Seattle Jam Rock Band
Greenwood All*Stars is a high energy rock band that plays tight tunes and smoking jams. This highly experienced band plays an extensive set list of originals and unique covers. After rocking together for over a decade, they posses a synergy that is rarely seen on the scene.
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A Weekend at Snelk Video
Now presenting our first motion picture in gorgeous web video (quicktime)
download (9 MB)
petenice posted this as: video movies
Seattle Peace Concert 2004 - photos
Photo credit goes to Sabina Boehm.
petenice posted this as: still images
Live at FreeFest 2002
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This weekend of camping and jamming was an early highlight. Dan brought his multi-track recorder and captured the set. GWAS band is young and rusty in these tracks.
Recorded live at: FreeFest 2002 Sound board: Lar “I” Remixed by: Moore Sound |
GWAS posted this as: live recordings
Slow Shark - Album Download
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Recorded and released in 2005 Slow Shark captured the early years of the All*Stars. The high energy project is upbeat and animated. The project included a flash animated cartoon. |
| download mp3 | flash audio preview |
| 01. Soul Pimps | |
| 02. Happy Sex Worker | |
| 03. Backporch | |
| 04. Hookslide | |
| 05. Sexy People | |
| 06. Country Bumpkin | |
| 08. Attaq Iraq | |
| 09. Donna-U-Wanna.mp3 | |
| 10. Breakfast of Love.mp3 |
GWAS posted this as: studio recordings
FOREIGN SHORES LYRICS
STILL SITTING
By Pete Nice
I don’t want to work. I don’t want no job. Just sit do nothing all day. Gonna sit right here. Until I get what I want. And if I don’t get what I want, if I don’t get what I need, I’ll just sit right here until I get what I want. I don’t got no girl. I don’t got no love. Cuz I ain’t got a job. I ask you to touch my hand. Feel how it’s growing cold. I’m turning into stone.
ANARCHISTS COOKBOOK
By Abe Oritz
Let’s all empty our cups, and make up some stories, about last weekend and waking up. With a shot to the arm, we need three weeks more, or some kind of alibi, don’t believe us, that’s fine. We won’t waste your time, but you better believe that we won’t get back in line.
That’s where you’ll see us next, in front of your car, for a two-dollar window wash, next to the mall. It may be a sign, a smile for a buck, tend to out look for your wallet, but a smile is just fine. We won’t waste your time, but you better believe me we won’t get back in line.
I know a man, his name is Tex, he lives in his van, he’s got a dollar sign tattooed in his right palm. Saves it for when times are bad, but otherwise when he’s begging, uses his left hand calls it his right hand man. About two years, I don’t remember if you’re asking, but he parked his van on some poor kid’s legs under the viaduct. Now it won’t waste your time, when you’re sitting in the pen, I don’t remember much but the time was just grand.
ATARI CAR
By Pete Nice
Ghosts chase me down the street, I’m just looking for something to eat. When I hit this power pill, I’m going to give them all a thrill. Standing next to a mountain, knock it down with the back of my hand. I want everyone in the room to know, I got the high score in missile command.
Push the pedal through the floor, Zippy was born in 84.That’s the year Robert Smith was Goth and Van Halen still had David Lee Roth. Super Mario, makes it’s engine go. Zippy is the badest car alive, let’s boot it up and go for a drive.
MR SPOCK
By Abe Oritz
You’re something to see Mr. Spock. So logical, logical, everything fit’s into the palm of your hand. Just pressure the neck, slip into control with suggestion. Empty the vessel of everything it understands, was this your plan? Was this your plan, logical man? Because last night I saw you at 2am in the alley having your palm read by some esoteric cat. What’s up with that?
NOOKIE RUN
By Pete Nice
Well my baby dun went and moved so far away. Daddy’s feeling dope sick, needs a little oil of Olay. It’s so far in my rusty car, I cross my heart because I need to pray. Daddies going to drive there and beg and plead, cuz my baby moved away just to get a degree.
Doan’s pills, Rolaids, No-doze and a full tank of gas. Blood shot eyeballs staring at the lines through the glass. I’m a paranoid, Mongoloid; Smokey caught me driving too fast. Baby moved away, she’s chasing a dream, cuz my baby moved away just to get a degree. Baby’s gone, Daddy’s gone. Don’t think I can carry on. Take a bus, it takes too long so now I sing this driving song. Baby moved away and I’m feeling so blue, my baby moved away, I think she met someone new.
NOT EVEN
By Matt Norris
She doesn’t like the way I sing,
I sing off key.
I wrote these words for another girl,
actually.
Not even gonna shape my reasons,
Not even, you know.
