1. |
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A soft language barrier
The child of an immigrant
Before the Banh Mi trucks were cool
Lunch table embarrassment
That scene with the border guard
Last night on the continent
What was the view like knowing that you
Might never come back again
There are so many things
I should have said to you
Sometimes family trees cut cruel
What did you make of Tennessee
In 1988, all covered in snow
The winter my little brother was born
And we carried him up the hill to our home
I wish I had taken French
A little more seriously
I remember singing to you
When you were dying in St. Denis
There are so many things
I could have asked you then
Sometimes songs don’t get a nice end
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2. |
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Can you give the world a twist
Just by doing the twist?
At the moment the bomb went off,
They were playing “Purple Haze”
I met Robert at his restaurant,
Septième arrondissement
The Doors still echo in the jungle.
He said, “Your mother brought back 45s from Paris in ’65
and we learned ʼem note for note.”
Some broken English Rolling Stones
Fenders, girls, and dope
America provides
Oh, Saigon teens…
Can you give the world a twist
Just by doing the twist?
Can you save the world with acid rock?
I didn’t know my mother’s maiden name
That time in Texas when we was detained
And I’ve been back to old Saigon
But how much of you is lost
When they change your name?
Oh, Saigon teens…
And it was half a world away
The band got back on stage
Four decades to the day
“Purple Haze”
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3. |
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The flyer read, “Musicians needed!”
So young Yone grabbed his silver mouthpiece
Tracked down a kid who brought a trumpet to Pomona
Let Yone have it on a free two-year lease
Joy Teraoka née Takeshita
Went to the tryout, she was only 16
With some girlfriends to cheer her on, their club was called the Radelles
Mom said, “If you keep up with school, Joy, you can sing.”
George Igawa, OG Nisei
He toured up the coast and even played Japan
Before the war, they ripped up the Florida Ballroom
Man, don’t sleep on those Sho-Tokyans
Under starlight they danced behind barbed wire
Under the mountain, it meant something to sing
Stuck between two countries in a fire
The best god damn band in Wyoming
Little Tets Bessho rep’d the Kardiacs gang
The clarinet kid, the “Nisei Artie Shaw,”
Dropped by rehearsal in a tar paper barrack
Once he joined up, sister, it was on
They practiced daily, gigged on the weekend
Stirring up those dusty mess halls
Teenage bodies unchained from their parents
Man, them old folks, they really lost it all
The only swing band left in Wyoming
That got ʼem out some nights until dawn
War bond drives in Powell, Mormons dancing in Lovell
A bunch of “Japs” playing jazz at the Thermopolis prom
Under machine guns they danced behind barbed wire
At below zero, it meant something to sing
Angelenos mixing up with farm kids in the choir
The best god damn band in Wyoming
George Igawa, he split for Chicago
With Kimiko in the fall of ’44
He left the band to Tets, Joy went with her family to DC.
As for Yone, he had to join the war
And that’s the story from old Heart Mountain
And the best band you never did see
Locked up in prison camps for no fuckin’ reason
But they still found a reason to sing
The best god damn band in Wyoming . . .
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4. |
Gimme Chills
03:29
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Give me rhyme for no reason
Give me the world for a start
Give me all the treason you might carry in your heart
Give me life fantastic
Get me over the hill
Until the day I go, gimme chills
Give me seas of blue waves
Tangled round my hands
Give me sand and soft shoes
Evenings with the band
Sing me songs so classic, like cherry cola thrills
Lips on glass, not plastic
I know you will
Give me trial without jury
Give me Imelda Marcos’s shoes
Give me another century to make it up to you
Hear of the Sangley rebellion?
