http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=76FhI6dj-HE

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jTzYG5GLLYI

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids....

More fun than you.

Below are the lyrics to the newly posted song, "If You're Gonna Raise A Drunk".
John Sebastian (Lovin' Spoonful) played rhythm guitar on this track. When he came out of recording his part, he said, "you've got a hit record there".
Well that would be nice, what the hell is a hit record these days anyway?  I think it means the new Blackberry uses it for their latest annoying add, so some folks say, hey, who is that, google the song and download it from limewire.
There is not as much sex and cocaine in that equation as the hit song in the seventies equation had, which one sounds more fun?

I wasn't going to record or play this song originally, I thought it was too corny and sounded like a Jimmy Buffett song. My wife and bass player Daria Grace, said, "oh you have to do that one", "that's the hit". Well apparently, Sebastian thought so too.
   Recently, we were playing @ Barbes in Brooklyn to a warm entusiastic crowd. We finished the show and I headed to the bar, a fella walked up to me and said, "hey, great show, I loved that Jimmy Buffett cover you did, what was that song called again?"
Friends, that may have made some say, oh to hell with that song! but I decided instead to embrace it, and take the ride (if any) however strange down that road to margaritaville and have a drink or two, let's see if anybody is left at the bar down there. They may all be partying on Facebook in this new fangled century.

Computerly yours,
Jack



IF YOU'RE GONNA RAISE A DRUNK

Oh yeah it's a real hard job; a real hard job
Cause if you're gonna raise a drunk you might as well do it right
Teach him how to laugh and to always be polite
Make people smile and have a beautiful night
Cause if you're gonna raise a drunk
You might as well do it right

Teach him how to get home quiet, take off his shoes
Know when to shut his mouth so he don't look like a fool
Oh yeah it's a real hard job, a real hard job

And when the summer comes I like that beer by my side
Just to keep things moving along
A couple of mai tais and a Pu Pu Platter
At that place with the dragon in front
I like that frozen margarita while fightin' with the mariachi band
Somewhere in San Francisco

Teach him how to get home quiet, take off his shoes
Know when to shut his mouth so he don't look like a fool
Oh yeah it's a real hard job, a real hard job

And when the summer comes I like that beer by my side
Just to keep things moving along
A couple of mai tais and a Pu Pu Platter
At that place with the dragon in front
I like that frozen margarita while dancin' with the mariachi band
Somewhere in San Francisco

Cause if you're gonna raise a drunk you might as well do it right
Teach him how to laugh and to always be polite
Make people smile and have a beautiful night
If you're gonna raise a drunk
You might as well do it right

Oh yeah it's a real hard job; a real hard job
Oh yeah it's a real hard job
Oh yeah it's a real real real real real hard job

Hey,
We will be @ Rodeo Bar 9 to 12 every Sunday starting in April.
here is a review from last night’s show.
Come by
Jack



http://lucidculture.wordpress.com/2008/04/07/the-jack-grace-band-live-at-rodeo-bar-nyc-3606/

The Jack Grace Band Live at Rodeo Bar, NYC 4/6/06
April 7, 2008 ·

The Jack Grace Band is at Rodeo Bar every Sunday this month at about 9:15, and this is a residency you should see. As the Dog Show said, Saturday nights are for amateurs, so it follows that Sundays are for the pros. Seeing the baritone country crooner/guitarist and his cohorts onstage with such a small crowd in the house was bizarre: in fact, being able to see everybody in the band without standing on tiptoe behind a bunch of people was weird. But good. This residency is born of tragedy: Grace is trying to put together a new sound without the services of his longtime lead player, lapsteel genius Drew Glackin, whose sudden, unexpected death at a young age last January caught everyone he played with (and that’s a LOT of New York musicians) completely off guard. But Grace is an excellent lead guitarist, with a terse, incisive, bluesy style, and armed with his new Telecaster, he let loose a lot of searing, even raging solos, getting the new axe to scream like his trusty old hollowbody Gibson can’t. It’s clear that this is somebody who’s still furious about losing his good friend and bandmate (Glackin had a rare thyroid condition that, if he’d had health insurance, would almost surely have been diagnosed long before it killed him). Although the anger doesn’t make it into Grace’s voice: his smooth, soulful delivery was as sly as ever, as he and the band kicked off the set with a new song, the swinging drunk-driving anthem The Worst Truck Driver in the World, a dead ringer for Junior Brown at his most entertaining.



Grace didn’t have his usual bassist, his wife Daria with him onstage tonight, but the sub guy held up his end admirably (drummer Russ Meissner, a jazzcat playing country music, made it easy). Piano player Bill Malchow added a New Orleans blues feel, especially on the darker, minor-key, somewhat Tom Waits-inflected numbers, and sang in a Dr. John-style N’awlins drawl when Grace gave him a lead vocal.



