The Tres Amigos

by http://www.thetresamigos.net

The Tres Amigos cover art
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about

Finally, after a year of harrowing adventures through the picante American heartland, here is the highly anticipated second release from New York-based folk sensation, The Tres Amigos.

Despite having been recorded in the deep-end of a public swimming pool and despite its deep-fried, sweet-and-sour texture, The Tres Amigos latest effort leaves many problematic questions unanswered:

What really happened at the Rockabilly festival where the Amigos played for two solitary men tailgating on top of a giant cliff at ten in the morning? (And where they only narrowly avoided being impaled by shish-kabob-wielding, incensed pompadours...)

What about the grey fox mysteriously found dead on the side of the road by state troopers the following morning?

How do we account for the startling photos of the Amigos passed out in a giant margarita glass in the foggy hills of Grassy Creek, North Carolina?

Why did they spend a bemused night in a teepee in Taos, New Mexico?

And who fished them out of the San Francisco Bay after the Mutiny on the Ruby Sloop of War?

When the truth is missing like the worm in the tequila bottle I bought the Amigos on Valentines Day, we must either retreat to the terrible recesses of speculation or throw up our hands and join in the bacchanal. I suggest the latter.

Now where's my julep...

Jean-Luc Poivre
Editor-in-Chief, "The Spicy Special"

credits

released 12 March 2012
All The Time by Sam Reider
Pull That Bottle by Justin Poindexter
Jenny by Justin Poindexter
California Blues adapted by Sam Reider from traditional.
The Tres Amigos Radio Jingle by Sam Reider

Jenny and California recorded and mixed in Winston-Salem, NC by Allen Laws.

All The Time, Pull That Bottle, and The Tres Amigos Radio Jingle recorded by Justin Poindexter and mixed by Damon Whittemore.

Tambourine by Joe Saylor

Mastering by Damon Whittemore, ValveTone LLC.

All Rights Reserved 2012.

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about

Fresh off a 14-state, cross-country tour, The Tres Amigos are New York City's hottest folk act. They present high-energy ... more original music and forgotten gems in bold, acrobatic performances. Behind those matching mariachi shirts are virtuosic musicians and songwriters, delivering the goods in sunny three-part harmony and with all the vibe of your uncle’s old ‘45’s. less

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Track Name: All The Time
All the time, all the time,
I just want my baby all the time.
Ginger ale and jack on ice,
One big bowl of beans and rice,
She knows how to do me right,
Let's do it now,
And all the time.

All the time, all the time,
I just want my baby all the time.
Louis Armstrong makes her dance,
She says I've got magic hands,
But I can't keep em off her pants,
Take off your pants,
All the time.

Before I found her
I was just a rounder
But now I've got my arms around her
And she's mine.

All the time, all the time,
I just want my baby all the time.
Ginger ale and jack on ice,
One big bowl of beans and rice,
She knows how to do me right,
Let's do it now,
And all the time.
Track Name: Fiddleheads
When I was a young man
I had a lady
Sweeter than gravy
Hotter than June

Up in her bedroom
The window was darkened
I'm in the garden
Shouting at the moon

Roll roll roll out the door
Mama wont blow what your daddy don't know
Roll down the hill where fiddle heads grow
Down where the fiddle heads grow

Watching for showers
Smoking the flowers
Wasting the hours
Shooting at stars

Up on the bleachers
Under the moonlight
Out of your teeshirt
And into my arms

Roll roll roll out the door
Mama wont blow what your daddy don't know
Roll down the hill where fiddle heads grow
Down where the fiddle heads grow

Roll in the river
Roll down the mountain
Jump in the fountain
No one will know

Look at those old folks
Playing that old song
Wishing that they had
Never gone home

Roll roll roll out the door
Mama wont blow what your daddy don't know
Roll down the hill where fiddle heads grow
Down where the fiddle heads grow
Track Name: California Blues
I'm goin to California, where they sleep out every night.
Yes I'm goin to California, where they sleep out every night.
Cause those New York City women sure don't treat me right.

I'd rather drink that muddy water, and sleep in a hollow log.
I'd rather drink that muddy water, and sleep in a hollow log.
Than to be in New York City, treated like a doggone dog.

Well that California water, you know it tastes like cherry wine.
Well that California water, you know it tastes like cherry wine.
But that New York City water, it tastes like turpentine.

It's been four years since I've seen my true love's smiling face.
It's been four years since I've seen my true love's smiling face.
A smile like morning sunshine the darkness can't erase.