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Columbia Recording Artist "John Goodblood & The Vultures" presents "Cabaret Blues". This EP was recorded live in the studio by six disturbed musicians. Anyone who thinks life as an artist is easy is clearly mistaken and should hear this record to verify it.

El artista del sello Columbia "John Goodblood & The Vultures" presenta "Cabaret Blues". Este EP fue grabado en vivo en el estudio por seis músicos perturbados. Cualquiera que piense que la vida como artista es fácil esta claramente equivocado y debería escuchar este disco para verificarlo.


released November 3, 2014

All songs written by John Goodblood.

Violin: Luka "The Gypsy" Ozols.
Drums: Iván "Félix" Tapia.
Bass guitar: Max "The Rev" Turco.
Saxophone: Lucas "Fly High" Oyola.
Electric guitar and acoustic slide guitar: Martín "Mercyful" Pineda.
Dobro guitar, banjo and vocals: John Goodblood.

Recorded and mixed by Dylan Lerner at Baumann Studios.
Mastered by Pablo Bursztyn.

John Goodblood would like to thank the following people:
Martín Pineda, Lucas Ozols, Maximiliano Turco, Iván Tapia, Lucas Oyola, Dylan Lerner, Pablo Bursztyn, Francisco Muschietti, Ricardo Tapia, Axel Mark Gotlieb, Tadeo Kvitka, Gloria Sanmiguel, Ivana Segal, Santiago Nasr, Jorge Nasr, Baumann Studios, Salas Sonora, Espacio Apa, Spike Spiægel, Gastón Ibarroule, Franco Méndez, Alfredo Pinzón, Victoria Pomerantz, Julia D'Alotto, Bob Dylan, Robert Johnson, CFK, KFC, JFK, Louis CK, Columbia Records and Cabildo/Juramento.



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John Goodblood Buenos Aires, Argentina

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Track Name: Cabaret Blues
It's been 9 days and 8 too many nights.
Paint on my face and give me to the lights.

Gone to the gutter to sell them some dreams.
You hear his mutter cooking up a new scheme.

Kid, you're headed to the top.
You could sing or grab a mop.

Monkey see. Monkey do.
I'd rather turn it around and play that monkey for you.

Prostitute musicians.
Pimps dressed up as politicians.

You live in this pornography.
Diploma in photography.
Never through with paying your fee.
Somebody asked just who am I supposed to be?

Ladies and Germs! May I present? On stage this very night.
A man who burns representing all you parasites.

Ain't no sindicate. Ain't no trial.
The rights I vindicate they seem so vile.

In this gallery of fakes.
You got no clue how much they make.

Cockroach on my shoe.
I'll climb on your head and be the one to step on you.

Hands like a magician.
My pockets picked by your precission.

A satellite bureaucracy.
A hipster aristocracy.
Nobody ever said you were free.
Quit asking "Who am I supposed to be?"
Track Name: Miss Guide
Once was a clown on medicine who kept his crying eyes inside a gown.
I longed them like amphetamines. The skin was buried by a pack of hounds.
She ran to the infirmary to find I’d stolen every needle there.
If love’s the cure, my memories would surely be a dying bed to bear.

Rust lays on the ceiling, snowed upon covered for its shame.
Behind the house she’s dealing. A gypsy selling postcards for the pain.
I’m right below the deck above the iciest of seas.
The diamond floor was by the wreck. I’ve walked upon since I felt her breeze.

Her blue magnetic silence paints the house a white so very pale.
The roses. The violins. The mercury and all she has for sale.
Her afternoon of melody had stripped all of the coffins from their nails.
Miss. Guide with her sincerity lights fires in the windiest of hails.
Track Name: Doppelganger
Got me down on my knees since you cut off my feet.
I might catch some disease as you drag me down bourbon street.

A cat’s got nine lives. Honey I wish I had two.
I must have been crazy. How did I ever fall in love with you?
The tide is breaking. Waves of blood on the shore.
This sand I wake in is a place of war.

You lost the battle. Can’t you see? Your skins a dead blue.
Well, I must have been crazy. How did I ever fall in love with you?

Tempted lady tried to gun down my shadow with a ghost’s 44’.
Left a hole in the crazed desperado. Then poured some salt on the sore.

You done with these crimes. Playing God that spits on my shoe.
I must have been crazy. How did I ever fall in love with you?

Leeches in my backbone trying to get a hold.
Through the wind you hear my groan. Cooking the mud in the cold.
Some crows fly past my view. Looks like I got some work to do.
Woman you’re crazy. How did I ever fall in love with you?
Track Name: Two Dollar Bill
Water for the poor. Ether for the rich.
Caviar inside a stew that's cooking in a ditch.
The bottle was recycled. The baby's cardboard crib.
As man moves through his cycles. "The lobster eating bib"
The world turns on it's head.
Then leaves you hanging by a thread.
Bathing in the wine. Coffin as a bed.
Shooting pool and dining fine with murder as your bread.
Powdering the rifle with a rope around my head.
You hang all those disciples. Leaving them off for dead.
The blood stains on your dress come from the city gutter.
When In vain, take a guess. Man trying to make a dollar
At being a mess.
Judge up on the hill. Spitting from a screen.
Eyes to hate and mouth to kill in your synthetic dream.
Low profile in a spotlight. The Muslim loving Nun.
You're certified and notified by sheep all around that sun.
How can truth ever reign with people so deceptive?
In their booths by the chain. Deaf dumb and blind detective.
You can't seem to define. What it is you're really longing.
You just stream in the line. Don't think that you're belonging.
Don't You Bill?
Honey for the rat. Poison for the snake.
Dried up tongue before the cat done left me here to ache.
The people stare and mock me when I'm dancing with a ghost.
I'd like to see them stop me.
Who's the leech? And who is the host?
Your hands tied to the key that unlock all or nothing.
You can't swim in this sea. The sharks can tell you're bluffing.
They'll go in for the kill before you touch the water.
So you run to the mill. Don't think you'll dare to bother.
Don't You BIll?