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Launchpad Omega

by The Pornadoes

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1.
Got our jet packs stacked on the launching pad We’re ready and standing by The cosmic Caddy is fueled up And we’re just about ready to fly Well the read-out says that everything’s hip, And the boys are ready for fun Gonna flip your lid when the countdown starts- 7-6-5-4-3-2-1! Blast oFF! … Through the stratosphere, Blast oFF! …Through the night! Step on the gas and we’re lightning fast, quicker than a beam of light Blast oFF!... Through the stratosphere, Blast oFF!... To the Stars Split atoms for power, we’ll be there in an hour We’re on a mission, we’re on a mission, We’re on a mission to Mars Well over on Venus they’re real square They don't know how to swing And don’t even ask about Mercury Unless Kelvin in your thing Gonna get real loose on some Martian hooch Gonna dig all the martian chicks At the Orbit Lounge we’ll dance above the ground Zero-gravity gettin’ our kicks Blast oFF!.. Through the stratosphere, Blast oFF!.. Through the night Step on the gas and we’re lightning fast, quicker than a beam of light Blast oFF!… Through the stratosphere, Blast oFF!... To the Stars Let the jet-setters croon as they fly to the moon We’re on a mission, we’re on a mission, We’re on a mission to Mars (We’re on a mission!) Here from planet earth (We’re on a mission!) To find a brave new world (We’re on a mission!) I can be your meteor man (We’re on a mission!) And you can be my galaxy girl Blast oFF!... Through the stratosphere, Blast oFF!... Through the night Step on the gas and we’re lightning fast, Quicker than a beam of light Blast oFF!... Through the stratosphere, Blast oFF!... To the Stars Split atoms for power, we’ll spalsh down in an hour We’re on a mission, we’re on a mission, We’re on a mission to Mars
2.
I got a hunger Like a fire that I can’t put out Say it’s a wonder I can keep a thought in my head Cause your lovin’s something I’ve-a gone too long without I need your cherry-red, turbo-charged 12-o-clock love tonight I need your cherry-red, turbo-charged 12-o-clock love tonight Drive All Night till I get to you Gonna Drive All Night don’t you leave me blue I got full tank of gas and the road is clear And I’m burnin’ up the highway in my highest gear There ain’t no cop that can chase me down And I’m hopin’ and a-prayin’ you ain’t out on the town If you’re not home, I don’t know what I’ll do Gonna drive all night till I get to you ​ I got a yearnin’ Something I never did feel before You got me burnin’ Like a 4-alarm fire I’ve only had one kiss but I want more more more Of your cherry-red, turbo-charged 12-o-clock love tonight I need your cherry-red, turbo-charged 12-o-clock love tonight Drive All Night till I get to you Drive All Night don’t you leave me blue There’s 300 miles between you and me Don't know the speed limit cause you’re all I can see Got a fresh pack of smokes tucked up in my sleeve If you say yes tonight then I may never leave But if you ain't home, I don’t know what I’ll do Gonna drive all night 'till I get to you Gonna drive all night 'till I get to you Gonna drive all night 'till I get to you Gonna drive all night …. 'Till I get to you
3.
There’s a boat at the docks in Miami It sails at a quarter past nine When it casts of from shore, you wont know what’s’ in store Or the things that I’ve got on my mind Watch the lights disappear on the skyline As the boat sails away from the pier Just a couple of hours, and a few whiskey sours Before the island of Cuba is near A daiquiri here, a daiquiri there And then we’ll pause for a game of roulette (come on, seventeen!) Then we’ll cash in our chips and I’ll kiss your sweet lips As we dance to a jazz quintet We’ll be worlds away from our troubles When we dine at Café By The Sea With salted wind in your hair, we’ll begin our affair Take the night boat to Havana with me Take the night boat to Havana with me At La Florida Bar, we’ll kiss under the stars Then stroll to Hotel Nacional (as Mr. & Mrs. Smith!) Take a dip in the pool then well neck in the cool On a bench in the Parque Central ` We’ll watch the sun rise from the Prado Underneath the cool shade of the trees There’s romance and excess if you just acquiesce, Take the night boat to Havana with me. Take the night boat to Havana with me.
4.
When the train rolls in to Kansas City…. My gal will wear her finest frock She’ll meet me down at Union Station… And we’ll kiss right under that big ol’ clock When I get back home to Kansas City The lovin’ will never stop We’ll head to 12th and Vine And have a real fine time When I get to Kansas City, When I get to Kansas City, When I get to Kansas City, Kansas City Mine ​ I want some steak and potatoes and an ice cold beer The sound of Charlie Parker ringin’ in my ear There may be lots of cattle but it’s no cow town, I’m off to Kansas City, Kansas City bound! ​ Here comes the number 20, east from Abeline Aint’ she the prettiest engine that you ever seen? And Southward from Des Moines, there’s the number 9 And the number 6 from Texarkana is comin' in right on time ​ I see the Silver Streak Zephyr down on platform 4 The fireman’s wavin’, and she’s ready to go And bound for New Orleeans, there’s the Southern Belle, If you listen to that whistle, think of the stories that train could tell... ​ All the fellas wear their two-tones and their hats and vests the ladies sport their heels and their Sunday best the Paris of the Plains is know for class and style When I get to Kansas City, gonna stay a while ​ When I meet my gal in Kansas City We’ll walk together arm in arm We’ll take a stroll down on to Main Street To the Savoy and all of its charms When I get back home to Kansas City The lovin’ will keep me warm We’ll go to 12th and Vine And have a real fine time When I get to Kansas City, When Iget to Kansas City, When I get to Kansas City, Kansas City Mine ​
5.
October Surf 03:22
Sunrise over the pine trees The temperature’s fifty nine We’ll have to wait Till the new year To ride the returning tide ​ The Beach is empty and silent Excwpt for the crash of the waves Time to think about Halloween now And keeping the zombies in their graves ​ The fires go out on the beach And the days are shorter now The wind from the north blows the waves With a fearful roaring howl ​ The ocean is filled up with corpses After dusk, the beach is a place we dread The harvest moon has the werewolves howling They call out to the surfers of the undead ​ The fires go out on the beach And the days are shorter now The wind from the north blows the waves With a fearful roaring howl They shamble toward the surf HANG TEN! The fires go out on the beach And the days are shorter now The wind from the north blows the waves With a fearful roaring howl ​ The riptides of evil are calling for the ghouls to crawl out of the earth Better pack your stakes and holy water If you dare to ride the October Surf
