Saturday, December 11, 2010



Visions of Saints rowing home in the sand

The placid wind screen

Six trumpets in the band

Your skin so soft lift the petals of your silk

All over your lips the taste of malted milk

The stars are burning bright

The autumn leaves are brown

The night forever hangs

I’m listening for the sound

Hustling with a woman in the alley on the ground

Shuffling to the rhythm on the dirty side of town.

I live the free life the American way

Smoke in bars on sacred holidays

Get drunk on the weekend and leave my car and walk home

Wander sleazy highways and I walk ‘em alone

I hang out in diners in Motel 6

A junkie for a bar whore make a quick fix

She smells like cigarettes and alcohol

Crawl like a sapphire dog ‘til I’m ten feet tall.

Hanging out in the pool hall hustle a few drinks

I’m high and I’m tired push indulgence to the brink

I’m Marti Eden” a poet with the blues

Getting off on desolation , religious solitude

I see every sin clear on the internet line

Someone knows your whole life

Someone else knows mine

I gotta dance honey to that September beat

Sweet sensation nipping at the heels of my feet.

There’s a river on the highway

The cheats are rowing home

On the raft of false promise sittin’ on a throne

I hear the magnolia bloom

Violent winds attack

Someone stole my sainthood

And now I want it back.

I know how he must’ve felt

St. Christopher

Tarnished as a saint

Left only with revenge.



- FROM THE BOOK - Michael Ubaldini-'LOST AMERICAN NIGHTS-Lyrics& Poems - Moon tide press

Monday, November 1, 2010



Words & Music by Michael Ubaldini- copyright 2000



I saw chariots of fire burn into the great unknown

I saw a groom at the altar standing all alone

I saw a red, white and blue

Down in the river of blood

I saw diseased rats devour what was left of love

The false prophet spoke, from his lips

Sugar dripped sweet

The Arch Angel walked over the dead bodies in the street.

The false prophet came, they put a crown on his

Head, the crown wasn’t made of thorns.

This was gold instead

They sent a limo to the airport

From the podium he spoke

All races believed what he said, blinded by rose colored

Smoke, the false prophet spoke

The governments were on his side

The Arch angel had to cut the rope of those hung

Before they were tried.

I don’t wanna see visions, they’re making me insane

Pictures flashing in my mind, eating up my brain

Polaroid’s of life left to drown out at sea

Killers clothed with the robe of democracy

The President of the company

Sat back and grinned in the office chair.

The Arch Angel played a Gibson guitar but they

Couldn’t find him anywhere

The false prophet came and gave flowers to the

Children. He was workin’ on their innocence

Like a master surgeon

All the women loved him for he came in peace

The rich and the poor and the homeless in the street.

They celebrated with party’s and great global parades. The Arch Angel sharpened his sword

Smiled and sipped his lemonade.

I heard a church bell tower ringing loud

The media came, it drew a huge crowd.

The false prophet was smiling he wore a golden robe,

He was challenged to a fight on the side of the road.

Plagues they came, spewed up from the earth,

The I.R.S. claimed pay per view and the

Possessions left of worth.

I saw the beloved prophet take off his mask

He drank dollars and cents from an engraved

Whiskey flask. He fooled all the rebels cause he

knew that tattoos were in. They all had his name

Tattooed on their skin.

Heartbroken they cried, as they heard the

Undertakers bell, they drank milk from the bowls

Of contaminated wells.

Then I saw a clash in the walls of the sky

Bloodshed and great ships. Three headed pirates

with patches on their eyes

The world was face down in a grave with nowhere to run;

I saw a battle that RAGED, then took away the sun.

The Arch Angel stood tall. The referee raised his hand. The false prophet took the fall. But with him he took

The souls of fellow man

Welcome to Global America

The globalization of America

If history repeats itself my friend,

Rome will fall again.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Sunday, October 17, 2010


People are all plugged in, Have ya noticed?
people with wires stickin' out of their wax filled ears, Text here Text there..
Earphone pieces talking loudly so you can hear em'

People in a hurry to go nowhere..
Dear reader I write this out of love not cynicism,
cause cynics see the bad in anything & miss the beauty in everything

No creativity anywhere..
Free Country.. But can you really call that freedom being plugged in?
I mean yeah it can be good to plug in
but your feet better be dry...
Everyone's feet look wet to me
just wading in the typhoon that's about to hit hard..

Don't Know..Don't matter

How do ya pick up your next date?
Dates are a drag with a chaperon The machine...All those songs on a little box..
Fast food can give ya heartburn..
Two people at a table together yet on a phone or playing some game or texting....why not converse with each other?
..Be bold
Talk ..its kind of something new to try...

naw fer git it man...

ya may stumble on an idea
You may have to help you friend up when he falls...My My all that human touch...
Mercy!! (thanks Roy)
that could throw everything off.. I mean how can one survive with that human contact and exchange of ideas after all?!

Deaden your mind to all that surrounds you and see nothing,
or open em' and see it all for what it is...
I used to dig sheep when they were in a pack doing nothing cept'
grass but now the sheep have kicked Little Bo Peep in the kisser...
she didn't notice cause she was to busy watching every ones life on twitter
she didn.t even know she lost em'
The Big bad wolf didn't eat em on principle...
He just went and played poker with The three little pigs at a speak easy owned by grandma
he took red riding hood as his date... they were all fed up with it
besides when its all over they have a place to live..The house made of bricks by piggie number three..

Mother goose didn't lay an egg she just took a dump...
And it smells like what robots humans have become....
locked minds
bolted spirits,
the key to nothing
Even the Three blind mice hangin out with Winkin Blikin & Nod can understand that...
They told us so
I know its true someone posted it on Facebook...gotta be ...I mean honest to golly jeepers creepers ..everyone got peepers...and they are watching me and you boogalooo.

