Niki Hoeky - P. J. Proby
A country soul stomper from trouser-splitting crooner P.J. Proby and songwriter Jim Ford, sometime solo artist and specialist in chicken shack, hickory-flavoured, southern fried tales of hardship beneath the Mason-Dixon line in the
dark days of Dixie, before regional menu options and the spicy salsa Zinger.
Niki, Niki, Niki Hoeky. Your pappy's doing time in the pokey.
As with narative outlaw tunes, modern popular songs about working class toil are a rarity. Even modern country music has rejected tales of penury, drunken patriarchs, saintly mothers and sons
calling another man 'Daddy' in favour of the anodyne balladry and catchy hooks of chart pop. Maybe it's because life is no longer hard enough...
Nearly out of credit on pay-as-you-go. Daddy worked flexi-time for a
regional utility company. Blockbuster were out of Eddie Murphy films - the later family sequels not the early funny ones with lots of creative swearing.
Now, if that made any sense, get hip to the consultation of the boolawee...
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