6.
Dodge City 05:18
Driving east from the Rocky Mountains and from Denver, their jewel in the west There’s a warrant that’s made you an outlaw So you play your cards close to your chest There is no one you can call as an ally No one you can call as a friend No family you can call for a favor So you drive as if this is the end in the heat of the summer when you have no relief and you don’t have a dime to you name You can’t buy a Pepsi to hold to your brow all you have to hold on to is shame in the heat of the summer when you have no relief and you don’t have a dime to you name When the red lights flash in your rear view mirror Dodge City is the end of the game You open the driver’s door slowly As the sheriff gets out of his car You can see Boot Hill in the distance And remember to aim for his star He pulls his gun out of its holster And he meets your cold eyes with a stare You take your aim at your judge and jury And the bullets start to fly through the air B2 In a town called Dodge City, you’ll never escape The wounds you’ll never survive As the your vision goes black you remember The warrant said dead or alive The warrant said dead or alive
7.
T-t-t-t-TORY!!!!! ​ T-t-t-t-TORY!!!!! ​ 5, 6, 7, 8!!!!! ​ T-t-t-t-TORY!!!!!
8.
There’s a brand new chick that’s on the scene Like a brunette version of Norma Jean Smokes Lucky Strikes and drinks red wine And I’m gonna make her mine all mine But it ain’t the skirt that’s cut to there, It’s about the way she does her hair Well I don’t know where she got if from From her pappy or her mom But when she looks that way She’s like Enola Gay ‘cause she’s about to drop a bomb oh oh oh Victory Rolls! She works all day at the factory But her past is shrouded in mystery Hits the juke joint every night Always plays it cool, never seems uptight Got a red bandanna and lipstick too Like the pin-up girl you wish you knew Well she never was no flying ace, But she’s my hero you can bet Cause with hair that high stacked up to the sky She’s a Goddamn Patri-ette! ​ oh oh oh Victory Rolls! Well I’d stand up and salute her If it wouldn’t be obscene But with that coiffure, you can be assured She’s a riveting rockabilly queen! ​ oh oh oh Victory Rolls!
9.
Leather booths, and candlelight The cannelloni’s great tonight You’re gorgeous in your blue chiffon And I love the perfume you’ve got on I can see an expectation, I’m certain that it’s true And there’s a welling of affection that I must express to you…. I’m just a half a bottle of gin from falling in love with you I know it sounds like a sin, but nothing else will do The conversation’s been scintillating But I’ve got to go and take my medicine And that’s gin There’s a world of wonder and possibility In your gaze But if this thing's going to progress, there can be no delays I can’t say the words you want to hear 'Till I make these martins disappear The dance floor’s waiting, much to my chagrin So kindly pass that half a bottle of gin. Well I love Hedge Trimmer and Gun Club too! Olives or a twist will do! Please add a half ounce of vermouth Because without vermouth, boys? (It’s just uncouth!) Line up them glasses, boy oh boy Like William Powell and Myrna Loy Please don’t think that I’m a heel, It’s tough to tell you how I feel- Excuse me, bartender! (Excuse me, bartender!) Excuse me, bartender! (Excuse me, bartender!) I’m just a half a bottle of gin from falling in love with you. I can see you’re dreaming of white picket fences and tea for two But before I’m fitted with pipe and slippers And meet your next of kin Please kindly pass (please kindly pass) Please kindly pass (please kindly pass) Please kindly pass that half a bottle of gin.
10.
Well honey, I know I’ve told you truly That I love you more than life itself But it’s good that you know, when I hit Reno There’ll be no women, craps, and keno But there’s one place where I can’t help myself ​ When I’m drinkin’ at the Silver Dollar Bar At Harold’s Club, the best saloon I’ve seen I won’t hesitate after three manhattans To find the table that fuels my passion and mosey past the gals playing slot machines In the corner there I hear the dealer calling And I know I’m obliged no more to roam And as much as I do love our house in Tucson, Reno’s got the green green felt of home. Seven Card Stud ​ Well my money’s on the table so deal me in One up and two in the hole After one card I’m four-to-the flush And we’ve got three cards to go…. Seven Card Stud I’ll call you from the Silver Dollar Bar With one more manhattan in my hand And sure it just might be right around midnight But I promise things will turn out alright When it comes to poker, I’m your man ​ I got rolled up trips and a lot of chips Gonna wait for a sucker to play There’s a cat who dreams he can beat me with queens You can bet I’m gonna make him pay When I’ve had my fill, I get up from the table And bid farwell to the club that I adore then drive my T-Bird right back home to Tucson Where I’ll kiss you and tell you that I’m your… Seven Card Stud ​
11.
Condemnation 04:19
Hey hey preacher man, don’t you come around this way I haven’t got the patience for the thigns you’ve got to say… I’d rather trust myself than put my trust i you And live my life for doin’ what I want to do There’s ladies here for lovin’ and the Devil gets his due God knows I don’t need your condemnation Condemnation, baby ​ My aunts and uncles, cousins, kin, my mom and dad the good book always told them everything I done was bad A hypocrite’s a problem everywhere I roam Let he who’s without sin go on and cast that stone No rock has ever hit me and I see I’m not alone God knows I don’t need their condemnation Condemnation, baby ​ Well the devil’s not in gambling, not in rock and roll, He’s in Wheeling, West Virginia in those mines of coal And in the mills that make the steel in Allentown And in the hearts of misers tryin’ to keep the good men down And the preachers try and tell you you’ll wear a golden crown Just give your 10 percent before you’re rotting in the ground They’re selling you a deal that will never come around They're the ones deservin' condemnation Condemnation, baby Condemnation, baby Condemnation