That is the fast food we are gettin' served..Dylan wrote the Times are a Changin
Boy didn't they though?
The Pistols sang "No Future"
boy was Johnny right on the mark...
Dylan also sang "ya Gotta serve somebody"
(cept people -the fools- don't believe in God today...... after all
TV reality has shown humans that THEY are God... they would rather not "Serve yourself' As John Lennon parodied but.. more like "Serve themselves up!
Boy oh boy!!!...

that is the 'wrong em Boyo' Joe Strummer!
ya hit the nail on the head there.. Stagger Lee(Or Stackolee depends on which era we are talkin' of) even gave Bill Lyons his Stetson back it would seem...

B-B-B-Billy Bibbit is a stuttering' somewhere...
Nurse Ratcehd is in control.. and I believe running for a 2nd term
The Twilight Zone taught us about the phrase to "How Serve man"...
you remember?... "Its a cook book"
And our goose is being deep fried with Technology of machines and political crap correctness...
better sprinkle some salt on yourself and take a real good bite..
I'm a little afraid so I'm puttin' on the jester hat
I want no part of this Dewey


Smile your on candid camera..
Sports stars private lives
people watch..
Judge like they have on a white wig
They may have a cell phone ear piece but its used like a gavel,
scares the heck outta me..

The in thing now is for people to put each other down,
talk show hosts etc etc..

Lets ruin em cause they have talent
lets ruin em cause they don't
Lets hate em if retires ,
lets hate em' if he comes back,
lets praise he who kills dogs with another chance...but lets spray paint people with a mink coat& call em' needless animal killers...
lets Kill babies in the crib and say "only the good die young"
I say Lets Not..
Lets act intellectual
or lets not
Lets destroy it all..
Are you kidding ?
I say Lets Not..

No Romance without a kiss,
No real music without truth like this
And no fight without a two pairs of Fists..

Tough insults behind a computer protection
false identity
No guts..
I am outta here man
About to slap a Muddy Waters platter in the turntable..

you cant light up a room
The roaches scatter when ya do...
problem is Most of em are all plugged in
But the fuse is short Bulb is dim...

gonna get me a candle
gonna say a prayer cause I believe one day
The meek will win.
And I will ask to be forgiven'
cause I want in.......

Friday, September 24, 2010


Rented Rehearsal Hall,
Lousy PA
Solid State Amp rental
Other bands sounds coming through amp speaker,

Dirty carpets & A Soda machine that don't work..

Throwing together a song list,

Girlfriend calls and says Raccoons are having relations in her driveway

I am Reading my own rights
Lord Byron is floating overhead on a Mountain top of rubble
Darkness is Beautiful with light when Byron Rights it-
Then Writes it.

The Set list we journey down through
Rummage through old time tunes for Licks& Kicks
Hippie Culture tells me The Weather Underground are all upper middle class rich folk
So was Abbie Hoffman... Pete knocked him off the stage in 69 ,
I think that sums it all up.

Back from daydream- Into next song Rustlin' & a singin' into my own microphone
The Others are dented and filled with Gob slobber
Gobbing a way for Punk bands of yesteryear to show their diggin' your band,
I step aside like Fred Astaire and avoid that belief

like a swirlin' top whizzer' from Rock em sock em' sock it to me robots
of past glory

Next number Ray Price tune
Guitars & steel heaven
Blues for the aged flowers cultivated by time
Television reality of phoniness can only mean more lack of privacy

Don't matter
Worlds already solid , the people are already almost blue
And there ain't nuttin' any leader or revolutionary can do
cept' how to
Travel through windows and learn how to walk through roofs
Hooves stampede

Top 100 Beatles songs
Rolling Stone magazine list
Does that magazine even matter anymore?
The covers and pages are filled with Reality stars
One sided Politics

I'm a Bum traveler so I slip away cause
I don't care
Red States- Blue States
I am color Blind
Means nothing To a music Hobo
"Let me introduce my shadow .. Hobo Mike"

Kerouac greets Thomas Wolfe (Not Tom Wolfe) in Shakespeare's driveway

Edgar Allen Poe has just put the stash on the grill
Kafka Morphs into a Rollin' Stone No burgers tonight
Only Ravens well done
Nevermore will they chow food like this again
All I know is Monte Cliff just turned over the canoe
Shelly's a swimmin' & it aint no
Poseidon adventure

Only a place in the sun

Next song A countrified Jean Harlow
Back to reality in our false world

More consumer grab bags

Elmer Fudd is chasing rabbits down on 42nd street and no one
seems to notice all plugged in

Next song to close rehearsal is an all out jam of T for Texas

Tea is for The English
Coffee for The USA
Fashion mags are losing respect for the photo artist
Behind the Who's Magic Bus lurks Johnny Boy from Mean Streets.

He has a pool cue...look out!

Load up the gear and see ya round the pool hall for a Rock N Roll show
that don't exist
As I wonder tonight
where is my sweet baby that I miss?
Rocky Raccoon is set to get an Ass whoopin'
Cause Elmer's Fudd is a comin' Strong as glue and he don't look happy........
Just another ordinary Thought that went through a mind in a flash of a second at Band rehearsal

Goodnight Ladies & Gents
The curtain will rise tomorrow with Vaudevillian romance.

'BAND REHEARSAL BOOGIE& Raccoons Gettin' DOWN!!' copyright M-Ubaldini Library of congress 2010

Thursday, September 23, 2010

'Street Singin' Troubadour'

Michael Ubaldini “Street Singin’ Troubadour“ (Blackwater Records, 2008) -
Review- Americana U.K. Phil Edwards
8 out of 10 stars -10 being best.

Rick Rubin? Who needs him…

Although new to me, Ubaldini has been going a while. Three of his previous albums have been reviewed on this very site, including a compilation album ‘Empty Bottles and Broken Guitar Strings’.

Whilst not being afraid to record some of his previous work with a band, this album is simple; “a stripped down American folk rebel record”. Just him with an acoustic guitar and harmonica.

With no band backing him, Ubaldini needs to rely primarily on his voice and his lyrics. The guitar playing is fairly basic stuff that all singer songwriters can do, so he’s unlikely to win any awards for it, but he has an engaging style.

