The Buggy Jive Mixtape

by Buggy Jive

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1.
Black faces in black spaces, in the dailies they reflect no light. French money man is begging her to show their eyes. Black faces in black spaces, on the daily, darkness whisperers. French money asking: “Ou sont les yeux?" She ain't trying to be that girl. Don't walk her on with “Glory". She ain't trying to save the world. It’s enough to tell a story. Black faces in white spaces, collect art with your aunt and absorb the light. Black faces in white spaces, daddy’s little spies. Black panic, white panic, confessor black, tesseract, daddy’s little girl Hop from planet to planet, she gonna save the world. Money talks, so you keep talking. You still broke but you keep talking. It’s your masterstroke that you keep talking. Cuz they think they woke but they sleepwalking. A black girl is gonna save the world. Black faces in black spaces It's a jail, it’s a cell It's the road to Hell Paved with good intentions It’s the hull of a ship It’s a footstep, it’s a bridge Will you sink, can you swim Whozit Whaztit and Which Fight a might, make a right Paint with celluloid and light It’s the promise of life It's the promise of life She was raised on the promises of life It’s the promise of life In your heart, in your heart It’s the waters of a march. Keep on tryin to tell our story Wild nights are your glory.
2.
PART ONE: "Rules and Thangs" They don’t want: “It’s like...” No similes. No metaphors. They want the thang, baby. They don’t want: “I remember....” Memory’s just personal fiction. They want the thang, baby. These are the rules of engagement. They don’t want: “Tell me why... I wanna know...” They did not come to you for questions. This ain't Jeopardy, baby. They don’t want: “I feel...” No one gives a damn about the way you feel. Everybody's feeling feelings all the time! It's the All-American Crisis of Empathy™. Everybody be like: “But what about me?” These are the rules of engagement. They want the thang. Give 'em the thang. For the poetry and prose of it You can't get too close to it. For the path of real resistance When you find gold, keep your distance. PART TWO: "The Center Cannot Hold" Another night, I'm all alone. Just documentaries and chill. And I recall how in old photographs She stood so very still. Malibu cool. Arms akimbo. Han Solo patio. California limbo. But now she’s moving y'all. She is moving! She's like a prizefighter Swinging at the carriage of a Typewriter. Swinging an arm with every syllable As if her words ain't enough. She be swinging them delicate arms Like the conversation has come to fisticuffs. Uppercuts in uppercase And italics and a giant font And boldface And I'm feeling like I'm on the benzadrine Cuz her arms be reaching at me through the screen. And I wanna know what it all means. And I wanna know what it all means. I try to take her hand; she takes a swing at me. And I am down; and then she sings to me Words of wisdom while standing over me. Like a prayer. Like the rosary. Standing over me, she is scolding me, With no effs left to give She be sayin it like this here, y’all: “We tell ourselves stories in order to live.”
3.
"Les enfants qui applaudissent sur l'un ne vont pas au paradis." This is not a pipe This is not a pipe This is not a right This is not a pipe This is not right This is not wrong This is not a pipe This is not a song "This is weird." This is not a pipe This is not crack This is not white This is not black This ain't yo ass This ain't yo face This is not about class This is not about race "Why is it always about race with you people?" Because it is. Now try these shoes on. Big feet. This ain't no Mardi Gras Or San Francisco This ain't no party, y'all This ain't no disco This ain't jazz This ain't the blues This ain't the network This ain't the news "And the moon turns to blood." This ain't no painting Ain't no Matisse Ain't no Picasso Ain't no Magritte This is the treachery. Of images. Of ideas. Of sound. This is the treachery Of humanity. Of democracy. Of mediocrity. This is the treachery. Of images. Of ideas. Of sound. Of song. Of harmony. Of the P-bass. Of this phat beat. Of the guitar. Of the One. Of the One. Of the One. La la la la la la la la la. "Don't you dare clap on the one." "The One is not for clapping, the One is where yo' ass goes." "Stop clapping on the One! Don't make me stop this song." La la la la la la la la la.
4.
E And Noah began to be a husbandman And he planted a vineyard: And he drank the wine And he was drunken; And uncovered And Ham Father of Canaan Saw the nakedness of his father And he told his brothers about it And the brothers, they took a garment And laid it upon their shoulders And covered the nakedness of Noah And Noah awoke from his wine And Noah knew what Ham had done And he said: "Cursed be Canaan Servant of servants Unto his brethren." "Blessed be the Lord God of Shem And Canaan shall be his servant. Blessed be the Lord God of Japheth And Canaan shall be his servant. Canaan, servant of servants." And God blessed Noah and his sons. And He said unto them: "Be fruitful and multiply and replenish the Earth.:
5.
Lord, make me bigger Where I need to be bigger. Make my hair bigger. Make my lips bigger. Make my behind bigger. Some days I must be everything I must be everything All things to everyone. Lord, make me blacker When I need to be blacker. My my hair blacker. Make my lips blacker. Make my behind blacker. Some days I must be everything I must be everything All things to everyone.
6.
Double feature drive in and Drive by and Superfly Footie pajama epiphany Rueben has Cleo and Mommy has kilos But who is this brotha with Tiffany? You know his bear hug But in our house he was doodlebug Doodle brings money to Mommy's top poppy shop But doodle wants off the plantation Doodle tells Mommy the poppy crop has got to stop He wants out of this blaxploitation You know his bear hug But in our house he was doodlebug You know his bear hug But in our house he was doodlebug So mommy squashed the doodlebug. Squashed his boys pickle and fireplug. But the good lord let tiffany get away. Do not mourn doodle. Murning is futile. The brotha rose again. Check the database. Finesse Vaness Pops Hennessy Mr. Henri Shoop Summers Smitty Rollins Bellamey Lightfoot Legraaaand Mr. Zhaaaaaang Flyguy One-Eye 'Fast' Freddie Tibbs Marshall Gripps Jimmy Lipps Bobby Chiclets Sweet Tooth Old School Sweetstick DOODLEBUG SIMKINS Bill Boudreaux Colonel Devraux Otis Jones Leonard Jones Tobias Jones Father Riley Jeffrey Knight Bernstein Chandler CHANDLER BERNSTEIN Quickfellow Buffalo Jerry Blackmore (Mo Black) Paco Paco El Gato Negro And Lindy! Lindy! Y'all act like you forgot about Lindy! Lindy, Lindy! Don't forget: "Honey: I am more man than you'll ever be And more woman than you'll ever get." Black do not crack though the brotha is older. Make art as we stand on their shoulders. It's all love for Doodlebug.
7.
We got to make a party out of this funeral Cuz sooner than you know we will all be departing Don't you want to be up in that numeral Second line, saints go marching We are dying. The sun, one day, will refuse to shine. The rivers, soon, will run with blood. But balloons and dancing shoes, so get in line. Fall in y'all for one last big fun. We are dying. We are dying, too. It's aparty funeral Trip the light fantastic It's a party funeral So get up out that casket Martha moanin, Mary weeps Selfish layin down acting like you sleep I got the black and she got the blues It's time for you to put on yo dancin shoes Get out that box and move to the funk Stink up the joint like Lazarus. Like Lazarus. Lazurus. Stinking up the joint like Lazarus. Stand up! This is on you, baby. Don't get too comfortable. This is on you, baby. You gotta get up. Is heaven getting good to you? Or is it hell? Does the heat feel good to you? Well you gotta get up. Don't leave me at this part all alone, baby. You gotta get up.
8.
A beautiful world I'm trying to find I am known to stay awake A beautiful world iI'm trying to find I've been in search of myself It's just too hard for me to find Said it's just too hard for me to find I am in the search of something new Searchin' me Searching inside of you And thats fo' real What if it were no n****s Only master teachers? I stay woke Even if yo baby ain't got no money To support ya baby, you Even when the preacher tell you some lies And cheatin on ya mama, you stay woke Even though you go through struggle and strife To keep a healthy life, I stay woke Everybody knows a black or a white there's creatures in every shape and size Everybody (I stay woke) Everybody, stay (I stay woke) Get everybody (I stay woke) Everybody body baby A beautiful world I'm trying to find
9.
02:17
10.
We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,— This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we smile, And mouth with myriad subtleties. Why should the world be over-wise, In counting all our tears and sighs? Nay, let them only see us, while We wear the mask. We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries To thee from tortured souls arise. We sing, but oh the clay is vile Beneath our feet, and long the mile; But let the world dream otherwise, We wear the mask! When the wing is bruised and the bosom sore, We beat the bars to get some free; It is not a carol of joy or glee, But a prayer from the heart’s deep core. It's a prayer from the heart's deep core It's a prayer from the heart's deep core It's a prayer from the heart's deep core It's a prayer from the heart's deep core

