THE SWAMP DOCTOR is the stage name of London based singer-songwriter Joe Brack, an artist with a poet’s heart and a warm, intelligent persona to match.

 

Brack has spent his entire life immersed in music, taking his cues from the intricate wordplay of Paul Simon and the brash energy of rock and punk in his early days and began playing in a variety of bands when he went off to school.

 

He later became a staple of West London’s legendary pub scene in the 90’s and 00’s where he solidified his skills and became an in demand performer.  A chance meeting with Silver Fox Records CEO James D Ingram led to the production of his first Album “The Swamp Doctor,” in which Brack’s enigmatic songwriting found a worthy collaborator in German producer Sascha Panknin.  Together with James they created an album that explores urban life, romance, and family nostalgia, all tied together by Brack’s lovingly crafted lyrics. 

 

His debut album “The Swamp Doctor” will be officially released in 2020, introducing the world to a truly one-of-a-kind talent.

DEBUT ALBUM

"THE SWAMP DOCTOR"

LISTEN AND DOWNLOAD

BUY THE CD

BUY IT ON VINYL

Featuring the bonus track "Smokin Chicken Joe's"

Format: CD

£9.99

+ £2.50 P&P

Format: VINYL

£19.99

+ £4.50 P&P

CREDITS

WRITERS

 

  1. Hustle Going On (Joe Brack)

  2. One Way Ticket (Joe Brack)

  3. Real Food  (Joe Brack)

  4. Perfect Sleep (Joe Brack & Jeb Loy Nichols)

  5. Lost Biker Soul (Joe Brack)

  6. Deep Blue Winter Sunshine (Joe Brack)

  7. Laura Mae (Joe Brack)

  8. Eva Maria Latina (Joe Brack)

  9. Oh Jesus (James D Ingram)

  10. Goodbye to Nashville (Joe Brack & Jeb Loy Nichols)

  11. Vinyl bonus track: Smokin Chicken Joe's (Joe Brack)
     

PLAYERS

The Swamp Doctor: Vocals and Guitar

Alex Maclaine: Vocals

Sascha Panknin: Bass, Drums, Keyboard and FX

James D Ingram: Vocals and Acoustic Guitar

Paul Bangash: Lead Guitar

Hugo Martin: Lead and Rhythm Guitar

Rob Taggart: Piano / Keys

Quentin Collins: Horns

PRODUCTION

 

Produced by Sascha Panknin & James D Ingram

Executive Producer James D Ingram

 

Recorded at Sion Park Studios, London and Buspace Studios, London (thanks to Hugo Martin)

 

Mastered at FAT AS FUNK 

VIDEOS

 

Goodbye To Nashville: Silver Fox Records

IMAGES

 

Images by Pauline Lord Photographs and James D Ingram

LYRICS

HUSTLE GOING ON

I love city songs and 70s funk. This combines the two, contrasting the wealth and opulence of London with working people, street life, and finding common ground: Everybody‘s Got a Hustle Goin‘ On. Chris Hedges speech at the end sums up where we are going and the state of the world today, especially in our cities.

Busy in the city, peoples’ working lives so hard.

Marble halls of finance to the down town ghetto yard

 

Everybody’s got a hustle going on.

Everybody’s got a hustle going on

 

Takes a cold, cold heart, turn way from the call

De-lux consumption to the backstreet market stall

 

Everybody’s got a hustle going on

Everybody’s got a hustle going on

 

Heat’s on the city, people living life so hard

Back street money changers to the Wall Street house of cards

 

Everybody’s got a hustle going on

Everybody’s got a hustle going on

Everybody’s got a hustle going on

Everybody’s got a hustle, baby

 

Everybody’s got a hustle going on

Everybody’s got a hustle going on

ONE WAY TICKET 

 

A funky take based on a guitar riff I had for ages and tried with the least words possible to flesh out another tale of escape and flight from crazy city living. A popular theme of the Swamp Doctor over the years.

