Swamp Yankee

When people ask me what my song 'Swamp Yankee” is about, I tell them to just imagine that James Brown had discovered his Pequot ancestry and moved to New London, Connecticut, where he got reacquainted with the native side of his family. Big gatherings, powwows, corn on the cob, lobster, learning new songs, drumming and dancing. Aayup.

It was also the first song I asked my friend Polly Messer to sing on, back when I was first doing overdubs, in December 2006. I hadn't seen her in 14 years, and when she walked up the stairs, looking so beautiful (and smelling so good ~~ Shalimar ~~) I was smitten. And when she sang that Indian chant - Wow, she nailed it!

So I kept asking her to sing on more and more songs. The making of "An American Record" was our courtship. Three months later I asked her to marry me. When she said yes, I was truly the happiest I've ever been.
Thank you, Polly, for believing in me, for singing so incredibly well on this album and co-producing it with me. And thanks to Tom Majesky for your exquisite guitar sounds, Dave Stoltz for your funky bigfoot bass playing, Rob Gottfried for nailing down the groove, Jose Goico for playing ALL THREE of your congas, Bill Holloman for being one funky horn section! And thank you Bill Ahearn for mixing and mastering this record and making it sound so great.

So, from "An American Record", here's the first track "Swamp Yankee". Go grab a lobster claw and enjoy this tune.

Here are the lyrics:
SWAMP YANKEE
words & music by Grayson Hugh

Ayup
I'm goin' down east
I'm goin' under
gonna fill my boots
with the rain & thunder
from Ammonoosuc
down to Chicopee
I'm gonna ride this river
right to the sea

I ain't no punk (ain't no punk)
just a little bit stanky (a little bit stanky)
I got the funk (I got the funk)
I'm a swamp yankee (swamp yankee)
swamp yankee
yes I am, swamp yankee

Y'see, my grandpa
he's a half Pequot
scrapin' a livin'
from a lobster pot
he was raised
by the mooncussers
Methodist deacons
them turkey buzzards
grew a family
of his own
put down roots
in a field of stone

He ain't no punk (ain't no punk)
just a little bit cranky (a little bit cranky)
he got the funk (he got the funk)
of a swamp yankee (swamp yankee)
swamp yankee
ah, yes he is, yes he is
swamp yankee
hey, ayuh

It's been hardscrabble
since the mill shut down
but I'm a barnacle
on the edge of town
I built this trailer (oh yes he did)
in the sand
so let the tide come in, I don't care
I'm a lobster man

I ain't no punk (ain't no punk)
just a little bit stanky (a little bit stanky)
I got the funk (I got the funk)
I'm a swamp yankee (swamp yankee)
I got a yard fulla junk (yard fulla junk)
ain't nothin' swanky (nothin' swanky)
I got the funk (I got the funk)
I'm a, I'm a, I'm a, I'm a
I'm a swamp yankee
oh, nothin' but a swamp yankee
yes I am, now lookit, baby
I got the claw
of a lobstermon
and when I go to work
I get the job done
tell ya I got the claw
of nothin' but a swamp yankeemon....

Heya ya heya ya, heya ya hey, heya ya heya, hey hey yahey
Heya ya heya ya, heya ya hey, heya ya heya, hey hey yahey
Yaya yaya heya ya, hey yaya heya hey, yaya ya yaya, heyhey, ya yaya hey
Yaya yaya heya ya, hey yaya heya hey, yaya ya yaya, heyhey, ya yaya hey
Heya ya heya ya, heya ya hey, heya ya heya, hey hey yahey
Heya ya heya ya, heya ya hey, heya ya heya, hey hey yahey

© 2010 by Swamp Yankee Music/ASCAP