Some say twenty thousand killed
16 and 03, gimme chills
Give me Dewey in Manila
Give me the Pearl of the Orient
Give me the USS Olympia, nine ships heaven sent
Skype me Christmas eve from Doha
Toast me New Year’s from Crown Hill
And if we never get back home, gimme chills
Give me Lopez de Legazpi
From Jalisco to Cebu
Make me your religion
I’ll watch over you
Dream of Spanish autumns
From New Granada to old Castile
Over all them miles, gimme chills
Give me rhyme for no reason
Give me your balikbayan box
Give me Coca-Cola, Chuck Taylors, and an Apple watch
Give me your Asian manhood
Give me Duterte’s sober will
Black flags in Marawi, gimme chills
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5. |
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Imagine taking a tanker ship
Then walking all of Mexico
I know some people who the blues won’t quit
Imagine no end to a road
They’re saying out in El Paso
The prisons filled up to the brim
Now they’re sticking them in cages
Just sweep it all beneath the bridge
And you might want to worry
And you might want to come down
And you might need to hurry
Judging from this town
Take a jump shot in Laredo
Feel some special kind of weird
Purgatory outlet mall implode
Cry some special kind of tears
Living in between the water
Just close your eyes and dream of flowers
So says a mother to a daughter
Wasting in line for 40 hours
And you might want to worry
And you might want to come down
And you might need to hurry
Judging from this town
En la frontera te das cuenta que la historia
tiende a repetirse:
Un niño es un niño,
Una jaula es una jaula,
Los sentimientos, Las angustias,
Todas son las mismas. Lo único que cambia es la época
Imagine no end to a road . . .
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6. |
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And I’d love to waste your day
If you’d love to waste mine, too…
So we met at the museum
As to hear the elder song
“Hole Hole Bushi”
and Miss Betsy sang along, along, along, along…
Ala Moana park
Falling sweetly to the night
And I sipped my inspiration from
The old plantation strike
Blues and waves hanging
A little sadness in your eyes
Blues and waves hanging
A little more to paradise
In the orange-tinted surf
I dreamt of Fred Makino
And his rebel letter press
Baller Hapa Issei bro
And I watched the lanterns light
A flicker sadness in your eyes
Okinawa and Hawaii
Kin of military might
Blues and waves hanging
A little sadness in your eyes
Blues and waves hanging
A little more to paradise
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7. |
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Last ship off the dock
Before the Japanese took Hong Kong
Henry came with Mom
Three weeks: so long, Canton
First, Weybosset Street
Then a little house, an hour south by feet
A hop, a skip, a jump from Roger Williams Park
Aren’t we all just some pilgrims in the dark?
Faith, that’s the bottom line (x3)
You are young, you will be fine
By the old Round Top
Five blocks from Luke’s restaurant
Lily and the Irish Chinese kid
Cross your heart and keep your secrets hid
Faith, that’s the bottom line (x3)
You are young, you will be fine
A congregation of all stripes
Lift your voice until it blends with mine
On the On Leong banquet day
Confirmation dress and two bouquets
Faith, that’s the bottom line (x3)
You are young, you will be fine (x2)
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8. |
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Say, have you ever been to eastern Colorado,
Where the Sand Creek meets the Arkansas River?
Do you know the tale of old One-Eye’s daughter,
or Cheyenne Mochi, shakin’ and shiverin’?