After the first five listens I was ready to dismiss this album as yet another singer songwriter who has plenty to say, but wasn’t very good at actually saying it. Then things changed. Like that friend you’ve known for years and really got along with, but slowly they grow in your affections and before you know it you’re in a relationship with them and have fallen hook, line and sinker stone in love with them. And it’s all the better for knowing them as individuals first and a lover second.

“Rock’n’roll rebel, poet, philosopher, hopeless romantic, storyteller, guitar slingin’ outlaw in black” have been used in the past to describe Ubaldini. And they’re all right. The Los Angeles Times described him as being “better than Springsteen at probing the national soul”, which is pushing it somewhat. C’mon!

"I've been doing lots of acoustic gigs. This is different from 'Acoustic Rumble'. I wanted to have lyrics that were not about finger pointing. I don't care about blue/red divisions," said Ubaldini. "I write from the point of being an outsider from all these trendy groups. It's straight," he said. "Like early records from Bob Dylan and the late (Rick Rubin-produced) ones from Johnny Cash. It's my answer to all the overproduced, over-compressed records."

And it is. Neil Diamond has tapped into Rubin for his last two albums after he wanted to go back to basics and he’s a better man for it. Ubaldini doesn’t need Rubin. With tracks like ‘Black Emerald Eyes’, ‘A New Set of Problems’, ‘Ballad of Father Patrick’, ‘Sad Empty Streets of Sunday’, ‘The Sound of the Age’ and ‘Mr Terrorist Man’ he’s more than capable of doing it for himself.

Date review added: Thursday, June 05, 2008 Reviewer: Phil Edwards Reviewers Rating:
Related web link: Michael Ubaldini website

Wednesday, September 15, 2010


Written By Michael Ubaldini - from the Album:


copyright- Library of congress 2009)

I was wonderin’ to myself how to achieve world peace

So I turned my ears to the masters, for they were in my reach

The actor was right before me on the TV box

Talkin’ bout his peace group, Being interviewed he talked

He went to acting school I guess that’s how he knows

He’s a very well read man; he knows how to play the role,

He talked of how he traveled and dabbled with the poor

He’s so righteous that’s what he said so I had to hear some more,

He said he wasn’t Racist; we must be color blind,

Then he talked of red & blue states, Drew a dividing line

He put down the corporate world, then I thought I heard him say

He had to catch his limousine so I went on my way,

I came upon a rally protesting some war

A peace protest with slogans Painted on a door

They started smashing windows that’s when I ducked my head,

Someone said the pledge of aligience; they beat him til he was dead

While they were rioting with police I slipped away unseen,

I guess that’s what a peaceful protest truly means,

I was stopped on a side street by a camera man,

He said he was a filmmaker

I said “I understand”

He nodded back and said he filmed Documentaries

He needed a few things,

Questions answered by me,

I asked him for credentials, he smiled and scratched his chin,

He said “No need for any truthful facts I’ll just fill that part in”

I just kept on A strollin’ some students offered me a ride,

They drove a BMW so I climbed on inside

They were all wealthy & Rich they hung out with the poor,

The said” The Poor couldn’t think for themselves so they had to teach them more”

One of em’ asked me point blank have I ever read Marx?

I said “Harpo was my favorite but Groucho had the spark”

He threw me outta his car said I was an imperialist,

I said “I’m an ordinary working stiff –Thank you for the lift”

I decided to go out to the Rock n Roll show,

But I couldn’t find one anywhere,

Business was kind of slow

A Canadian man on a corner was lookin’ pretty old

He rode atop a Golden Calf said “It had a Heart of Gold

I asked him if the world was really free to rock

He said-”Ask the guy on the corner over on the Eastern Block”

On the Eastern block stood a mansion on a hill

With a great big gate made in an ol’ steel mill

The gates they opened up, out came a bearded man,

He looked like a lobbyist with a guitar in his hand,

He put on a poor mans shirt then he began to preach

But the blue collar men and women were no longer in his reach

I could tell he was a Good man

I guess that’s the price of fame,

Intentions start out good but they always end up the same.

I came upon a valley I read all of the signs

So many groups to choose from, so I got in the shortest line

All the organizations were mini countries to themselves

With rules and fees to join

Dividing up hard earned wealth

Somehow progression means regression with a vote

So I sailed out to an Island On an old wartime U-Boat

I wound up on an Island-ran into a wise old man

He wore a derby hat I said “Mr. If ya’ can-teach me how to stop all wars Racism, poverty abound,

Cause people are talkin’ self righteously on podiums I’ve found”

He said “There will never be world peace until the day you die,

I said “Thanks’ he said “you’re welcome”

To world peace I said “goodbye”

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Michael Ubaldini Ramblings From A Roadside Diner: SAWDUST FEST/POETRY READING & 'OUTLAWS OF FOLK MUS...

Michael Ubaldini Ramblings From A Roadside Diner: SAWDUST FEST/POETRY READING & 'OUTLAWS OF FOLK MUS...: "Played the Sawdust Fest today had a great turn out And a solid set of music...Ran into some ol' friends etc...Lots of great people & Artist..."

Michael Ubaldini Ramblings From A Roadside Diner: RECORDING AND FILM SESSION...afterthought Dream......

Michael Ubaldini Ramblings From A Roadside Diner: RECORDING AND FILM SESSION...afterthought Dream......: "FILMED MICHAEL & THE LONESOME PLAYBOYS (My new Bands recording session this last on slot Saturday night... Lots of great fun and ramblin' ..."

Michael Ubaldini Ramblings From A Roadside Diner: SAWDUST FEST/POETRY READING & 'OUTLAWS OF FOLK MUS...

Michael Ubaldini Ramblings From A Roadside Diner: SAWDUST FEST/POETRY READING & 'OUTLAWS OF FOLK MUS...: "Played the Sawdust Fest today had a great turn out And a solid set of music...Ran into some ol' friends etc...Lots of great people & Artist..."


