My young ears are certainly getting a lesson this week from the dirty elders!
Planting the Seed: Dirty Blues, the early years.
Early Blues in general is a lyrically limited form– broads, booze and sex have a virtual stranglehold on the blues singers’ mind, give or take a cameo appearance by the devil himself, (i.e.– the works of Robert Johnson or Peetie Wheatstraw) and filthy blues records make up a large portion of the early recorded body of work.
Since that immortal day when Blind Lemon Jefferson beheld his pecker and decided it had the same leathery quality as a black snake, getting the biggest hit record of his career out of it– “Black Snake Moan” (which he recorded several times), sex on blues discs sold.
Mmm, mmm, black snake crawlin’ in my room
Mmm, mmm, black snake crawlin’ in my room
Some pretty mama better come and get this black snake soon
The biggest blues hit of the late 20’s was a rockin double entendre entitled “It’s Tight Like That,” written by Tampa Red and Georgia Tom (a.k.a. Thomas A. Dorsey who a few years later would zip up his pants for God and invent modern gospel music). The great Bo Carter for one, a former member of the Mississippi Sheiks made an entire career out of single entendre numbers like “Banana in Your Fruitbasket,” “Mashin That Thing,” “Pussycat Blues,” etc. Even the old tortured soul Robert Johnson could take the time out from playing hide’n’seek with Satan to invite his honey to “squeeze my lemon baby– ’til the juice runs down my leg” in “Traveling Riverside Blues.”
You can squeeze my lemon till
Juice run down my leg.
You can squeeze my lemon till
Juice run down my leg.
That’s what I’m talking about!
But I’ll be going back to Friar’s Point, mama,
Rocking to my head.
The only time censorship was employed was usually on the label of the record, for example, on the old standard “Dirty Mother Fucker,” recorded by Roosevelt Sykes (known as The Honey Dripper), Red Nelson and many others, the label would read “Dirty Mother Fucha” or “Dirty Mother For You,” etc. Yes, the country blues was a ripe field for a man with an erection.
Squeeze me, baby
Don’t let me fall
I got to put this mule
To jumpin’ in yo’ stall
He gon’ be a kickin’ muther *fer you
Don’t ya know?
He gon’ be a kickin’ muther fer you
Don’t ya know?
Gon’ be a jumpin’ muther fer you
An I wouldn’t tell a-you no lie
Squeeze me tight, darlin’
An don’t let me fall
You know I been lovin’ you
Ever since way last fall
Lovin’ mother fer you
Don’t you know?
Lovin’ mother fer you
Don’t you know?
I’m a lovin’ muther for you
An I wouldn’t tell a-you no lie
Mercy!
Now, there sits a man
Look like he’s sour on lemons
He got a mouth like a possum
Look like he be needin’ persimmon
Persimmon eatin’ muther fer you
Don’t you know?
He’s a persimmon eatin’ muther fer you
Don’t you know?
He’s a persimmon eatin’ muther fer you
An I wouldn’t tell you no lie
Mercy!
‘Let her ride a while’
‘Mercy’
‘Oh yeah’
‘Whoa, yeah’
Now, there’s a fine little sexatary
And they call her Terry
All’s she need now, is a big Dick-tionary
She’d be a readin’ muther fer you
Don’t you know?
A spellin’ muther fer you
Don’t you know?
She’s an educated muther fer you
And I wouldn’t tell a-you no lie
Mercy!
Now, mama got a hotdog
And it ain’t cold
It’s just right
To fit yo’ roll
It’s a fittin’ muther for you
Don’t you know?
It’s gonna be a tight muther fer you
Don’t you know?
And it’s about a foot long muther fer you
Wouldn’t tell you no lie, my, my!
Don’t Mash My Digger
Baby if you don’t like my peaches, baby please don’t-cha touch my tree
Baby and if you don’t love my peaches, baby please don’t touch my tree
And if you don’t want me to have your potatoes, don’t mash my digger1 down so deep
Say’s when I use my digger, I use it in different ways,
I dig potatoes for these women, both night and day
Baby if you don’t like my peaches, baby please don’t-cha touch my tree
Baby and if you don’t love my peaches, baby please don’t touch my tree
And if you don’t want me to have your potatoes, don’t mash my digger down so deep
Says when I get to use my digger, I use it like I should,
the women all cryin’ your old digger, ya know, it digs and feels so good
Baby if you don’t like my peaches, baby please don’t-cha touch my tree
Baby and if you don’t love my peaches, baby please don’t touch my tree
And if you don’t want me to have your potatoes, don’t mash my digger down so deep
Says when I get to use my digger, I use to the side and up and down,
I can dig your potatoes better than any man in this town
Baby if you don’t like my peaches, baby please don’t-cha touch my tree
Baby and if you don’t love my peaches, baby please don’t touch my tree
And if you don’t want me to have your potatoes, don’t mash my digger down so deep
Sometimes it takes three inches to dig for ‘tatoes, sometimes it takes four,
when I find ’em deep, you know, I mash it down some more
Baby if you don’t like my peaches, baby please don’t-cha touch my tree
Baby and if you don’t love my peaches, baby please don’t touch my tree
And if you don’t want me to have your potatoes, don’t mash my digger down so deep