Stable Condition

by The Randy Abel Stable

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Stable Condition is the debut album of China's darlings of Americana, The Randy Abel Stable. It is a veritable cornucopia of honky tonk, country, bluegrass and blues.

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released July 1, 2013

Produced and arranged by The Randy Abel Stable. Recorded, mixed and mastered in Beijing, China.

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The Randy Abel Stable Beijing, China

The Randy Abel Stable is an Americana or Alt-Country band from Beijing. Formed in 2011, The Randy Abel Stable combines honky tonk, country, bluegrass and blues to produce a unique sound that has been described as having "the realism and sadness of Townes Van Zandt, the imagery and lyricism of Hank Williams Sr. and the excitement and raw energy of the Ramones." ... more

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Track Name: Bluford Abel
Lyrics:

Come on down the mountain Bluford Abel
Come on down the mountain Whiskey Blue
Can’t you hear us callin, Bluford Abel?
We wanna drink that good ol’ mountain dew!

Bluford left his home up on the mountain
To join Virginia’s fightin Forty-Two
But shrapnel in the arm for Stonewall Jackson
Held nothin to that good ol’ mountain dew

Come on down the mountain Bluford Abel
Come on down the mountain Whiskey Blue
Can’t you hear us callin, Bluford Abel?
We wanna drink your good ol’ mountain dew!

He wore the ball & chain in Richmond city
When the war was lost, the gates was opened wide
He threw that ball & chain in ol’ Jim’s river
And lighted-out across the Great Divide

Come on down the mountain Bluford Abel
Come on down the mountain Whiskey Blue
Can’t you hear us callin Bluford Abel?
We wanna drink that good ol’ mountain dew!

He wrastled with a bear up on Clinch Mountain
He wrastled with the revenuers too
If you’re up by Abel’s Curve and feelin thirsty
Ol’ Whiskey Blue is bound to wrastle you!

Come on down the mountain Bluford Abel
Come on down the mountain Whiskey Blue
Can’t you hear us callin Bluford Abel?
We wanna drink that good ol’ mountain dew!

© 2000 Rustbowl Refugee Music
Track Name: Stable Condition
Lyrics:

Stable condition
I’m nearly on my way
That’s what the doctors say
When they come by each day
Stable condition
I’ll soon come home to you
Stave off this endless blue
Your cryin too

The bottle’s all I’ve had to stop the pain
Last week the bottle let me down again
So now the only bottle near and dear to me
Is drippin slow i.v. into my vein

Chorus

They say a man can’t quit this on his own
But whiskey’s been the one true friend I’ve known
So, Darlin, tell these demons flyin ‘round my bed
I’d just as soon be dead than live alone

Stable condition
Though in an aweful way
I’ve still got Hell to pay
While strugglin day to day
Stable condition
My thoughts are home with you
Drownin in endless blue
You’re cryin too

© 2011 Rustbowl Refugee Music
Track Name: This Old Town
Lyrics:

This old town, she’s older than most;
The centuries weigh down on the hand at her throat.

This old town, she was swaddled in sin;
Her daddy rode in at the head of an ill wind.

This old town, she was raised on the plains,
Her galloping heart pumping dust through her veins.

This old town, she didn’t mellow with age;
She’s a beauty parlor queen packing a twelve gauge.

This old town, she presses me so hard,
I gotta lay my head in her willow gardens,
And dream about the days gone by in this old town.

© 2012 Joshua Dyer
Track Name: Buzzards of Hinckley (Still Remind Me of You)
Buzzards of Hinckley (Still Remind Me of You)

Sweetheart, the buzzards of Hinckley
Still remind me of you.
Their return marks distinctly
When I’m lonesome and blue.
It was Buzzards’ Day last year
You swore you’d always be true.
As buzzards circle en masse, Dear,
I wish you’d migrate back, too.

The buzzards darkend this skyline
When you promised last Spring
You’d come back to be all mine,
Wedding bells soon would ring.
Buzzards’ Day is here now, Love,
The happy crowds dance and sing;
But you have broken your vow, Love,
It’s only misery they bring.

Twilight is grayin the pathway,
Buzzards wing overhead.
They hear me curse the black day
I believed we would wed.
Buzzard feathers are brown, Babe—
Like me, their faces are red.
I feel them staring me down, Babe—
Like me, they wish I was dead.

Chorus

Sittin by Buzzards’ Lake, Dear,
Sunken down through and through.
Ranger says I can’t stay here
While the sun’s sinkin too.
He says the birds’ll come next year,
I tell him this can’t be true—
Dear, even the buzzards of Hinckley
Can’t carry on without you.

© 2003, 2012 Rustbowl Refugee Music
Track Name: Czexan
Lyrics:

Don’t you ever call me when you been drinkin’
You gave me the cold shoulder for too long.
Your lack of reciprocation got me thinkin’,
That you were only singin’ the sirens’ song.

When at first I met you, you were stunning to behold.
You flashed a smile and used your girlish charm.
We became friends and later lovers,
But your insecurities only brought me harm.

So, don’t you ever call me when you been drinkin’,
This here pain ain’t gonna last my whole life through.
Puttin’ my faith in you just kept me sinkin’
But now I’ve gone and found someone who’s true.

© 2013 Vibration and Control
Track Name: Death O'Clock Shadow
Lyrics:


When death has come and taken our loved ones
It leaves our home so lonely and drear—
Then shall we wonder why others prosper
Livin so wicked year after year.

They had my daddy in a box and I wept
To brush his cheekbone with my fingers.
But I was warmed to find faint stubble there,
Post-mortem whiskers bristling on and on.
Be you self-righteous, stout or spleenful
You’ll be lonesome in the moment should you linger
To touch your daddy’s last-lone whiskers
And wonder where his stubbly soul has gone.