I got a one way ticket, out of town

I got a one way ticket, out of town

I got that one way ticket, out of town. I got a one way ticket, uh, ha, huh

 

I got a midnight flyer, through the clouds

I got a midnight flyer, right through the clouds

I got that one way ticket, out of town. I got a one way ticket, uh, ha, huh

 

Someone I relied on, let me down

Someone I relied on, gone let me down

I got that one way ticket, out of town. I got a one way ticket, uh, ha, huh

 

I got a one way ticket, baby

I got a one way ticket, baby

I got a one way ticket, baby

Out of town

I got a one way ticke

I got a midnight flyer, out of town

 

I got that one way ticket, out of town. I got a one way ticket, uh, ha, huh

I got that one way ticket, out of town. I got a one way ticket, uh, ha, huh

I got that one way ticket, out of town. I got a one way ticket, uh, ha, huh

REAL FOOD 

Apologies to vegetarians and vegans, this is a celebration of out door meat-eating at its finest. Popular with the Atkins diet crowd and carnivores in general, hopefully inspiring the listener to get home and break out the BBQ.

Real food is thrown into a fifty gallon drum

Real food is a ham hock stewed for three days ‘till it’s done

Real food is battered, floured, and covered with two to three coats

Real food is dropped in hot oil ‘till it floats

 

Real food, mmm, mmm, mmm

Real food, mmm, mmm, mmm

Alligator on a stick, I can’t get enough of it

Suckling pig on a spit, I can’t get enough of it

Real food, mmm, mmm, mmm

 

Real food is pulled from a slab, doused in hot sauce and left to roast

Real food is a sweet barbeque shoved between two slices of white toast

Real food is served with a bib, mmm

Real food will sure get you fat if you eat enough of it

 

Real food, mmm, mmm, mmm

Real food, mmm, mmm, mmm

Don’t get yourself excited, you know you’re not invited

Don’t get yourself in a panic, you know it’s strictly organic

 

Real food, mmm, mmm, mmm

Real food, mmm, mmm, mmm

PERFECT SLEEP 

 

This started when my girlfriend nudged me awake one morning complaining she had a 20 minute conversation with me last night, before she realised I was still asleep. My comment: Don’t wake me, baby, it was a perfect sleep. I had most of the verses and Jeb came in and sorted out the chorus.  Like a protest song for sleep with a sixties feel and a vocal nod to Buddy Holly and the Crickets on the last chorus.

All we are is what we try, over and over, to justify. A secret’s not a secret when everybody knows

You can pick through a million lives and never have one of your own

 

How do you know, you’re in too deep. I’m ready to roll, don’t wake me from a perfect sleep

Don’t wake me, baby, it’s a perfect sleep

 

Do you remember when you were in school. A monkey turns to man, a man turns into a fool

What does it matter whatever you believe, ain't gonna change this world, sure ain't gonna change me

 

How do you know, you’re in too deep. Let this dog lie, don’t wake me from a perfect sleep

Don’t wake me, baby, it’s a perfect sleep

 

Flying high above the city lights at night, running naked through a field of flowers as the sun’s shining bright

Making love to all the pretty Hollywood girls, driving a Fleetwood, flying around the world

 

Sitting on the train on the way to work, everybody’s on the phone doing the on-line jerk

She don’t want to touch me, she would rather touch her phone

Hey, twitteratti, up your arsi, you know who I mean

 

How do you know, you’re in too deep. Let this dog lie, don’t wake me from a perfect sleep

Don’t wake me, baby, it’s a perfect sleep

Don’t wake me, baby. Don’t wake me, baby. Don’t wake me, baby

LOST BIKER SOUL

A big fan of Dennis Hopper, I love biography songs and his life was a great inspiration. Mad Dog of Dodge City Kansas was the original Lost Biker Soul. Combined with a hard beat and fantastic lead guitar from Paul Bangash I wanted to capture the on-the-road rock n roll biker experience.

Call me Mad Dog of Dodge City, Kansas, grew up on grandma’s farm

I was drinking gasoline outa grandpa’s truck, doing myself harm

I went too far with a baseball bat, smashed up on grandpa’s ride

I was running Mescal and cigarettes before they caught my hide

I teamed up with a bunch of hippies to make a movie on the road

I never saw it coming for my lost biker soul

 

O my lost biker soul, keep on running, ride down the road

I never saw it coming, O my lost biker soul

He never, ever saw it coming, O my lost biker soul

 

Call me Mad Dog of Dodge City, Kansas, blurring fiction with fact

Angels in white dresses, a lost prophet dressed in black

Fragmentation and chaos, it’s a world I got to know

A bizarre camera of madness in a funky freak-out show

I teamed up with a bunch of hippies to make a movie on the road

I never saw it coming for my lost biker soul

 

O my lost biker soul, keep on running, ride down the road

I never saw it coming, O my lost biker soul

He never, ever saw it coming, O my lost biker soul

He never, ever saw it coming, O my lost biker soul

He never, ever saw it coming, O my lost biker soul

DEEP BLUE WINTER SUNSHINE

 

When it’s a sunny London winter the lonely seek escape and peace of mind elsewhere. A ballad for the heartbroken but undefeated, with thanks to Paul Simon for setting the standard for heartbreak ballads and inspiring the piano part.

