Asking only workman’s wages
I come looking for a job
But I get no offers,
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue.
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there. – Paul Simon, “The Boxer”
One year ago today I published my second column featuring songs about whores, and after it and my other columns on the subject (September 4th, 2010 and 2011 and September 5th, 2010) a number of readers named their own favorite songs on the subject. So today I’d like to feature those songs, picked by you; interestingly, each song is about a different type of prostitute. We’ll start out with what has to be the most famous song about a Creole streetwalker ever, suggested by Sailor Barsoom:
Lady Marmalade (Bob Crewe and Kenny Nolan)
Hey Sister, Go Sister, Soul Sister, Go Sister
Hey Sister, Go Sister, Soul Sister, Go Sister
He met Marmalade down in Old New Orleans
Struttin’ her stuff on the street
She said “Hello, hey Joe,
You wanna give it a go?”
(refrain)Mmm Gitchi Gitchi Ya Ya Da Da
Gitchi Gitchi Ya Ya Here
Mocha chocolata Ya Ya
Creole Lady Marmalade
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?
He savored her cool while she freshened up
That boy drank all that Magnolia wine
On the black satin sheets where
He started to freak
(refrain)
Seeing her skin feeling silky smooth
Color of cafe au lait
Made the savage beast inside
Roaring till it cried, “More, More, More!”
Now he’s at home doing 9 to 5
Living his brave life of lies
But when he turns off to sleep
All memories creep more, more, more
(refrain x 2)
The best and best-known version was the second one, a hit for Patti Labelle’s self-named girl group in 1974. It was produced by the legendary Allan Toussaint and the backing band is The Meters, whom regular readers may remember from my column “They All Axed for You”.
Our next selection describes an underage prostitute in London, and was suggested by Comixchik:
Cross-Eyed Mary (Ian Anderson)
Who would be a poor man, a beggarman, a thief —
If he had a rich man in his hand?
And who would steal the candy from a laughing baby’s mouth
If he could take it from the money man?
Cross-eyed Mary goes jumping in again.
She signs no contract but she always plays the game.
Dines in Hampstead village on expense accounted gruel,
And the jack-knife barber drops her off at school.
Laughing in the playground — gets no kicks from little boys:
Would rather make it with a letching grey.
Or maybe her attention is drawn by Aqualung,
Who watches through the railings as they play.
Cross-eyed Mary finds it hard to get along.
She’s a poor man’s rich girl and she’ll do it for a song.
She’s a rich man stealer but her favour’s good and strong:
She’s the Robin Hood of Highgate — helps the poor man get along.
(repeat third verse)
(repeat second verse)
The lyrics are a bit vague, but we can tell a few things for certain about Mary: she’s no runaway because she goes to school, and she’s clearly independent (despite internet commenters who imagine they see a pimp somewhere in there). She doesn’t charge very much, doesn’t use protection (“jack-knife barber” = back-alley abortionist) and seems to be in “the game” more for the kicks rather than for the money. It has been suggested that the name “Mary” is specifically meant to be a reference to the Madonna because several of the songs on the Aqualung album are critical of organized religion, but Anderson insists that it is not a concept album despite being widely regarded as one.
A different type of urban hooker appears in our next song, suggested by Dean Clark:
Hey, Big Spender (Dorothy Fields)
The minute you walked in the joint,
I could see you were a man of distinction,
A real big spender,
Good looking, so refined.
Say, wouldn’t you like to know
What’s going on in my mind?
So, let me get right to the point,
I don’t pop my cork for ev’ry guy I see.
Hey, big spender, spend…
A little time with me!
Do you wanna have fun…?
How’s about a few laughs…?
I can show you a…good time…
Do you wanna have fun…fun…fun?
How’s about a few laughs…laughs?
I can show you a…good time…
Let me show you a…good time
Hey, big spender…
Hey, big spender…
The minute you walked in the joint,
I could see you were a man of distinction,
A real big spender.
Good looking, so refined.
Say, wouldn’t you like to know
What’s going on in my mind?
So, let me get right to the point,
I don’t pop my cork for every guy I see.
Hey, big spender,
Hey, big spender!
Hey, big spender!
Spend…a little time with me…!
Fun…Laughs…Good Time!
Fun…Laughs…Good Time!
Fun…Laughs…Good Time!
[spoken] Hows about it, Palsy?…Yeah!
As in “Private Dancer” (discussed in my last song column), this song and the musical in which it appears (Sweet Charity) use taxi dancing as a metaphor for prostitution and the dance hall as a metaphor for the brothel; indeed, the musical is based on Federico Fellini’s Nights of Cabiria (1957), in which the heroine is openly portrayed as a prostitute.