They shaved his rough and dusky cheeks
But Papa’s death-o’clock shadow kept on growin
Like rugged winter blossoms bloomin on some far exotic shore.
And, father, son and Holy Stubble!
Let’s just say I got all whisked-up in the knowin
I’d touched my daddy’s death-grown whiskers
And that razor’s edge would trouble him no more.

My daddy cut steel wheels for tank cars,
Sweat in steel mills, honky-tonk bars, hustled 9-ball.
I seen him lovesick, hammered, sober, sickly, sappy
Sunday morning coming down.
But before his trials were over
At a NASCAR race in Dover he was ragin—
Man, his soul revved when them stock-cars rolled
And reeled and rocked and rumbled round & round.

Back at the Old Man’s farewell service
I was proud to feel a Circle left unbroken
As we recalled a vast and gentle soul
And sang this great old-timey gospel song
‘Bout how Farther Along we’ll all know why
And the why need not be spoken.
Lord knows I’ll sport some stubble
When I sing with Pops much farther on along.

Farther along we’ll know more about it
Farther along we’ll understand why…

Chorus

© 2006 Rustbowl Refugee Music
Track Name: Second Bar to The Right (Then Straight on 'Til Morning)
Lyrics:

We left a joint just after two
Me and my new-found motley crew
Headin toward a new locale for beer and shooters
When one woman outta three
Said, “You’ll ride along with me”
And I straddled that gal’s mean, green motor scooter

As we careened the dark hutong
She said, “I haven’t known you long,
But I’m certain why you’re so long far from home.”
I said, “Lay it on me, dear,”
Says she, “You’re old enough to hear
That you’ve a classic case of Peter Pan Syndrome.”

I told her, Peter Pan and Neverland have shit to do with me
So you can stick your knee-jerk judgements and pop-psychology
The legends are that country stars get old and darkest before dawnin
So, take the second bar to the right, then drive straight on ‘til mornin

When we reached a roundabout,
She turned her head a bit to shout,
“I know a hundred guys like you and they’re all dyin!”
But I was fresh out of bon mots
Too busy thinkin happy thoughts
And I swear that motor scooter took to flyin

Lord knows Peter Pan and Neverland have shit to do with me
So you can fuck your knee-jerk judgements and pop-psychology
The legends are that country stars get old and darkest before dawning
So, take the second bar to the right, then drive straight on ‘til morning

© 2011 Rustbowl Refugee Music
Track Name: Who's Mr. Jones?
Lyrics:

Say, who’s that man? Who’s Mr. Jones?
Make ‘em all shiver down to their bones
Well, alright, he brought it home again
On the night that Bob Dylan rocked the Beijing Workers’ Gym

Like a rollin stone, tangled up in blue
They kept a hard rain a-fallin ‘long the watchtower, too
Well, alright, rollin and tumble-in
On the night that Bob Dylan rocked the Beijing Workers’ Gym

Haters wanted times a-changin, wanted blowin in the wind
They called him out a Judas, screamin “Lawd, Bob sinned!”
Well uptight, their world view was grim
On the night that Bob Dylan rocked the Beijing Workers’ Gym

Say, who’s that man? Who’s Mr. Jones?
I heard a thin man cryin like a freight train moans
Well, alright, although the odds are slim
Bob Dylan rocked for Freedom at the Beijing Workers’ Gym

© 2011 Rustbowl Refugee Music
Track Name: Muddy Lake
Lyrics:

Rambling all over this Promised Land,
Seeking a helping hand.
Trying to keep my head from sinking into the sand.
'Cause there is too much on my mind,
And it makes me keep on wondering why...
So won't you let me go back to my muddy lake tonight?

See the rich men's names on the skyscrapers,
And the poor boys down on the corner.
Their food can't fill their mouths and their clothes don't suit the weather.
You will be busted if you don't do right,
Put into jail for the rest of your life.
So won't you let me go back to my muddy lake tonight?

Oh the city is burning and the bright lights make me blind.
So won't you let me go back to my muddy lake tonight?

I can hear the wolves at the midnight howl,
See the vultures going round and round.
Must be some way to get out but i just don't know to how.
No one taught me how to fight,
In this world where everything will bite.
So won't you let me go back to my muddy lake tonight?

Oh the city is burning and the bright lights make me blind.
So won't you let me go back to my muddy lake tonight?

Oh the city is burning and I can't tell wrong from right!
So won't you let me go back to my muddy lake...
I said I’d rather go back to the muddy lake tonight.

© 2007 Liu Yusi
Track Name: Tout Va Bien
Lyrics:

Well, we met in a Francophile joint
And, speakin frank, we made a point
Of seein dawn’s first rays
Break through your bedroom window

By light of morn I very nearly flipped
To see you had yourself a cowboy script
I said, “Okay, elle, eh,
Today’s a lovin fais do-do!”

Tout va bien, it’s all bien again
Ma cherie, just let it be all Poetry and Zen
Groupon-nous, et demain, Mamma just say when
We’ll rendezvous every now and then
Tout va bien

Now you ask if I still ride the wave
And you wonder if I can behave
Or if whiskey’s got a grip
On my ol’ country soul

I’ll just tell you what I know today,
Listen, Mamma, s’il vous plait:
You’ve inspired this here
Francophile rock and roll

Tout va bien, it’s all bien again
Ma cherie, just let it be all Poetry and Zen
Groupon-nous, et demain, Mamma just say when
We’ll rendezvous every now and then
Tout va bien

© 2012 Rustbowl Refugee Music