Feeling something different, could it be loneliness and fear

Memories of distinction, watching love and happiness just disappear

I understand what you’re saying, woeful words I don’t need to hear

Standing all alone in this town as the storm clouds they gather around

Now I take a journey, just to find a little peace of mind

 Look back less in anger more in sorrow at these heartbreaking times

 

High above the mountain, over open water, across the land that bore me

Deep blue winter sunshine take me anywhere but here

Deep blue winter sunshine take me anywhere from here

 

Seeing something special, little things that give such meaning to life

Unspoken rules of loving, you won’t ever find them written down

How can you hold that expression, I surely know the answer by now

Walk alone as the West wind’s blowing, as I make my way around this town

 

High above the mountain, over open water, across the land that bore me

Deep blue winter sunshine take me anywhere but here

Deep blue winter sunshine take me anywhere from here

 

I could have given you most everything, all the things a good man should

It’s just a reckless, feckless love, and now I want to disappear

High above the mountain, over open water, across the land that bore me

Deep blue winter sunshine take me anywhere but here

Deep blue winter sunshine take me anywhere distant from here

Deep blue winter sunshine take me anywhere

LAURA MAE

I wrote this song for Larry Jon Wilson‘s last album on EMI but he had already written Whore Trilogy and had songs from Willie Nelson and Bob Dylan.  So no luck with that, then. I did not forget Laura Mae and the story of lost opportunity and despair still resonates. As the sun sets over Mother Earth seems more urgent and pertinent today.

Laura Mae was pretty some years ago, when she was young

Lines etched upon her face testify to better days now gone

Lipstick and rouge play their part in the daily war against the ravages of time

Younger girls who ply their trade believe she is brave to carry on

 

Laura Mae grows weary of her life today, drifting to oblivion, as the skies are turning grey

Every day seems a little worse than yesterday...

As the sun sets over Mother Earth, the lights are going out, Laura Mae

 

Her education was interrupted due to circumstances beyond her control

She could have been most anything, had a job, fall in love, and been happy to grow old

Broken down on the edge of town she gazes wistfully outside

Due to a lack of demand, I understand, her services are no longer required

 

Laura Mae grows weary of the world today, drifting to oblivion, as the skies are turning grey

Every day seems a little worse than yesterday...

As the sun sets over Mother Earth, the lights are going out, Laura Mae

 

Laura Mae, she don't care what the people say

Come what may, gonna do things her own way

 

Laura Mae grows weary of her life today, drinking to oblivion, as the skies are turning grey

Every day seems a little worse than yesterday...

As the sun sets over Mother Earth, the lights are going out, Laura Mae

EVA MARIA 

 

Inspired by the 1990s true story of the good people of Caldwell, Texas who buried a Jane Doe found dead under a bridge and named her Eva Maria, like the Saint.  I wanted to sing in Spanish to honour Eva‘s Latina origins and support those immigrants still suffering today. The arrangement took some time before Quentin‘s trumpet lifts the whole song to a higher level, a prayer for her immortal soul.

They found her under a bridge, near the Caldwell/Guadalupe county line express

Turquoise ring upon her finger and a floral patterned dress

The townsfolk call her Eva, Eva Maria, like the saint

Not just a forgotten body, a county dollar to be spent

 

They called her Eva, Eva Maria, like the saint

Dark hair and green eyes, an unfinished picture left to paint

They called her Eva, Eva Maria, like the saint

Dark hair and green eyes, an unfinished picture left to paint

 

For months it’s just a story, a blurb on the radio

Missed by no one special, a murder mystery to be solved

In this day and age we live in, where kindness is seldom shown

The good of Caldwell pray for Eva and her immortal soul

 

They called her Eva, Eva Maria, like the saint

Dark hair and green eyes, an unfinished picture left to paint

They called her Eva, Eva Maria, like the saint

Dark hair and green eyes, an unfinished picture left to paint

 

They called her Eva, Eva Maria, like the saint

Dark hair and green eyes, an unfinished picture left to paint

They called her Eva, Eva Maria

OH JESUS 

 

I love the darkness and mood of this James D Ingram song. With a stripped down sound and great backing vocals I feel transported to another world, another time, another life.