The ladies in our first three songs, and indeed in most songs about whores, are urban. But the subject of our next selection, suggested by Rapid and Dr. Sarah on two different columns, lived in a small rural town:
The Son of Hickory Holler’s Tramp (Dallas Frazier)
(refrain) Oh, the path was deep and wide
From footsteps leading to our cabin
Above the door there burned a scarlet lamp
And late at night a hand would knock
And there would stand a stranger
Yes, I’m the son of Hickory Holler’s tramp
Yeah, the weeds were high, the corn was dry
When Daddy took to drinking
Him and Sally Walker, they up and ran away
Then Momma shed a silent tear
And promised fourteen children
I swear you’ll never see a hungry day
When Momma sacrificed her pride
The neighbors started talking
But we were much too young
To understand the things they said
All we really cared about
Was Momma’s chicken dumplings
And a goodnight kiss
Before we went to bed
(refrain)
When Daddy left and destitution
Came upon our family
Not one neighbor volunteered
To lend a helping hand
So just let ‘em gossip all they want
She loved us, and she raised us
The proof is standing here
A full grown man
Last summer Momma passed away
And left the ones who loved her
Each and every one is
More than grateful for their birth
And each Sunday she receives
A big bouquet of fourteen roses
With a card that reads
The Greatest Mom on Earth
(refrain)
The song was a hit for O.C. Smith in 1968, and was covered by Kenny Rogers in 1977; it’s one of a small group of whore songs which are not only positive, but defiantly so, asserting that the harlot is morally superior to those who would judge her. Our last selection, suggested by Ornithorhynchus, falls into that category as well; it is not about any specific type of prostitute but rather about all of us as a group:
Sweet Cream Ladies (Jon Stroll and Bobby Weinstein)
Sweet cream ladies, forward march
The world owes you a living
Sweet cream ladies, do your part
Think of what you’re giving
To the lost and lonely people of the night
Out of need, they seek direction for their life
They will love you in the darkness
Take advantage of your starkness
And refuse to recognize you in the light
Sweet cream ladies, forward march
Think what you’re providing
Sweet cream ladies, show your starch
What’s the use of hiding?
Tell the socialites to look the other way
It’s instinctive stimulation you convey
It’s a necessary function
Meant for those without compunction
Who get tired of vanilla everyday
Sweet cream ladies, forward march
Puritans ignore them
Sweet cream ladies do their part
Sweet cream men adore them
Let them satisfy the ego of the male
Let them fabricate success to those who fail
And should penalties pursue them
When there’s really credit due them
They might keep a simple fellow out of jail
Sweet cream ladies forward march
Sweet cream ladies forward march
Sweet cream ladies forward march…
I had never heard of this 1968 Box Tops hit before, so I’m really glad it was called to my attention; I think it may be the only song which goes beyond a positive portrayal of one prostitute or a sort of accepting tolerance of our whole profession to declare that we serve a vital social function and should be proud of ourselves.
Thanks to everyone for the great suggestions!
“The Son of Hickory Holler’s Tramp” reminds me of the way Victor Hugo saw whoring. He thought whoring was noble if it was to feed your family. That song is my favorite one of the songs offered. It tells a long story in a few words, Mama is gritty but doesn’t sound bitter.
A lot of hooker songs out there.
You covered “Sweet Painted Lady” – which is probably my favorite hooker song! 😀 It reminds me so much of all the places we used to “take over” when I was deployed with the Navy. “You won’t need a gutter to sleep in tonight!” … I love it.
Maggie … maybe I missed it somewhere but I checked and couldn’t find where you mentioned it … but …
Bruce Hornsby … “Down the Road Tonight” about a boy who falls in love with a hooker.
My favorite stripper song is by KISS … “Take it Off”
“Wave your panties in the air,
lick your lips and shake your hair, uh huh
Ooh, when you spread a little oil,
yeah, my blood begins to boil, uh huh
Yeah, it’s so hard to choose,
when you all look so fine
But I got nothin’ to lose
but my money and my mind”
Nope, I didn’t know the Bruce Hornsby one. As you say, there are a lot of them!
One of the most fun songs I remember was Chris de Burgh’s “Patricia the Stripper”. He always had fun performing that song with whatever variations amused him, but the official version celebrates a stripper who gets arrested, and then let off by the judge on a technicality. The song is light-spirited, with lyrics like:
“She says God made her a sinner,
just to keep fat men thinner,
as they tumble down in heaps before her feet.
They hang around in groups,
like battle-weary troops.
One can often see them queue,
right down the street.”
Ah yes. Excellent.
Forgive me if it’s been mentioned before, but one of my faves is “If I can’t sell it, I’ll keep sittin’ on it”- I particularly like the version from Ruth Brown
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KPll4sQDssU
I own a secondhand furniture store
and I think my prices are fair,
that is until this real cheap guy I know came in one day
Saw this chair he wanted to buy, but he wouldn’t, claimed the price was too high.
So I looked ‘im straight in the eye, and this was my reply…
If I can’t sell it, I’m gonna sit down on it.
Why should I give it away?
Now darling if you want it,
you got to buy it.
And I mean just what I say.
Now how would you like to find this
waitin at home for you every night.
Only been used once or twice
and it’s still nice and TIGHT!
Whoa…
But if I can’t sell it,
I’m gonna keep sittin on it.
I don’t see the need
to give it away.
Now you can’t find a better pair of legs in town
and a back like this, huh, not for miles around
And that is why if I can’t sell it,
I’m going to recline upon it
Why should I give it away?
