David Serby » 2014 » August

Dirt Beneath My Nails

As I mentioned last week, I’m putting together songs for a new record.

I’ve got a gig this coming week (Suzanne O’Keefe’s Honkytonk Hacienda at El Cid in Los Angeles, CA) and The Latest Scam (Edward Tree, Greg Boaz and Jim Doyle filling in for Dale Daniel) and I are going to play 12 of the new tunes, so, if you’re interested in hearing what we’re working on, I hope you can make the show.

In the meantime, I’m introducing you to some of my older music in the hope that you might purchase/download a song (only $.99!) or an entire album of music to help me finance a new record.

If you drive around Los Angeles (probably any big city in the United States) you’ll eventually pass U-Haul rental locations, giant storage facilities, and home improvement stores. In front of those locations you’ll likely see a pack of hungry men hoping to be hired to perform some sort of manual labor.

In 2006 when I was writing the songs that would eventually end up on my first record (I Just Don’t Go Home) I passed a group of these men while I was driving to Billy Block’s Western Beat (a singer/songwriter hangout on Highland in Los Angeles).

I started thinking about these men and when I finally arrived at Western Beat I sat at the bar, ordered a beer, and scribbled the lyric for “Dirt Beneath My Nails” on napkins while listening to open mic singers.

You can hear a snippet of the song and purchase it at CD Music Baby:

CD Baby Music

Song: Dirt Beneath My Nails
Album: I Just Don’t Go Home

Standing on the corner before the sun comes up
With a dozen other hungry guys waiting on a truck
At home she heats a bottle on the kitchen stove
In an hour I’ll be picking fruit in an orange grove

If dirt beneath my nails was diamonds
If sweat upon my brow was gold
If dust on my boots was silver
If there was treasure in the bottom of this hole
I’d buy a rattle for my baby
A brand new dress for Abigail
But all I have is dust
Sweat, love, and lust
And there ain’t no diamonds in the dirt beneath my nails

We’ll jump from this flatbed they’ll hand up burlap sacks
We’ll work until the sun goes down tonight they’ll drive us back
I’ll stand below our window watch her silhouette
As she’s singing to our baby swinging in that bassinet

If dirt beneath my nails was diamonds…


Starting a New Record with Old Records…

I’ve been writing like a possessed madman recently and I’m about to start working on a new electric honky tonk record. The Latest Scam (Edward Tree, Gregory Boaz, and Dale Daniel) sounds great playing the songs and we’ll slowly be working them into our sets as I book more gigs to get us ready to record. I hope some of you make it out to the shows and let us know what you think of the tunes.

I don’t do kickstarter campaigns or fund my records through crowd sourcing. I pay for them myself. So, I won’t ask you for dough up front. But…I have made five prior records that are sitting on the shelf and can be purchase or downloaded.

If you like the music I’ve made, and want to support me as I try to make some more, it would be a huge help if you could purchase a song (only $.99!!) or an album by following the link to my page at CD Baby Music.

I’m going to use this space to highlight a song or album every couple of days. I’ll include a line or two about the song, and the lyrics. This is something I’ve never done before, and I hope you enjoy and appreciate it. Here you go…

Song: I Just Don’t Go Home
Album: I Just Don’t Go Home

“I Just Don’t Go Home” is the title track off my first record. Esteemed music critic Chris Morris put the record on his 2006 Year End Top Ten List in Los Angeles City Beat Magazine along with records by Tom Waits, Los Lobos, and a Beatles reissue.

I wrote the song about a time in my life when I was so far down over a broken relationship that I’d rather spend 24 hours a day at a dead-end job that I hated than go home to an empty house full of sad echoes.

You can listen to listen to a clip and purchase the song (or the entire record) at CD Baby Music:

CD Baby Music


I Just Don’t Go Home

I should drag the door down, kill the neon lights
Count up all the money, head home for the night
But here I’ve got a sofa, and a candy bar machine
Day or night you’ll find me pumping gasoline

Ever since you left I just don’t go home
The California King’s too big for one man all alone
I don’t pick up the mail the grass is overgrown
Ever since you left I just don’t go home

I’m patching up a flat on a silver Greyhound bus
The folks there in the window look a lot like us
Some of them are sleeping, some are wide awake
But they’ve each packed their bags with nothing but mistakes

Ever since you left I just don’t go home…

I’m sitting in the dark on a wooden orange crate
Truckers rumble past me down that interstate
I might just stick my thumb out try to catch a ride
I hear you’re at your momma’s out in Riverside

Ever since you left I just don’t go home…