about

After years of quietly uploading soul rock songs and music videos from a basement somewhere in Upstate New York, this "mixtape" marks a more formal debut for singer-songwriter Professor Buggy Jive. Equal parts Zeppelin and D’Angelo and Prince and Joni Mitchell in sound and sensibility, his lyrics often mine the literature of the past to make sense of the present – from Ellison to Morrison to Eliot to Didion. “Literary Kravitz,” as some say. On rare occasions, he will come out of the basement to perform his songs live – armed with a Telecaster and a pedalboard that’s a bit too big. But Buggy Jive does not come out of the basement often, and it’s a problem. This album was released in conjunction with his compromise on live performance and touring - a video, "The Buggy Jive House Concert," filmed in his home studio for a small audience of some of his oldest and dearest friends.

credits

released May 11, 2018

All stuff written and performed by Buggy Jive except: "Master Teacher" was written by Georgia Anne Muldrow and originally appeared on Erykah Badu's album New Amerykah Part One (4th World War), used by permission; the lyrics to "We Wear the Mask" are by Paul Laurence Dunbar, from his poem of the same name, and are in the public domain; and all beats are courtesy The Loop Loft. Mastered by Troy Pohl.

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Buggy Jive Albany, New York

PROFESSOR BUGGY JIVE is a soul rock singer-songwriter quietly uploading music from a basement somewhere in Upstate New York.

Equal parts Zeppelin and D’Angelo and Prince and Joni in sound and sensibility, his lyrics often mine the literature of the past to make sense of the present – from Ellison to Morrison to Eliot to Didion.

“Literary Kravitz,” as some say.
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