The band mixed upbeat party anthems including This Hangover Ain’t Mine and 7:30 in the Afternoon (a wise, knowing guide to how to kick a really bad hangover: sleep!) with several eerie, bluesy tunes including Kick off Your Shoes Moonshine, an older song that Grace has yet to record. Grace’s lyrics are craftsmanlike and imbued with great wit. He knows that the best country music is anything but unsophisticated: in the pre-rock rock era, if you wanted really good lyrics, you either had to listen to blues or "hillbilly music." This sophistication came to the forefront on the dark, haunting, minor-key Cry, from Grace’s most recent album The Martini Cowboy, which begins as the blissed-out, wired narrator offers a girl coke, knowing fully well that the blow will only keep the angst away for so long.



Late in their first set, they segued out of a song into a long, meandering, somewhat swampy interlude that could have been vintage Little Feat. And then they played (Let Your) Mind Do the Talking. It’s Grace’s best song, a haunting, backbeat-driven blues tune about a drunk slowly losing it, and his version tonight was nothing short of transcendent. "I got a dream for a dog but it always needs walking/When you’ve got nothing to lose you let your mind do the talking," Grace intoned ominously, building to a crescendo at the end with a screaming, noisy guitar solo while the piano and drums pounded out the beat.



Grace and his band have a pretty Herculean live schedule, so you always have several chances a month to see them, but if this residency is anything like it was tonight, it could be something special.



By the way, in case there are any deep-fried pickle enthusiasts out there, Rodeo Bar is the one place in town (other than, say, some stand at the San Gennaro festival) that sells them. They come with a sour cream and onion dipping sauce – and if you ask, the waiter will bring you some freshly chopped jalapenos as well - and are enthusiastically recommended.

Andrew Glackin 1963-2008
Drew Glackin, the most original lap steel player we have ever heard, one of the best friends we have ever had, and one of the most special humans this world was lucky enough to be treated to, passed away on January 5th 2008. He was unaware of an overactive thyroid condition that led to severe heart damage. Our thoughts are with his amazing family who has shown tremendous strength and love. The world just got a little bit more boring without you Drew. Forty four years was not enough, we are all applauding, banging on the tables demanding more. You made a difference and we thank you so much for everything you brought us, who you helped make us to be. We hope to make you proud of the years we have ahead. We know how you'd like it to be. It's not like you were ever vague about what you wanted. Thank you so very very much Mr. Glackin sir, what an amazing time we had.

June 20, 2002

So, the Merle story:
We shook hands at soundcheck. He introduced himself, "Hi I'm Merle". Then I left him to do what he had to do. My set started shortly after 7:30 PM just playin' to about 1400 folks settling in. About 7:35 the sewage backs up in this beautiful outdoor venue, and as I'm gettin into my first song, a big waft of well, waste comes blowin' over me and the crowd. I'm thinkin' to myself, "Do I smell what I think I smell?" I carry on slightly distracted, and the set was well received (nice clapping after the songs and all that).

I walk off the stage and shortly after, run into Merle coming down the stone steps in the back (he couldn't have watched the show from any spot without being crowded by admirers). He locks eyes with me and says,"Howdya do?"

"I think we all had a good time out there, they should be warmed up for ya".

"Well thank you," he replied.

"Merle, I was wondering if you would sign this guitar for me"? I pulled out my 1947 Gibson LG2 all nice and worn,

"You don't want someone like me writing all over a beautiful guitar like this," he said.

"Merle, that is exactly what I would love you to do."

He smiled and obliged, then lifted the guitar and felt the weight of it and said, "Mmm. Feels like there's a few more songs in this one," and handed it back to me. I felt sufficiently blessed and asked him if he might play "If I Could Only Fly." A few of The Strangers (Merle's band) were standing behind him and said, "Did you hear him Merle? He wants to hear "If I could Only Fly." He looked at the band and then at me and said, "Yeah, I think we can play that one tonight, sure".

I told him enjoy the show and he headed on to the stage as the Merle hungry crowd erupted at the site of our hero. He opened with "Wino In The Corner "(this venue is The Paul Masson Winery). I can't remember the second, and number three was "If I Could Only Fly". The show was truly amazing, everyone had a great time and my guitar now plays better than it ever did.

Yes, playing with Jerry Lee was quite a thrill, Martin Scorsese was there, and it was 10 times the thrill that Jerry listened and actually liked us.
Whilst he was listening to us from backstage he said, "He sounds like that Cash kid, only good."
He played amazing well, great show, no oldies revue, just played whatever came to mind.
I shook his hand again as he was leaving, I said what an honor it was to share the stage with him.
He leaned in and said, "I really enjoyed your set".
That moment my friends made me feel connected to the history of great American music like no other.
So what I'm saying is I am really gonna be an arrogant sonofabitch .......as if ya didn't think it was bad enough already. It's time for some real red M&M's only , rock star, get outta my way BS. Yup.


PS I took out part of the story that a certain newspaper took OUT OF CONTEXT and made Jerry Lee sound like anything other than the coolest legend alive, (which he is) and it made me sound like I actually told a certain newspaper something (which I did not).
Any way f%&k that, what an amazing night!!
Jack

Dang these stupid computers , what am i doing at this stupid thing again, and what are you doing at your computer again for that matter? I think I'm gonna try being on the computer less and see what else the world has to offer. Log in to this , log that , enter this! to hell with it.
I'm glad this computer helps me to explain this to you. Computers are a way we can interact without having to brush our teeth.
I'm gonna go brush my teeth.
jack