Played the Sawdust Fest today had a great turn out And a solid set of music...Ran into some ol' friends etc...Lots of great people & Artists hangin' out..of course there are are the few pompous ones that linger ..but yer gonna get that.... I let that crumple under my shoes..Had one of the best nights last week At Lee Mallorys Poetry reading feature of Michael Miller ..did set of music and played some music behind Mr Millers Poetry... Plus A great book he has released called 'College town' I recommend.
A moving night and standing ovation to my Set of songs ...a real standing ovation from the heart.. you find out quick in this world who really cares once you've been around the block a few times .

Also my Last 'OUTLAWS OF FOLK MUSIC SERIES' has been the best one so far with AUSTIN LADD ROBERTS & THE FALLEN STARS playing the show with me... MY NEW GROUP MICHAEL& THE LONESOME PLAYBOYS- gearin' up soon for the New record release...TBA...

They know better after all ...Music.. They've played it for years haven't they?

Present your vision in-spite of these types... They know nothing about your soul.. If they think they do...who really cares...Ya Dig?

I have a train to catch..Bout to have coffee with a desolate Rust repairer

Gone man Gone

Monday, July 26, 2010

“Dream Sequence # 3” (BARROOM BRAWL)

I lived when the chips were down
Drank myself to the edge
Dreamin’ and singin’
In the bars
Where the blood can leave you blind
Flowing into your eyes
The taste of salt will hit your lips –

I struggled to stand
Upon my feet
Staggered forth
Down the open street

Written By MIchael Ubaldini taken from the book 'LOST AMERICAN NIGHTS" published Moontide presss
library of congress

Monday, July 19, 2010


The times are bad and music got lost
In the sea of the business man
But that don’t matter cause I’ve found hope
On solid ground in which I stand
Oh Yeah
The sky is beautiful tonight
The stars burn through the windows of light
In your diamond eyes

I drive an old Ford my guitar in the back
On a downtown avenue
I see the souls of forgotten people
Whose dreams never did quite come true
When life’s games,
Life’s roads are all lost
And won’t give
Straight in your soul I get the will to live
In your Diamond eyes

Babe I gotta hold on
I gotta hold on strong
Or I’ll drift away and into a soul searching wind

More then ever now
We gotta hang on to what’s real
For when there’s no one left to feel
We can take it all so lets step on the gun

To 'Outlaws of romance' ........on the run

There’s a lot of things I wish that I could change
Were out here together on our own
I can see corruption
The internets destruction of a world no longer known

They can put a price on life
Desensitize the whole worlds mind
But they can’t kill love and proof lay behind
Your diamond eyes

Oh yeah,
Come on baby let me in
Where the Mystery of Gods world lives in
Your diamond eyes

written by Michael Ubaldini copyright 2002
from the Album Rock N roll Saloon.

Friday, July 16, 2010


The beat of America is

Dead as we know it,

As the rhythm of one foot

Steps after another

Into a Immortal Oblivion of tranquility and lost dreams,


And left with no way home

Written by Michael Ubaldini - taken from the Book 'Lost American Nights'
published Moon tide press
library of congress

Monday, July 12, 2010

RECORDING AND FILM SESSION...afterthought Dream...

FILMED MICHAEL & THE LONESOME PLAYBOYS (My new Bands recording session this last
on slot Saturday night...
Lots of great fun and ramblin' through & my bag full of songs are on the prowl like a hot hot wind blowin' in from West Texas on through Austin TX my old stomping ground...A feel of articulate desolation dust ,where are all the gals with heart and the black & White cinema gas stations and diners used to breathe love ?...Through the hard times that move forward beyond 6 months of Freedom..of being confined in a non moving shell- yet life's struggle that continues- without the Apricot Wind that I love..senses are wired like Fender Tube amp..... I'm sitting in one old coffee shop just outside of Long Beach Ca. right now.. pondering ... Fair weather friends ,Real Friends, and out right ego maniacal damsels wandering into oblivion time capsules of indulgence & lost youth ........ another chapter... +another song... another faded can't live in a memory... Love lives & Memories filmstrip burns on the reel 8mm ...Hey Broken hero's ,Gregory Corso's & Nelson Algren's ..journey on with a Kerouac like rush into a state of mournful bliss & be baptized by the Holy Water that will set you free into the Dark wild moonlight of romance ... relish your 2nd 3rd and maybe even 4th chance....Radio blarin' on the changes his shoes in front of Ass spoiled OC kid mouths Off ...I stare him down & he looks away deep in the darkness of his own fears he yet does not understand...Twain, Bowie,James Dean I sit shoulder shrugged with Greasy hair wonderin' to myself after reading a local paper...Does The World really care?... And dear reader ....are you even aware?..Whatever is happenin' it past ya long ago...except those travlin' William Blake like Hot Rodderz rumblin' to the 'Night Tide Boogie'.....Don't ya know I wish .James Brown wasn't gone... every body has got somethin' to sell ..Themselves..Networkin' ....knee jerkin' each others rusty chains into "Hey Rock Star" ..."No Your A Rock Star"pleasure... recognize your four walls and escape....I'm already gone...Git a long little Doggy Git along Git Along.......

Life Is Beautiful ...even when its full of shit.
...Living never smells more sweet once ya almost lose it ...
Think about it Child.... Live life to the fullest
and let your imagination
run wild....
...............................................By the way The Recording Film Session was stellar....

Written By MICHAEL UBALDINI...Copyright 2010 Library of Congress 2010
may be used only with permission.

