I keep promising Lord Buckley and have been caught up in writing other stuff for the new issue of Beatdom, that is number Eight, the SEX Issue. Since it is Sunday, a day of rest and a time for some to worship, let us take a look at the worshippers and the Worshipped, as seen by and told through the words of our hero, Lord Buckley!
This is about the Sermon on the Mount and is called, The Nazz (a word stolen by David Bowie in Ziggy Stardust) and an old rock group by that name…
|Now look at all you cats and kitties out there whippin’ and wailin’ and jumpin’ up and down and suckin’ up all that juice and pattin’ each other on the back and hippin’ each other who the greatest cat in the world is: Mr. Malenkov, Mr. Talenkov, Mr. Eisenhower, Mr. Wozenweezer, Mr. Wisenwoser, Mr. Woodhill, Mr. Beachill an’ Mr. Churchill and all them hills gonna’ get you straight. If they can’t get you straight, they know a cat that knows a cat who’ll straighten you. But I’m gonna put a cat on you, was the coolest, grooviest, sweetest, wailinest, strongest, swinginest cat that ever stomped on this jumpin’ green sphere and they called this here cat the Naz.
He was a carpenter kitty. Now the Nazz was the kind of a cat that come on so cool and so groovy and so with it that when he laid it down, whabam! It stayed there! Naturally all the rest of the cats said, “Man, look at that cat wail! He’s wailin’ up a storm up there. Hey, eh, ain’t it down right? Hey, get off my back Jack! What’s the matter with you? I’m tryin’ to dig what the cat’s puttin’ down!” They’re pushin’ the Nazz to dig his miracle lick, and the Nazz say, “Cool, babies. Tell ya’ what I’m gonna do. I ain’t gonna take two, four six, eight of you cats, but I’m gonna take all twelve of you studs and straighten you all at the same time. Say, you cats look like you pretty hip.” He say, “You buddy with me.”
So The Nazz and his buddies was goofin’ off down the boulevard one day and they run into a little cat with the bent frame. So The Nazz look at this little cat with the bent frame and he say, “What’s a matter wit’ you, baby?”
Everybody talkin’ about The Nazz, what a great cat he was, how he swung with the glory of love, how he straighten out all the squares, how he stomp into the money changin’ cart and kicked the short change all over the place and knockin’ the corners off the squares. How he put it down to the one cat, dug it, didn’t dig it. Put it down twice, dug it, didn’t dig it. Put it down the third time, dug it, boom, walked away with his eyes buggin’ out to here bumpin’ into everybody. And they’re pullin’ on The Nazz’s coat tail, they want him to sign the autograph. They want him to do a gig here, do a gig there, play the radio, play the video; He can’t make all that jazz! Like I ‘splained to you he’s a carpenter kitty, got his own lick. But when he know he should go and show and blow, and cannot go, cause he got too much strain on him, straightenin’ out the squares…he sends a coupla’ these cats that he’s hippin’. So came a little sixty-cent gig one day and the Nazz was in a bind, and he put it on a coupla’ boys. He said, “Boys, take care of that for me, would ya?”