I’ll take you with me when I go.
I tossed around again last night,
I was thinking it through.
My thoughts drift off to someone else,
to somebody new.
I think I saw my baby,
right there on the TV.
I think she turned and looked at me.
Not even gonna shape my reasons,
Not even, you know.
I’ll take you with me when I go.
(yeah, yeah, yeah… c’mon)
LOVE ATTACK
By Abe Oritz
Because it’s old and it’s dentured. And it’s cold, down in the toes. So the story goes, mother nature, made the rains come, just to grow some mold. But it’s got nothing to do with her.
And she don’t have to shower, just to crawl into a bed completely made. And then lie there, watching minutes turn into hours, and then hours slowly melt into days. But it’s got nothing to do with her.
It’s a love attack, it’ll break your back, it’s making a comeback.
WORKING HOLIDAY
By Abe Oritz
Let’s pretend we never met each other. Let’s pretend we didn’t get along. That our puzzle pattern hearts, never fit together, locked forever on and on. It’s going to be another working holiday, why don’t you let me call you on the phone.
How is it that love and hate could be the same thing for you and I, a double helix twisted round and round. I’ll get you in a boxing ring and catch you with a sucker punch. Oh baby, please don’t cry.
SAVING FACE
By Pete Nice
Sysaphis, with his chips cashed in, the deck is stacked, your going to win, push that boulder you high roller. You got game and you can’t complain, when you tied one on and you’re feeling no pain, but just how long can this go on? Oh oh what’s that sound, everybody look what going down, that’s the song when something’s wrong. My my it’s the crash, we all knew that it wouldn’t last, money spent, it came and went. I know you wanna save your face, but you’re crashing your car to win the race. Pride is a ride with its ups and downs, but you sailing your ship into the ground.
What do I do, it affects me too, they see right through those things you do, you haven’t got a clue darling. You were pretty bold, but now you’re deep in a hole, think again fair-weather friend. It’s so deep that you can’t see out, no one hears you when you shout, twist and turn, feel the burn. Now we’ve reached the end, time for us to start again, but not for you your time is through. Brand new start and a brand new deal, build it up on something real, start again, it never ends. I’m new to this, hubris. I can’t resist, to raise my fist. But it doesn’t seem to matter anyway.
BESAME MUCHO
By Pete Nice
My Angelina serine she’s dancing salsa, under moonlight bright down from above. My Corazon alone is beating harder, does she know that she’s the one I love. Her dress impress it’s clinging to her tightly. Her heels appeal, they’re clicking on the tile. Retain, refrain, I wish that I could hold her. And gaze into her eyes and see her smile.
But all the while she’ll only dance with Lupe. He knows the steps to steal her heart away. She doesn’t know that he will just mistreat her.
But all I can do is sit right here and wait.
The spice is nice but it’s burning my estamogo. A burrito supreme is sitting on the plate. Suffice the night is not as I had hoped it would be, I brought her here for a nice romantic date. At the casa que pasa they’re turning up the music. My sweet petite is getting up to dance. A Latino amigo is stroking his thick mustache and spoiling all my chances for romance.
But all the while she’ll only dance with Lupe. He knows the steps to steal her heart away. But then out of the blue I remember some words from high school. I clear my throat and this is what I say.
Say goodnight tonight, my darling oh so lovely. Say goodnight tonight, that’s all we’ll have today. From out of the blue, my Spanish skills, they impressed you. Because I knew the words that start with besame.
FOREIGN SHORES
By Pete Nice
Sweet Annabelle Marie, please indulge me in this fantasy. We’ll sail to foreign shores, there we’ll live right forever more. It’s all about you, what you put me through. It’s all about me, and a fantasy. I’ll weave it out of thread, draw the bath and make the bed, A song I’ll write to sing all night to you my friend.
With eyes as black as snow, they burn right through like the blacksmith’s coals. Be careful what you sow, eyes like that make my poor heart explode. It’s all about you, you’re too good to lose. It’s all about me, and a fantasy.
Let’s dream of who we’ll be. And turn that dream into reality. We’ll sail to foreign lands. Our trip starts now if you take my hand. It’s all about you, what you put me through. The lies I tell, let’s hope that they come true.
GWAS posted this as: lyrics, waste
The Dubliner 10/05 - show blog
PeteNice: This was a big show for us, our first big show without Danny. He’s not out of the band, he just couldn’t make this gigs. We hooked up with Martin the Conga Guy to keep time. It was a great experience. We really had to get out front of the groove and we also had to bring down the energy. Much more focus on lyrics and harmony, which we actually hit. Yeah.
GWAS posted this as: show blog, waste