about

Seattle-based "Swingasurfajazzabilly" band The Pornadoes' new album Launchpad Omega is ready for blast off! Launchpad Omega takes the listener on a wild trip through the sonic landscapes of a bygone era with tunes about Martians, a gambling binge in Reno, ladies' hairdos, and undead surfers.

Self-proclaimed "World's Only Swingasurfajazzabilly Band" The Pornadoes connect the four corners of the great American musical baseball diamond: Jazz, Surf, Rockabilly, and Country Swing with their cinematic, guitar-driven style. Launchpad Omega takes the listener on a wild trip through the sonic landscapes of a bygone era with tunes about Martians, a gambling binge in Reno, the American railroad, and undead surfers.

This is the Pornadoes' third album. It marks a new direction for the band, as they integrate new musical influences and vocals into the instrumental country/surf style of their two previous recordings.

Jason "Mr. Goessl" Goessl (guitar) helms the band, switching effortlessly from the finger-picked jazz style of Chet Atkins to the blistering rock 'n roll riffs reminiscent of Link Wray. J. "Jasper McCann" McIlvain (vocals) fronts the ensemble, equally comfortable as Darin-esque crooner or rockabilly wailer. Ethan "Chet Gracenote" Sobotta (bass), one of the foremost slap bass players in Pacific Northwest, is also possessed of a keen jazz sensibility and symphonic-level virtuosity. Tom "Tommy Ramshaft" Zgonc (drums) mixes the light-handed cymbal work of the greatest jazz drummers with the thundering beats of surf group greats like the Ventures. With McCann's witty, narrative lyrics and the ensemble's thoughtful arrangements, The Pornadoes deliver the finest in "new-fangled old-fashioned music" by updating genre tropes from the past with musical virtuosity and a modern mindset.

credits

released April 6, 2017

Jason "Mr. Goessl" Goessl: Lead Guitar
J. "Jasper McCann" McIlvain: Vocals, Rhythm Guitar
Ethan "Chet Gracenote" Sobotta: Acoustic and Electric Bass
Tom "Tommy Ramshaft" Zgonc: Skins
Engineered by: Tom Meyers of Ground Control Recording
Mixed by: Tom Meyers of Ground Control Recording
Mastered by: Evan Schiller of Zulusound Studio

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The Pornadoes Seattle, Washington

The World's Only Swingasurfajazzabilly Band!

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