person in later life inspired this song.
Mike, a natural born bully is doing alright in life, at the expense of brother Bryce, who has come up hard and become a prick of a different kind.
Mick's on and off drum pattern gives us insight into the ambivalence of the parents, who can't reconcile their unconditional love for Bryce with the fact of his constantly having his hand in their jewellery case.
Lead Vocals: Mev
Backing Vocals: Brian Campeau, Louise Nutting, Ellen Kirkwood
Drums: Mick Stuart
Percussion: Mev
Bass Guitar: Bars 1 to 96: Mev, Bars 97 to 110: Mick Stuart
Synth: Mev
Rhythm Guitars: Mev
Lead Guitar: Mev
Baritone sax: Ian Pieterse
Tenor Sax: Matt Handel, Loretta Palmeiro
Trombone: Mikey Raper
Trumpet: Simon Ferenci
Lyrics
Bryce - he's a liar. He's always got his pants on fire
When he tells the truth, there's no-one there
It's not good - for Bryce
Mike - well he's a "do allright". He's always first to step in the limelight
But he likes to bully, and push poor Bryce around
It's not good - for Bryce
Poor old Bryce, wants to blame his mama, love to blame his pa
(He never got his fair share of love)
Mike held his head under in the bath
(And Bryce can taste that soap til this day)
Still has those tears in his eyes.
Hide all your diamonds 'cause Bryce is comin round in the morning
You can't fly the coup, you've got to guard the ruby
Make it safe from Bryce (Where do you keep it - in your bottom drawer?)
(Poor old Bryce)
Poor old Bryce, Bryce has itchy, itchy little fingers
(He never had his fair share of tooouys)
Mike never let him play with his friends
(Mike kept Bryce right away from those booouys)
Ooh the cruelty of childhood.
Bryce would love to blame his mama, to blame his pa
(He never got his fair share of love)
Mike held his head under in the bath
(And Bryce can taste that soap til this day)
And he still has those tears in his eyes.
Yeahh in his eyes :(
Blue, Pink & White | (Mev Stuart)
An obsessive compulsive is thrown into a panic when he returns home from work to find a peg missing from his private basket.
Inspired by real events at Audley Manor. A comical look into the mind of a zealous pragmatist with sociopathic undertones.
The protagonist battles himself for the choice between a plastic world and a human one.
Lead Vocals: Mev
Backing Vocals: Brian Campeau, Louise Nutting, Ellen Kirkwood, Mev
Drums: James Hauptmann
Percussion: Mev
Bass Guitar: Mev
Rhodes: Jerry
Rhythm Guitars: Mev
Lead Guitar: Mev, Dave Sattout [outro]
Tenor Sax: Matt Handel
Cameo: Chris Wilcox
Lyrics
When I was little, mama made me hang out the clothes
Gotta put the pegs away as soon as the clothes are dry
You can have your own pegs - leave them on the line
But don't you mess with mine!
Livin in the city, gotta fight the urge to tumble dry
Hope it don't rain tomorrow. Got a feelin it's gona be fine
You can get your own pegs - they don't cost much to buy
And don't you mess with mine! (oh, ah!)
This is the aisle. Pegs are three dollars ninety-five.
You should get a pack of forty-eight, alright?
I think it was a Friday - I got home and felt something wrong
So I did a peg count; help me god! I found one peg gone!
Why just one peg? No reason, no rhyme - you're messin with my mind (ooohh yeah)
Am I to blame? Maybe I could keep 'em outta sight
I don't wana have to have a fight - alright?
Please understand; I still consider you a friend
IF you put my peg right back again.
Leave the pegs, alone. Now, leave the pegs.
Leave the pegs, alone. Now, leave the pegs.
Leave the pegs, alone. Now, leave the pegs.
Leave the pegs, you don't know what you're doing.
I think I got it straight: I've got to let them live their own lie
I've got my plastic world - it comes in blue, pink and white
I don't need a doctor! I tell you I'm fine!
Just don't you mess with mine (oh, people now)
Don't you mess with..(oh! ah!) MINE!!
Leave the pegs, alone. Now, leave the pegs.
Leave the pegs, alone. Now, leave the pegs.
Leave the pegs, alone. Now, leave the pegs.
Leave the pegs, you don't know what you're doing.
U.V. light degrades this plastic!!!
Why She Wana? | (Mev Stuart)
A very vanilla type of guy picks up a girl in a bar, and takes her home. Upon commencement of festivities, he discovers, to his horror, that she has a fetish - she wants to piddle on him.
The original version of the song lay dormant for 3 years with only the chorus lyric "If I could be a good guy" recorded.
It was only in 2015 that I realised what so many of the keys and guitar parts reminded me of. Just fucking piddle.
Bass, synth and guitars were recorded on 1/2" 8 track tape.
Lead Vocals: Samuel P Bennett
Backing Vocals: Samuel P Bennett, Brian Campeau, Ellen Kirkwood, Mev
Drums: Jamie Cameron
Percussion: Mev
Bass Guitar: Mev
Keys and Synth: Jerry
Synth: Luke Dubber
Rhythm Guitars: Mev
Baritone Sax: Ian Pieterse
Tenor Sax: Loretta Palmeiro, Dave Weir
Alto Sax: Ross Harrington
Lyrics
It was a Hot Night, down in a basement bar
I've got game, and she's a star
But later on it went too far: She tried to piddle on me!