Hold me, lover, tell me lies
Ain’t no coming back from this one
Take a cruel meditation upon a slaughter
Underneath a white flag
Mr. Yellow Wolf, here meet Tomoki Ogata
Two ghosts caught in a jet lag
Hold me, lover, tell me lies
Ain’t no coming back from this one
M-A-T-S-U-D-A baby
There are some days, it might be best not to remember
The No-Nos had it right, kid
The cavalry hung scalps from a chandelier in Denver
Mutilate the peace chiefs
Name a town after Chivington
Hold me, lover, tell me lies
Hold me, lover, tell me lies
Seems like the world cracked overnight
There’s no coming back from this one
(repeat)
Open up your eyes, open up your eyes
Pen to paper, take a trip, my love
Let me know what you find
Open up your eyes, open up your eyes
For a minute and give yourself
To a place and a time
(repeat x2)
There is a grave in eastern Colorado
There is a date marked Christmas Day,
1944 and not even a name
Just “Matsuda Baby”
M-A-T-S-U-D-A baby
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9. |
Tell Hanoi I Love Her
02:57
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Twice southern with two civil wars
A fool to think that this place could ever be yours
The in between, that’s where we must explore
Tell Hanoi I love her
Jenny’s mother in the nail salon
Bedazzled star-spangled t-shirt tiger mom
Saw the flag on my hat, told me to take it off
Tell Hanoi I love her
I keep no grudge against some Old World kin
Not letting go, now, that’s the bodhisattva’s sin
I named my Chrysler after Ho Chi Minh
Tell Hanoi I love her
I got an auntie, oh, but man alive
Last election cast a ballot for 45
If I’d seen what she’s seen, I might see her side
Tell Hanoi I love her
I dream of junks, oh, to sail away
Wash your feet on a beach in Ha Long Bay
My mother said once that’s where dragons lay
Tell Hanoi I love her
We bleed as cheap as our enemy
And we die just as needlessly
Once, I thought there was just one of me
Tell Hanoi I love her
Fumble with numbers, I just wanna sing
Ain’t nothing sadder than some gook with an American dream
Sometimes I think the most communist things…
Tell Hanoi I love her
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10. |
Khmerica
03:53
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Some nights, I’m a tourist to my kind
Landscape caught within a frame, a glimpse of another side
Call you, call you in my best Khmerican
Painter, pick up your round brush and fill the details in
Be my eyes
Cracked paint, a place enchanted
The colors of your life
Sunsets playing on the temple
And you, who survived
Be my eyes
Some kids move because their parents take new jobs
Some kids move ʼcause of Napalm
Cracked paint, a place enchanted
The colors of your life
Siem Reap bathed in gold and umber and
Palm trees climb so high
Sunsets playing on the temple
And you, you who survived
Be my eyes, father, be my eyes
I can play the old music
We can dance to all the old songs
But I’ll never walk with you through it
What a cruel, cruel task to belong
Yay said, “The moon ain’t sitting right”
When you wanted to marry mom
Be my eyes, father, oh be my eyes
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11. |
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There are no bridges to the past
Don’t fool yourself when you look back
The time is up, the years are gone
You have for now but not for long
Pass it on and pass it by
Kiss me good night
Three stripes on a yellow cloth
A fake tattoo that won’t wash off
You are more than what you lost
Kiss me good night
I met Chibby in the temple
Out in San Francisco
She put my mind to ease
I sit here from my privileged throne
Painting scars and tossing bones
Making puppets of the dead
A fetish for my bookish head
What part of history may I take?
Only the part which you might make.
Kiss me good night,
Kiss me, good night
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12. |
Tony Ramone
03:19
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Tony likes the Ramones
At least he thinks the t-shirt’s alright
Lucky rabbit foot on
His hair is ready for Friday night
Neon lights paint you so pretty
Bumming ‘round Chinatown
Ducks hanging up in the window
Waiting for Mrs. Chiu to come down
With a bottle of top-shelf baiiju
She got from a brother back home
Now, I’ll head down to Catherine Street
To find Tony Ramone
Tony likes the Ramones
At least he likes the “Blitzkrieg Bop”
We share a pair of headphones
And a cot up in a bachelor’s loft
The cat sweater lady’s selling sandals
On the corner of Mott and Grand
Her friend is bundled up like a child
Behind her, ray gun in hand
The fishmongers down on Henry
Perfume themselves with cigarette smoke
Now, I’ll head down to Catherine Street
To find Tony Ramone
Tony likes the Ramones
Ticket stub from the Palladium
His sister missed the show
Back to Queens on the F Train alone
Neon lights flicker off so quickly
Pale morning in Chinatown
I watch the funeral pass below the window
Then I walk with Mrs. Chiu down
To meet Rebecca around the corner
For their daily Columbus Park stroll
Now, I’ll head down to Catherine Street
Yeah, I’ll split for Catherine Street
I’ll head down to Catherine Street
To find Tony Ramone
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No-No Boy Portland, Oregon
Nashville born. Living in Oregon. Musician, scholar. New album "1975" out on Smithsonian Folkways spring 2021.
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