Thursday, July 8, 2010


-written by Michael Ubaldini

This is the story people of Jimmie Jones a Musician that couldn't quite cut it. He always had a massive ego & thought himself an undeniable presance.He grew up and was a teenager in the middle 1970's .The kinda guy who played air guitar and listened to Led Zep, & Sabbath but really migrated more towards Prog Rock, Rush etc..
He was aware of Down & Dirty Rock n roll Elvis, Little Richard etc... But somehow tied them in along with Buddy Holly & Chuck Berry with the cartoon 50's parody Sha Na Na–He just was never really hip enough to ‘Get it’. He also hated T-Rex, Lou Reed and Bowie

He smoked a lot of dope & drove a Ford Pinto& worked at a Pup N Taco. His girlfriend ‘RUBY VIOLA’ was a busty Rock Groupie into astrology & who only read Tolkien tales and pretended she lived in the medieval times... Jimmie wore a big feather earring in his left ear..(.cause the right ear meant something' ya didn't want to be back in them Daze)

Anyway Jimmie wore a brown leather suit vest with no shirt & Platform shoes& His long hair feathered back with a part in the middle. He was a little too late for Hippie Generation and was a little bit early for the Punk era .Unfortunately for Jimmie he was living in the time of Jacuzzi Limo California cocaine parties in the Watered down generation of Hotel California with former Laurel Canyon burn outs .

Yet Jimmie inside was secretly looking for that one –“original idea”.

Now don’t get me wrong this Jimmie was a hip guy in his daze... He had the records, he had the Explorer & Flying V guitars & the solid state Marshall half Stack. Heck he had all the pedals that simulated the real equipment... he claimed he dug the Blues (For credibility purposes) but like early rock n roll never really understood it. Somehow the magic of the hard arena rock he loved didn’t transfer from vinyl to his fingers. His band 'Dizzy Bitch' just never got past that 1:00 in the morning slot at the Starwood & besides that scene was now being taken over by The Punk Rock &Rockabilly bands.
Jimmie wound up getting a 9 to 5 job & playing in Top 40 bands after graduating high school on the weekends.

Jimmie wasn’t mad or bitter. After all he had a great job in an office and was making good money. He was really a nice guy but he still had this huge ego to feed. He repeatedly put down to anyone who would listen-‘The Rolling Stones’ saying they were sloppy.He said the same about Keith Moon’s drumming of ‘The Who’ one of the greatest bands ever. His pal & former Dizzy Bitch band mate (Now a real estate sales agent in Toledo Ohio who’s stage name ‘Dan the Zen Master’) said to Jimmie-'Buddy Rich said Keith Moon is the best Rock n Roll Drummer today.-"Jimmie promptly said –“Who is Buddy Rich?” He then turned up his Boston tape in his newly purchased walkman cassette player.

The Decades rolled on. Jimmie now had a couple of kids. His wife& his high school sweetheart now named ‘Ruby Viola Jones’ was always at the gym
.She had numerous ‘Hollywood plastic surgeries’ & drove a BMW. Jimmie was at the top realm of his field in building design. He even bought a Harley to ride on the weekends. He’d rap a bandanna on his head and be Peter Fonda at least for the weekend and on Sunday afternoons stop at a bar in an Orange County canyon to meet several of his lawyer friends all who also bought Harleys. They used to get mad when the real Bikers would come and take their parking spots. (And sometimes their cheating wives)

But what really made him and his top 40 band ‘SLIM CHANCE’ (Now called a cover band) angry was their friend who was an original artist &songwriter.- ‘Judy Diamond’ She lived her whole life for her music. She stayed dedicated since high school & whilst not famous she had a loyal following. But she griped on how she and her band could never get gigs cause of all these cover bands. But they all scoffed at Judy ( And she could be annoying). Jimmie didn’t scoff & he never felt guilty. He always thought Judy was great, &besides she babysat his kids for extra money.

As time went on something strange happened………...

Jimmies cover band wasn’t really getting booked anymore because all these ‘Tribute bands’ were popping up everywhere! ...Some of the real bands that the tribute bands paying tribute to were still touring &playing!.
It made no sense to Jimmie. Heck half of his friends were in them making money and they even thought the audiences packing the clubs were really clapping for & coming to see them.

In fact some started to "Act' like the singers they pretended to be. They (The Tribute bands)made fun of Elvis Presley impersonators... this was the final straw which made Jimmie realize they (all the tribute bands) were nothing more then ELVIS IMPERSNATORS no different. Who cares if it’s Styx, Heart, The Eagles or The Ramones they are tribute banding. ‘Hypocrites’ he thought’..

Then it happened... Jimmie finally got that 'Original idea’ he searched for all his life! He would start& form
‘A Tribute Band to The BEST Tribute Band’ -so if say for instance the best Tribute band was a tribute band of the group ‘Chicago’.. He would start a tribute to the tribute band of Chicago. The band he chose however was a tribute to the Journey tribute band. He called his tribute band to the Journey tribute. ‘Anyway you want it’- A TRIBUTE TO THE JOURNEY TRIBUTE BAND!” but that was confusing since there was a ‘Dave Clark Five’ Song of the same title ’’Anyway you want it.’(Where Journey nicked it of course ) and that started bringing in DC5 fans expecting a DAVE CLARK 5 Tribute band... so Jimmie changed the name to ‘Distance' A Tribute to the Journey Tribute band’. All of a sudden Things started going REALLY well.

It wasn’t’ easy…to be an expert Tribute to a tribute band. First you need to do everything like them –perfect with perfect imperfection.
Of Course they -Jimmies Tribute to a tribute band- had to expertly mock the slightly flat vocals of the tribute group. Some even wore wigs over wigs since some in the Journey tribute band wore wigs to cover their every day work day haircuts. It all must be perfectly imperfect!

The idea was selling tickets! The clubs were calling . Jimmie kept on going.. Why he formed a bunch of ‘Tribute Bands of Tribute bands’.. He monopolized the entire scene with bands like
“LUNG”A tribute to the tribute band for ‘Heart’ (Where Jimmie & Dan the Zen master dressed in full drag…Dan could hit the high notes almost as high as the Ann Wilson impersonator)

A Tribute band to the ROLLING STONES Tribute band became ‘THE FALLING ROCKS’ ‘
A tribute band to the RUSH Tribute band’ became- ‘WHATS YOUR HURRY’
A tribute band to the STYX tribute band Became ‘SAIL AWAY FROM THAT RIVER’’
A tribute band to the U2 tribute band became ‘NOT ME’
A tribute band to the BOSTON tribute band became ‘UTAH’
A tribute band to the EAGLES tribute band became ‘’PARROT’
A tribute band to the GUNS & ROSES tribute band became ‘SQUIRT GUN & TULIPS’
And a tribute band to the JANIS JOPLIN tribute band became LITTLE BROTHER & THE SHIPPING FACTORY’ ‘
The Tribute band to the DOORS Tribute band Became ‘KNOB’
A tribute band to the GRATETFUL DEAD tribute band became ‘UNGRATEFUL LIVING’ and finally
A tribute band to the CREAM tribute band became ‘HALF& HALF” (to keep things politically correct.)