Oh, Jesus, what have I done. You carry me to heaven, I’m coming with my gun

Oh, Jesus, Jesus, what can I say, I broke your heart, I’m on my knees to pray

 

Oh, oh, oh, Hallelujah. Oh, oh, Hallelujah

 

Oh Jesus you took her away, all my faith and dreams died another day

Oh Jesus Jesus what can I do, you carry me to heaven I’m coming after you

 

Oh, oh, oh, Hallelujah. Oh, oh, Hallelujah

 

And I have travelled far from my home

But you’re the constant that keeps me from the storm

And I have fallen far from God’s good grace

Time for my redemption, pay for my mistakes

 

Oh, Jesus, what have I done. You carry me to heaven, I’m coming with my gun

Oh, Jesus, Jesus, what can I say, I broke your heart, I’m on my knees to pray

 

Oh, oh, oh, Hallelujah. Oh, oh, Hallelujah

Oh, oh, oh, Hallelujah. Oh, oh, Hallelujah

 

Oh, Jesus, Oh Jesus Jesus, Oh Jesus What have I done

GOODBYE TO NASHVILLE 

 

Written quickly with Jeb Loy Nichols, after the Nashville/cash-ville line the rest followed easily. I take most of the blame for beer references while Jeb is great at the trash talk lines. Jeb had left Capitol Records and I think was feeling a bit raw at the whole music business, which informs the mood. I hope the intent is not misunderstood. I love Nashville and by the end it‘s clear that it‘s not you, Nashville, it‘s me. With a traditional arrangement and a sing-along chorus it has a certain joy in misfortune.

Pass round the hat, boys, one last time

I’ll sing you my hits, girls, for your nickels and dimes

I came here with nothing, I go the same way

Pass round the hat boys, I’m leaving today

 

Goodbye to Nashville. They took all my cash-ville

Cold beer’s my last meal, bye, bye, Nashville

Good bye to Nashville, I’m leaving at last-ville

Cold hearts that can’t feel, bye, bye, Nashville

 

May I play you a song, Sir, said that so many times

The words and the music, the tears they’re all mine

I lived every heartache, white lies people say

May I sing you a song, Sir, then I’ll be on my way

 

Goodbye to Nashville. I’m leaving at last-ville

Go burn and crash-ville, go kiss my ass-ville

Good bye to Nashville, put out the trash-ville

Cold beer’s my last meal, bye, bye, Nashville

 

May I play you a song, Sir, one last time

I’ll sing you my hits, girls, for your nickels and dimes

I came here with false hope, I go the same way

Pass round the hat boys, then I’ll be on my way

SMOKIN' CHICKEN JOE'S (Vinyl bonus track)

I always dreamt of running a chicken shack in Texas, copying mama's home cooked fried chicken recipe.  The next best thing is a theme song celebrating her work and my love of food and coffee.

Past a hand pump gas stop, Driftwood in Texas

Got an eats called Smokin' Chicken Joe's 

I took a road north and south, when I'm hungry

Well, it's back to that chicken shack I go

 

Hey Joe, hit me with a coffee, something is cooking on your stove

It reminds me of Mama doing her own thing

It's mighty fine to dine at Smokin' Chicken Joe's

It's mighty fine to dine at Smokin' Chicken Joe's

 

Gimme some leg, wing, a little bit of thigh

Hey, Joe, that's the whole Goddamn bird!

Sure, with grits, corn mash, a little bit of gravy

And the best sweet potato I ever had.

Hey Joe, hit me with a coffee, something is cooking on your stove

It reminds me of Mama doing her own thing,

It's mighty fine to dine at Smokin' Chicken Joe's

It's mighty fine to dine at Smokin' Chicken Joe's

Past a hand pump gas stop, Driftwood in Texas

Got an eats called Smokin' Chicken Joe's 

I took a road north and south, when I'm hungry

It's back to that chicken shack I go

Hey Joe, hit me with a coffee, something is cooking on your stove

It reminds me of Mama doing her own thing

It's mighty fine to dine at Smokin' Chicken Joe's

It's mighty fine to dine at Smokin' Chicken Joe's

It's mighty fine to dine at Smokin' Chicken Joe's

It's mighty fine to dine at Smokin' Chicken Joe's

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