After yesterday's sprinkling of tragic and dirty songs by Bessie Smith, let's get a little filthier courtesy of the so-called Queen of the Moaners from South Carolina who actually had a chirpy, perky, high voice. Smith (1894-1935) learned her craft from the age of 16 singing in tent shows and vaudeville before appearing in New Orleans theatre. In 1923 she moved to New York to sing in speakeasies, and got a break working with the likes of Fletcher Henderson and Louis Armstrong, and began recording with Columbia Records. This 1929 song is a reworking of the same by Hudson Whittaker (aka Tampa Red) and Thomas A. Dorsey, but with a little more spice to it, painting a sleazy picture of hotel rendezvous and no shortage of light innuendo. The title phrase could be regarded as a highly sexual reference, or a phrase that pertains to the hardship of the times. Some of the lyrics are slightly indistinct, but 'coonies' may likely refer to the slang for a Cajun person of black French heritage in the South or New Orleans area.
Listen here, folks, I'm gonna sing a little song,
But you mustn't get mad, I don't mean no wrong.
There's an old maid name is Liza Beck,
Always singin' the blues when she tumbles in bed.
Oh, it's tight like that
Oh, it's tight like that
Hear me talkin' to you
I mean it's tight like that
I know a hotel that's called the Slumbering Patch,
Got a million bedbugs just to make you scratch
Monkey woke up a quarter to three
And he said to the flea, "Quit your pickin' on me."
Oh, it's tight like that.
Oh, it's tight like that.
Ah, hear me talkin' to you.
I mean, it's tight like that.
Mandy Lee Jones got to rappin' at night
And she never gets home till it's comin' daylight
Old Uncle Bill came 'bout half-past ten
Put the key in the hole, but he couldn't get in
He says: "It's tight like that,
What's the matter with it, gettin' tight like that?
Oh, hear me call you coonies,
I mean it's tight like that."
If you see my man, tell him to hurry home
I ain't had no bread since he's been gone
I love a man slender and slim
When he struts his stuff, why, it's too bad, Jim
Oh, it's tight like that.
Oh, it's tight like that.
Ah, hear me talkin' to you.
I mean it's tight like that.
Oh, the little red rooster said to the hen:
"You ain't laid a egg in I can't tell when."
The little red hen said to the rooster:
"You don't come around as often as you used to.
Now it's tight like that. A long delay
Makes it tight like that - Hear what I say
Hear me talkin' to you.
I mean it's tight like that."
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