He wanted to form Tributes to the Best BEATLE tribute Band but THE RUTLES were just way too good to try to imitate. He wanted to don Blackface &Be a Tribute band to the SLY & FAMILY STONE TRIBUTE BAND & call it ‘NOT SLICK & THE DISFUNCTIONAL PEBBLE’ but was afraid Inner city Thugs would kick his Ass,
He even formed “One Hit Wonder Tribute bands’ to open up for his Tribute to tribute bands
MEN WITHOUT HATS were. You guessed it ‘Men with Hats
& AHA were ‘UH UH’
They had a 30 minute set where they would play the one Hit song ’over & over again.

Apart from the small lawsuit over his tribute to the ‘Woodstock festival’ where people started showing up dressed up as a yellow birds with white dogs in tow.
JIMMIE was finally a success.!!.

Now as you can imagine…This really Pissed off the Actual Tribute Bands.

They would get together with him and say’ “HEY JIMMIE MAN ..NOT COOL!
We are the real thing & We cant get booked …we used to fill the houses… but now no one wants ‘Tribute Bands’ …only ‘Tribute bands of the Best Tribute Bands’…. That is not good for the music scene”…..

Jimmie just counted his money & said finally stated his case & said:..

“Well I don’t know what’s good for the music scene …All I can tell you is you is this-
You weren’t mad when you the monopolized the clubs & took away gigs from Struggling Original creative bands and so many others’ by Being ‘impersonators’ yet calling it a tribute .At least Cover Bands Pay tribute, and do so as themselves. This gives them some form of integrity. Now you know how the Struggling songwriters like Judy Diamond must have felt. She is the Risk taker…. Don’t take it out on me because I came up with The Tribute to the Tribute band idea!”

…Jimmie went home to his two car garage home & layed in bed next to his wife& High school sweetheart the still busty Ruby Viola and stared at an old ‘Kansas Concert Poster framed on the wall from his high school days.
He kissed his wife goodnight & then checked on his Children who were fast asleep. He didn’t have to Dream anymore. For he is………

-Jimmie Jones- ‘King of the Tribute to Tribute Bands’-.
Written and concept by Michael Ubaldini
copyright- Library of congress 2010- cant be used without permission whole part or in any form...

Friday, June 18, 2010



The Story of Jesse Navarro is one which has baffled people for Decades
Which often leads to the Question-“Just who is Jesse Navarro?”
People have debated for years as to what this man is and where he came from, Ask one person they may answer He An Artist without equal, ask another they will say he is nothing more then a Hobo. Another may insist he is a gas station attendant with the rebel flair of a young Johnny Cash roaming Beale street in Memphis TN.every Sat night, Ask another they swear he is a A man in the upper echelons of society hob knobbing with only the wealthiest scenesters of the world. Others will adamantly argue he is eccentric recluse Hounded by a bevy of Playboy bunnies after a night to remember at the Hugh Hefner mansion
Well good people may I implore he is all these things and a few more .The Story of This mover and shaker held Top secret for decades for fear of all who it would incriminate can now finally be told by me ‘Sir Lawrence Gridlock the third of London’.- A Jesse Navarro expert.

The Story begins in a small shack in Costa Mesa ca. where Jesse was Born, He at age seven after being expelled from the Art institute for drawing caricatures of his teachers Decided riding the rails would be a better way of life. It was on July 4th he packed a pillow case with a Harmonica & sketch book and headed for St Louis. A curly haired Man with a guitar said his name was Woody. He took the young artist under his wing and would show him the freewheelin’ ways of Hobo life only If Jesse gave him his harmonica. So Jesse did and off they went. Begging door to door, rowing a raft down the mighty muddy Mississippi river- Charming the Middle class tattooed Rockabilly girls in Virginia, smoking cheap cigars under the statue of Robert E Lee- Woody would play & sing .Jesse would dance on a buckboard .They billed themselves ‘The Human Monkey & Cosmic Organ Grinder’. When the money dried up and they were chased from town to town, the seven year old Navarro would trade his artwork for Food & Lodging .People often scoffed at his art until he left. Where then they would promptly steal his ideas. And take credit & sell them for a ton of money years later.

When Jesse became a young man Woody then said to him “Jesse you must go it alone. I’ve taught you all I know bout’ the freewheelin’hobo life”
He bid his Protégé’ farewell. Jesse promptly boarded a ship for Paris. He encountered a woman ‘Beatrice Le Mont’- a beautiful Art gallery owner who took a liking to his art & his Buddy Holly Glasses. She introduced him to the high life of Wild party’s debauchery and the Jet set. It was Here his Art was praised by The Famous. Yet other artist refused to acknowledge his work (Which they later stole) and begged him to be more like Andy Warhol- so he signed their faces and said “You’re my creation “and left.
Beatrice Lemont’ loved him& their rumored romance was Legendary - but The roaming artist Navarro left France &headed down to Memphis where he opened up a classic gas station car garage to employ tattooed pin up models. They fixed his Hot Rod and he took their photos. And of course there was that infamous rumor now referred to as ‘The Poker game Incident At the Playboy mansion’
where Jesse and a bevy of Playboy bunnies and swingers returned to relax after a Strip poker game in the middle of Sunset Bolouvard,whilst Navarro passed out free Clothing from his Custom Clash clothing line & cigars to stunned onlookers.

