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Good Old Mountain Dew

by Alpes à lâches

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1.
Rocky Island 01:20
Goin' to rocky island goin' to rocky hill goin' to rocky island, to get my bottle filled. See the train a comin' comin' down the track carrying away my true love, never gonna bring her back. It's oh goodbye my mother, oh goodbye, I say, oh goodbye my mother, I’m goin’ away. Goin' to rocky island goin' to rocky shore Goin' to rocky island, oh, honey oh.
2.
Hook and line to catch a shad, First thing I caught was my old dad. Pole broke and I got mad, Right to the bottom went my old dad! Shout a nickle, shout a dime, Shout little Lulu any old time. Shout little Lulu, shout your best, Your old grandmother's in a hornest's nest! (spoken:) Yes sir! Shout, shout, shout, shout! What in hell are you shoutin' about?
3.
Chickens a-crowin’ on Sourwood Mountain, Hey de-um-dum diddle um day. So many pretty girls I just can’t count ‘em, Hey de-um-dum diddle-um day. I like living on sourwood mountain Hey, ho, diddle-um day. My true love’s a sun-burnt daisy Hey de-um-dum diddle um day. If I don’t get her I’ll go crazy. Hey de-um-dum diddle um day. I like living on sourwood mountain Hey, ho, diddle-um day. Big dog bark and little one bite you, Hey, ho, diddle-um day. Big girl court and little one spite you. Hey, ho, diddle-um day. Big dog bark and little one bite you, Big girl court and little one spite you. I like living on sourwood mountain Hey, ho, diddle-um day. Duck’s in the mill pond geese in the clover Hey de-um-dum diddle um day. Tell them pretty gals I’m comin’ over. Hey de-um-dum diddle um day. I like living on sourwood mountain Hey, ho, diddle-um day. Sally get them hoe-cakes makin’ Hey de-um-dum diddle um day. Sold my fiddle to buy some bacon. Hey de-um-dum diddle um day. I like living on sourwood mountain Hey, ho, diddle-um day. Chickens a-crowin’ on Sourwood Mountain, Hey de-um-dum diddle um day. So many pretty girls I just can’t count ‘em, Hey de-um-dum diddle-um day. I like living on sourwood mountain Hey, ho, diddle-um day.
4.
Shady Grove 03:11
You can have my watch and chain, You can have my ring, If I don’t get Shady Grove Don’t need no earthly thing. Shady Grove my little miss, Shady Grove my love, Shady Grove my little miss, I’ll see you up above. Think of her in the summertime, Think of her in the fall, If I can’t have Shady Grove, I’ll have no one at all. Chorus Cheeks as red as the blooming rose, Eyes of the deepest brown, She’s the darlin’ of my heart, Don’t wait till the judgement day. Chorus. Wish I Had a banjo string Made of golden twine, And every time I’d pick on it, I’d wish that gal were mine.
5.
Coupe l’ail en fines lamelles et incise, Le rôti avec un bon couteau, Glisses y ensuite ces p’tits bouts d’ail Enduis de beurre ton rôti tout beau Oh beurre bien la poêle du cuistot Mets y à dorer les oignons, Prends dans le frigo, y’a un rôti On va s’faire un bon gueuleton. Dans la poêle à feu vif fait rev’nir Les oignons et l’sucre, met les herbes. Fait griller rapidement le rôti Sur chaque face et c’est superbe. Mets les oignons caramélisés Sur le rôti avant d’enfourner, A mi-cuisson pense bien à déglacer, avec du lait et il faut poivrer !
6.
Mountain Dew 02:56
Down the road here from me there’s an old hollow tree Where you lay down a dollar or two. You go round the bend and you come back again, There’s a jug full of that good old mountain dew. Well, they call it that old mountain dew And them that refuse it are few. I’ll hush up my mug if you fill up my jug With that good old mountain dew. My uncle Nort, he’s sawed-off and short, He measures ‘bout four foot two, But he thinks he’s a giant when you give him a pint Of that good old mountain dew. The preacher rode by with his head heisted high, Said his wife had come down with the flu. He thought that I ort to give him a quart Of that good old mountain dew. My brother Bill’s got still on the hill Where he runs off a gallon or two. The buzzards in the sky get so drunk they can’t fly, From smelling that good old mountain dew.
7.
Baby-O 02:57
The baby this and the baby that The baby killed my old tomcat What’re you gonna do with the baby ? What’re you gonna do with the baby-O ? Wrap him up in the table cloth We’ll put him up in the stable loft Wrap him up in calico We’ll smack his bottom and let him go The baby laughed, the baby cried I stuck my finger in the baby’s eye
8.
Ruben Train 02:23
You ought to been uptown, when old Ruben’s train come down You could hear the whistle blow a hundred miles Old Ruben had a train, run from England to Spain But he couldn’t get no letter from his home If you don’t believe I’m gone, watch this train that I crawl on Lord I’m nine hundred miles away from home I’m nine hundred miles away from my wife and my child Lord I wish I was nine hundred more If this train runs right, we’ll get home about daylight Lord I’m nine hundred miles away from home Old Ruben went to town and the police knocked him down You could hear that boy holler a hundred miles Old Ruben got killed on that C and O line And his poor body has never been found They found his head in the driver’s wheel About a mile and a half from town
9.
Pretty Polly 02:50
Pretty Polly, pretty Polly, comme go along with me (2x) Before we get married some pleasure you’ll see She climbed up behind him and away they did go (2x) Over hills and mountains and the valley so low Oh they went up a little farther and what did they spy (2x) A new-dug grave and a space lying by Oh Willie, oh Willie, I’m afraid of your way (2x) I’m afraid that you’ll lead my poor body astray Oh Polly, oh Polly, your gess is about right (2x) I dug on your grave the biggest part of last night He stabbed her to the hart and her life blood did flow (2x) And into the grave pretty Polly did go He threw some dirt over her and turned to go home (2x) While the wild birds and the turtledoves were left to mourn
10.
Oh it’s yonder stands little Maggie, got a dram glass in her hand. She’s a-drinking to drown her troubles, and courting another man. Oh it’s how can I ever stand it, to see them two blue eyes. Shining like some diamonds, pretty diamonds in the sky. Come and go with me to the depot, got a suitcase in my hand. Lord, I’m going away and live you, you can hunt you another man. Oh the last time I saw little Maggie, she was standing on the bank of the sea. Had the whiskey bottle all stacked around her and a banjo upon her knee.
11.
Cluck Old hen, cluck I said Cluck Old hen, your widdies all dead. My old hen’s a good old hen She lays eggs for the railroad men Somtimes one, sometimes two Sometimes enough for the whole dang crew. I had an old hen, she had a wooden leg The best dang hen that ever laid an egg She laid more eggs than the hens around the barn Another little drink wouldn’t do me no harm.
12.
Chilly Winds 01:41
I’m going where the chilly winds don’t blow, oh Lord I’m going where the climate suits my clothes.
13.
Old Joe Clark the preacher's son Preached all over the plain The only text he ever used Was high low jack and the game I went down to old Joe's house Never been there before He slept on the feather bed And I slept on the floor chorus: Round and round, old Joe Clark Round and round, I say Round and round, old Joe Clark I ain’t got long to stay Fare thee well, old Joe Clark Fare thee well, I say He'd follow me ten thousand miles To hear my fiddle play Old Joe Clark he had a dog As blind as he could be Chased a redbug 'round a stump And a coon up a hollow tree Old Joe had a yellow cat She would not sing or pray She stuck her head in a buttermilk jar And washed her sins away (chorus) I went down to old Joe’s house Old Joe wasn’t at home I ate up all of old Joe’s meat And left old Joe the bone I used to live on mountaintop But now I live in town I'm boarding at the big hotel Courting Betsy Brown (chorus)
14.
Eighteen, nineteen, twenty years ago Daddy had a man called Cotton-Eyed Joe Where’d you come from, where’d you go ? Where’d you come from, Cotton-Eyed Joe ? He made him a fiddle and he made him a bow And he made a little tune called Cotton-Eyed Joe Cornstalk fiddle and a shoestring bow And he played that tune called Cotton-Eyed Joe You can hang up your fiddle and hang up your bow Old Joe’s gone where the good folks go
15.
Oh I went down to Danville Got struck on a Danville girl, You bet your life she’s out of sight She wears those Danville curls. She wears her hair on the back of her head Like all hight-toned people do. The very first train that leaves this town I’m goin’ to bid that girl adieu. I don’t see why I love that girl For she never cared for me, But still my mind is on that girl Wherever she may be. Look up look down this lonesome road Hang down your head and cry. The very best friends have to part sometime Then why not you and I ? It’s forty miles through the rock It’s sixty through the sand. Oh I relate to you the life Of many a poor married man.
16.
De la promenade des anglais Jusqu’aux pavés grenoblois En passant par la canne à bière, Pour finir quelqu’ part en Auvergne Tu me scies, égoïne, Quand tu partais à chaille, En chauffeur de ce camion bleu. C’est casse gueule, c’est casse gueule d’écrire ainsi, Sur un type qu’on appréciait tant. J’ai pas les mots, j’ai pas l’entrain Pour dire ce que je ressens. A notr’ Clive, A notr’ Clive Qui souvent partais à Chaille En chauffeur de ce camion bleu C’est une courte chanson, pour tout ce temps, Ou tu nous manquera tant !