I like to think I'm an open minded guy
But there's a lot I haven't tried
I think I'm gona draw the line - she tried to piddle on me!
Why she try to piddle on me?!
Well I know, I shouldn't be judging her
How the hell do I know what she's been threu
Really I would much prefer she didn't piddle on me.
Why she wana piddle on me?!
Well it cannot be right - roooooooo
And why cannot she use the loo-ooh-ooh-oh-whoa-wee-oh-owww
okay, I'm taking a giant leap!
I'm gona try and get a little sleep
I'd better hope to god she doesn't piddle on me!
Whyshewana, whyshewanerrrr, whyshewana piddle on meh??!
Closer (if you look) | (Mev Stuart)
Inspired by my observations of a Bourke Street (Darlinghurst) working girl, who managed to get sober and change her life, only to slip back into her old ways a few years later.
The outro shows the softening of my heart when I saw past the madness into the person within - as beautiful, damaged, hopeful and forlorn as when she was "in recovery".
Lead Vocals: Mev
Backing Vocals: Brian Campeau, Louise Nutting, Mev
Drums: Jamie Cameron
Percussion: Mev
Bass Guitar: Mev
Hammond and Synth: Jerry
Rhythm Guitars: Mev
Lead Guitar: Mev
Alto Sax: Ross Harrington
Lyrics
From the top of the street she's crying all the way back home
From her head to her toes she's aching - hopin that nobody knows
The burden, the burden of her heavy secret
She wipes her eyes. Wouldn't a drink be nice?! Plenty of ice
She was hot - when she could be bothered with the way she dressed
In the cold of another winter she could perform under stress
She's waiting for a second wind
But nobody dreamed she'd give up sobriety
Where's the relief? Just look at the way she's been speakin
Now it starts, and it's never ending - she is lost to herself
And the new is replaced with the old - she is taking herself to hell
What a time to give up on herself, what a time to rebel
She's down at the Wishing Well, drinking it dry - here's mud in your eye! Here's mud in your eye.
Da da dee-up dai aye aye aye
Ahh yeeee ah!
From the top of the street she's singing, but she won't go home
She's a drunk, she's a loser - still thinks that nobody knows
She claws her face but she can't scratch her demons
Now is the time. Wouldn't a drink be nice?! Plenty of ice...
If you look closer, you can see the other side
If you look closer, you can see the other side
If you look closer, you can see the other side
Closer...
Holdin' Out For True Love | (Mev Stuart)
Deals with anal sexual intercourse.
Originally the song was sung with a "gay accent", but ultimately it was lacking the subtlety we were going for.
The heterosexual bent was then entirely legitimised by female participation in the form of "back-up" vocals.
Common mistake by people re-singing the song: "gona come in the back door baby.."
Fuck off: Don't be so friggin tasteless.
Lead Vocals: Samuel P Bennett
Backing Vocals: Donné Restom, Mev, Samuel P Bennett
Drums: Mick Stuart
Percussion: Mev
Bass Guitar: Mev
Synth: Luke Dubber, Lloyd Barrett
Rhythm Guitars: Mev
Baritone Sax: Ian Pieterse
Tenor Sax: Loretta Palmeiro
Trombone: Mikey Raper
Trumpet: Simon Ferenci
Lyrics
Baby there’s something.. I think you got to know
Now you have known me for days.. it’s time for tell and show
They say that life’s too short for sitting on the fence
I won’t hurt you - I won’t hurt you
Hey girl, just you relax I’ve done this all before
Take a chill pill - try to stay still
I’m gonna come in the back way baby (Oh Yeah?)
I wanna come in the back way dahlin (Shit yeah)
Can I come in the back way honeh (OOOh yeah)
Now I know that you holdin out for true love.. girl you’ll never find it
Just do this thing for me baby right now.. you’re dressed for the occasion
Hold on to something but don’t worry it’s nothing
It won’t kill you; far from kill you
Give me that jelly I will make sure it’s ready
Think of green trees – stay on your knees
I’m gonna come in the back way baby (Ooh Yeah)
I wanna come in the back --- dahlin (Shit yeah!)
Can I come in the back way honeh (OOOh yeah!)
Oddments & Oddities
Back in the days of Cubase SX, when we recorded 'Closer' You used to be able to choose black for a track colour.
When Jerry discovered this, he insisted that all his tracks be black, which hid the waveforms from view. "Nope. NOBODY is to see my waveforms."
Jerry on "The Typical Suit & Tie Session"
"It's a Sunday afternoon. I've set up my keyboard, had a cup of Matt's fresh brewed coffee, smoked a cigarette, we've talked through the music.. I'm ready.
I put the headphones on, Matt cues the track and is about to hit record.
Then it begins. Not the recording.. the saliva, heavy breathing and mouth sounds from Matt coming down the monitor send straight into my ears. It's another day in the Suit&Tie hit factory.
Matt Stuart is no doubt a creative juggernaut. More importantly however Matt is a consistent and persistent anti-comfort provider.
In the studio, as in all facets of his life: A smile and high 5 for a job well done from Matt is more often than not accompanied by a derisory quip or an awfully articulated insinuation.
Definitely all of your words will be twisted. That's why I insist on blacking out my tracks.. All of it wonderful and necessary to enhance the season of the creep."
Jerry Craib
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