The incident was kept quiet with hush money supposedly paid by none other then ‘Beatrice Lemont’ of France’ who had friends in high places She called the incident “A work of Art & theatre at is best!” It was a few weeks later on a hot summer night that he encountered ‘The Ghost of Howard Hughes’ and simply disappeared. The story gets blurry from here some even state today Jesse Navarro didn’t even really ever exist at all& is a folk tale invented by none other then a old man named ‘Woody the Hobo’ who resides in Bakersfield California in a resting home. – yet Jesse Navarro’s Art ,Photos & Short Films turn up from California to New York, Europe & all over world, leaving fans ecstatic & would be imitators plagiarizing his work.

.Private investigator ‘Doctor P.T. Clarke of Norfolk Virginia’ finally closed the case. When asked by a frantic news media “Does this Jesse Navarro exist?” He simply stated - “Yes my friends he does exist In all of his Photos, Album covers, short films, music videos& drawings that go against the grain of the Mainstream. Deep Inside the souls of the Underdog, the Harassed, The loved, the un-loved and those that dare to be real in a false world. Yes My Friends That’s where you’ll find Mr. Navarro –In The Human heart
Where true Art lives and breathes for all to see that care to look.”

Sincerely Sir Lawrence Gridlock the third of London
-(AKA Michael Ubaldini-The Rock n roll poet In the photo above Hyde Park London England)

Written by Michael Ubaldini
Copyright library of congress 2010(this is a Bio I wrote for Artist Jesse Navarro of Custom Clash Art who has lent his skills to my album covers & Tour Posters along with adding his skill to my music video/Promo films)
cannot be reproduced in any shape or form or fragments without permission

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Greta Garbo, Marlon Brando & My Recording Session

Recorded today the final song for my new upcoming album-'MICHAEL& THE LONESOME PLAYBOYS-'Last of the Honky Tonks'

Day started off by wakin' up and giving thanks to the man above for this thing called life.
Ate Cheerios,Drank Coffee,Talked to my Chick, wore a beat up shirt cause it looked cool.Broke out the ol' Gibson 175 white hollow body-Very minimal overdubs-The album was recorded the real way-No click Tracks or Tracking- no building&layering things-this album is ready to tear that all down.Just 4 people in a room,layin' em' down and havin' a ball playin' and a singin'
It's the complete bastard brother of my last album-Kinda Ying & Yang.
I have to keep movin'&Ramblin'& challenging myself as an artist- Gotta keep changin' things up-
Don't like reality stars on a red carpet
They do not belong there.
Red carpets are for the Brandos,Garbos,Pacinos&Streeps of the world-real artists....I never liked computer paintings.I dig the folks who use a real brush and sculpt by hand....Thats what this record will be all about...With a heavy dose of whisky,wimmens and Bag ladies.
Blue Yodel Blue Yodel Blue Yodel.....Jimmy Rodgers spirit was there.

PS -
If ya can't write a good song in under fifteen to thirty minutes.... ya gotta find another line of work....... Reality TV?

Tuesday, May 11, 2010


Laid The Needle down & plunged it in
Hit the Vein & the Feeling ran through my blood
Round & Round spinnin' with a whirlwind Of a mind floatin' like a sitar
Grindin' like A 'Royal Aristocrat Doll' I knew many years ago
who had many a Hair Dye

Catty as she could be within her supreme jewel knecked beauty
Gone home beauty Grown up all wrong
Purred did her pussycat whilst talkin bout' dem shoe's she wore

I laughed for I knew the Change already came beneath That Thumb that sailed me on flight 505
straight into Carnaby street hookers who were living in the past down on Sepulveda
She couldn't help her mother- but Mother helped herself to yours truly
Mommas little helper Don't come down cheap

cost me nuthin'

As Poundin' came all black like wet dripping paint
her summer clothes were ruined only when she walked by, But Dig it..Couldn't turn my head

I was lit up people

And Brutha's & Sista's I got shook.
When she talked behind her friends Back Anne &Jane
I knew That Stupid Girl on the other block was 10 times hipper then the
Blind Date nightmare on the stretch of Highway 101
But hence she Rocked My world when

I Laid that needle to the groove & hit that vein like I said
Not in my arm like all the flowers think on the Dead vines of Hollywood Blvd.

But in the vinyl

Then euphoria swam through my Blood
That's how it felt Man when Played Aftermath By the Rollin' Stones & heard it for the first time
Those who know Rock n Roll know , Those who don't

written by Michael Ubaldini
copyright Library of congress

Sunday, May 9, 2010


A Lot of people ask me what I use on my records to get a certain man how do ya get such a grat big Yet Tough sound?.well gang its all..Old Vintage Amps That I have been using for years- some Old Fender Champs , An Old Grestch Amp & An early 60's Fender BASSMAN I bought off Brian Setzer My old friend years Ago in the Early 9o's ..All Tube I never use no solid state Or Rack Junk..

I know I have always been amazed at why people use new Amps Or these little boxes That simulate the real Old School amps when they can just save some money and get the real thing.. Don't get Hung up at NAMM looking at all this new stuff to shortcut the music & Sound....Just
Git yerself The real deal...plug er in and let it Make some noise....