about

Le voici, le premier album d'Alpes à Lâches, avec pas moins de 16 classiques de Old Time (musique traditionnelle des Appalaches).
Il ne manque finalement que du fiddle pour sonner vraiment authentique.
Toutefois, un véritable accent des Alpes françaises a été utilisé tout au long de ce disque.
Merci à Mr Martin d'avoir prêté sa voix et sa guitare sur "A Notr' Clive" (mrmm.bandcamp.com/releases)

Si vous voulez télécharger ce disque, cliquez sur "acheter l'album numérique", le prix demandé commence à la somme astronomique de zéro euros !

credits

released July 11, 2020

Tous titres Trad arrangés par Alpes à Lâches.
Textes de "Beurre Bien la Poêle du Cuistot" et "A Notr' Clive" : Alpes à Lâches

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Alpes à lâches Villard De Lans, France

Il y a fort longtemps un duo nommé Alpes à Lâches devint un mono à la suite du départ du guitariste.
Après quelques concert au coin du feu (enfin, encore eut-il fallu qu'il y ait un feu, et un coin par la même occasion) sous le nom de Banjo Raf ou de Old Djo Raph,
j'ai décidé de reprendre le nom de Alpes à Lâches pour ces trad des Appalaches interprétés avec un accent des Alpes.
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