Also I look for old Non name brand old things or Handmade insturments that can give me a real Honest Rock n roll sound..
Its all a matter of Taste of course butI have found a Burger still tastes better on a grill then nuked in the microwave.. It fills ya up gives ya what ya need quick... But Don't Quite taste right,,

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Dream Sequence # 2 “LOST AMERICAN NIGHT” (Greasers’ Paradise)

Dream Sequence # 2
(Greasers’ Paradise)

Cigarette lighter
The sound of the clip
The smell of butane
My hands on yours
My sweet baby’s hip
Leaning back in your flower summer dress
On my ’62 Cutlass Old’s
‘ neath the stars
Lighting up tar pit skies
Beer bottle clankin’ the top of the hood
My black leather jacket ‘round you
My sweet baby’s shoulders
Wastin’ the night away
Embraced in a solitude

Here the whole world stops
All the hate
All the murders
All the politics
All the cynicism
For tonight the moon is shining
Bright as chrome on
Hubcap wheels

Your chest pressed firm to my heart
Against my dirty T-shirt
Raise the staff and watch
The red sea highway
Of hot asphalt part
The ragtop down

Our life’s eight millimeter film
On life’s celluloid reel
For tonight my sweet angel
You give the kiss
Most men wish to claim or steal
But the only crime is the truth
That exists in our hearts

So let’s hold on to this moment
In a lifetime gone wrong
Catch one dream in a glimpse
In fury’s existence belong
The treasure jewel lives in eternal
A Greasers’ paradise
Beauteous and tragic
In a lost American night

-Dream Sequence # 2 -“LOST AMERICAN NIGHT” (Greasers’ Paradise)-
Copyright 2008 – Michael Ubaldini-library of congress
all rights reserved including the rights of reproduction in whole part in any form

Saturday, May 1, 2010

MY DAYS AS A CARNEY- by Michael Ubaldini


MY DAYS AS A CARNEY- by Michael Ubaldini
I was beat busted, and rusted and disgusted..I heard the folk singer singin’
So I knew I felt that way too…

So I jumped up to the evening’s radiant fortitude of rusted vomit and strolled out onto the blacktop pavement. I was only19 years old but I dreamed of the carnival.

..My goal would be completed as I walked many years and tears later through a looking glass window, crashed into a sleepless hut and smoked a pack of empty cigarettes…scrambled to a railway line looking to jump the train, but by the time the train rolled round’ to me in this century I knew it would take my arm off so I roamed on without a train to catch

So I jumped a burro and it led me into a tent of sorts

I cleaned cages

Rang bells

Fought off ‘Tom Thumb’ and kicked out the ‘Bearded lady’

Cause her beard was thicker then mine

.. ..I often (after whipping the ringmaster several times into the hoop jumping scoundrel that he was)…came to the conclusion that was all he hired me for…so I told him to stick his neck into the lions mouth to get his head back…I think he rather enjoyed it (though I felt he knew nothing about Chuck Berry and it made me sick!)

The people came and me and Tom Thumb sat drinkin’ whiskey and trying’ to pick up chicks…he tried to fight me and got a little jealous cause I got all the tall girls…I couldn’t understand why he was trying’ to steal the stilts from the ‘Top Hatted Tall Man’, who read nothing but Esquire magazine on every other Tuesday looking for a coupon to buy himself a cane to give to ‘The Fat Lady’(He was sensitive like that)….

The more towns we traveled to, the more I became withdrawn…..

I couldn’t understand the politician who kept kissing himself in the funhouse mirror…Couldn’t he reconcile his differences elsewhere?

..Chuck Berry was blastin’ from the rafters and once again the Mayor man(That’s who he claimed to be anyway) was trying to shut us down….He kept saying we was too American for our own good

And he was gonna tell us what to do for our own good (I admit I was game until they told us somethin’ bout freedom only getting ya outta being humane).

.But I couldn’t agree with him,

So I gave him my candy colored straw hat and stuffed toy for being so strong as to ring the bell and sent him off to debate with ‘The Trapeze Artist’…..I figured they could shoot off the cannon ball and figure out that Stonewall Jackson and Mr. Ulysses Grant had done enough….so they should enjoy life and take in a ball game…you know…take it easy man…The Mayor man (or so he claimed)even tried to get outta payin’ us!!

I was blown away!!....Him of all people!! I knew as did Tom Thumb that this cat was was just lookin’ to become an animal that stood on two hind legs and I knew after all from learning the tricks of the trade from The Fat Lady that ‘Animal Farm’ was already well known and still in print….to be honest I didn’t really care as he did try to pay for his prize after all later that day and the carnival would just have to roll into the next town without him…kinda miss that ol’ troublemaker…reminded me of my dear old teacher back at school…

The one who told me all about how life is a carnival. but I was one up on him cause ‘ my sister already had a copy of ‘The Band” album….me and Tom Thumb played it over and over again til’ the turntable broke during a cheap stunt in Portland.

.. ..I did this for about a 3 year period. I fell in love several times with a ‘Dancing woman who swallowed swords’…she was incredible….but we had to part..It was true love after all and she did give me that ol’ guitar and my life really hasn’t been the same ever since…

I quit the carnival and joined the circus and became a Rock n Roll Star…me and ‘Annie Oakley’ and ‘Stack O lee’……

Singin’ and a shootin’

Hittin’ the target and winning’ the prize...and those tours across the pond were cool...bringin’ the carnival to new places and seeing everyone get hoppin’ mad bout’ how there is too much ‘American influence’ everywhere

…why you shoulda’ seen em’ get hoppin’ mad about it all…I wasn’t scared cause there is a sucker born every minute (That’s a famous P.T. Barnum saying you know)...and we just kept selling the loudest critics of the lot more and more Levis…..Man we made a killing on those blue jeans…..they sure hated us but they sho’ looked good in Levis…..

Well we sailed cross back home to ..Ellis Island..….. But it was closed for repair, so we landed on ‘Plymouth Rock ‘

They almost turned us away but ‘The Incredible Jesto the Human Cannon Ball' told em’- carneys are really ‘Pilgrims in disguise’…. so they let us through.

I decided right there and then and there with my guitar in go my separate way…So I did and wished-

Tom Thumb,

The Fat Lady, Stack O’ and Annie,The Ringmaster, The Dancer,

The Bearded lady,

The Trapeze artist,

The Top Hatted Tall Man,

Jesto & the Burro- ‘Good Luck’

And headed out to sing across the great land of ‘Mark Twain’

.. ..I sure miss my days as a Carney

-Michael Ubaldini

Copyright 2008 – Michael Ubaldini-library of congress
all rights reserverd including the rights of reproduction in whole part in any form
MICHAEL & THE LONESOME PLAYBOYS-'Last Of The Honky Tonks'.......Coming soon.. On BLACKWATER RECORDS AND TAPES.......

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