Because it’s made for comfort,
built for wear and tear.
Where else could you find
such an easy chair!
Haa… Whoa…
If I can’t sell it,
I’m gonna remain seated on it
I ain’t about to give it away.
Because it’s lush, plush, slick and sleak.
Darling, a high class piece like this
at any price
is cheap!
So if I can’t sell it,
I’m a remain seated on it.
I don’t see the need to give it away
Now look at this nice bottom,
ain’t it easy on the eye,
guaranteed to support any weight or size!
If I can’t sell it, I’m gonna sit down on it.
I ain’t about to give it away.
Now, I have really had my fill
of folks always comin around
with their hands stuck out,
want something,
don’t want to give up nothing.
Now if you want this,
put your hand in your stash
and give me some cash.
If you want something for free,
go to the Salvation Army,
don’t come to me.
Now this is not Saint Vincent de Paul’s place,
this is Ruth’s place.
Read my lips.
NO FREE TRIPS!
Nope, that one hasn’t been mentioned before. Maybe we’ll collect enough new suggestions for a sequel! 🙂
Great song!
Bob Seger. Down on Mainstreet. Enuf said.
Lady Marmalade
OK, you’ve done it, and I can shut up about it now. 😉
This song is a lot of fun and has been covered a number of times, and will be again in the future. I didn’t think it at all unrealistic to suggest that some version would be on the charts in 2109.
Cross-Eyed Mary
Not sure I want to know just how young Mary is. Not sure I want to know just who exactly Aqualung is. Whoever he is, he watches girls on playgrounds and has an album named after him.
Hey Big Spender
I first heard this in high school in the early Eighties. Yes, it was an official school thing, with fourteen through sixteen year old girls singing it. I can only assume that our teachers were truly clueless.
The Son of Hickory Holler’s Tramp
I have to think that this may be the best hooker song ever. Not only did Momma do what she needed to do to support fourteen children, but those children grew up proud of her, as they should be.
Sweet Cream Ladies
Hold on, I need to wait ’till the guys with the leaf-blowers are done before I can hear myself think, much less listen to a song.
Like you, I didn’t know this song existed until Ornithorhynchus mentioned it. I really like it, though. It has a good sound, and a better message.
Ah, and look! Even more songs are presented here in the comments. Well, here goes:
Patricia the Stripper
Silly, a lot of fun, and Patricia does NOT come to a bad end. Works for me.
If I Can’t Sell It, I’ll Sit On It
She wants to be paid a fair price for a well-made chair. What’s the big deal?
What? Oh.
Down on Main Street
I didn’t expect a Bob Seger song to suck, and it didn’t. It’s sort of like Lady Marmalade or really several others, in that the protagonist finds himself enamored of a girl he sees plying the more public part of her trade.
Mary can’t be that young if she can get pregnant; I figure high-school age. Aqualung is what used to be called a wino, and we know he’s also a lecher because the first line of his song is “Sitting on a park bench/ Eyeing little girls with bad intent.”
We did another Bob Seger hooker song (namely, “Fire Down Below”) one year ago today. 🙂
Yeah, Mary seems to be at the top of his age preference. Mary a high-schooler… could be. She’s old enough to get pregnant, as you point out, but she’s young enough to be on the school playground, which suggests middle school. I’m thinking twelve or thirteen, but could be as old as sixteen. Well, maybe she’ll earn enough to get her eyes fixed.
Have you used the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam for quotes for this category before?
That would be a poem rather than a song, and I’m mentally putting together a whore poem column. 😉
Thank you for “Cross Eyed Mary”. I admit it, I’m still a Jethro Tull fanatic.
That was my song when I was 15 – 16, and out on my own. I hadn’t joined the game yet, but was learning the shape of it, and considering.
From the song, I always get the feeling that Mary isn’t the prettiest girl. I felt that way. There I was, gawky, a ginger, pale, with an accent and glasses. Had a fake ID and was trying to be tough and grown up all at the same time while feeling very scared.
When I first came to the US, I found I knew nothing of typical rural American teen life. Certainly didn’t know the bands. But there was Jethro Tull, and some liked that band. I remember when they came to a city nearest, but miles away. I convinced an older guy to take me, because he had a car and could drive me. I only went with him so I could see my beloved Jethro Tull. And yes, I hummed “Cross-Eyed Mary” to myself after, during the obligatory fumbles in the dark car. I was learning, oh yes.
Hi Maggie,
I would really be interested on your opinion about this. As you know, I take the position that prostitution is lawful. A LOT of women have hated on me for saying THAT too.
The whole my body my choice abortion thing vs her body I should be able to tell her what to do reeks of hypocrisy. And women hate on me when I point that out too.
As you note…there are ENDLESS songs about prostitutes. One that you missed was “Private Dancer” by none less than Tina Turner.
My question is this, to you or any other women here.
Why is it that when a woman who is a “star” like Tina Turner sings a song like this that its GREAT but when a woman is actually a prostitute the other women attack her?
Its like the whole “pretty woman” thing. Julia Roberts plays a street hooker and this is all fine and dandy….but a REAL street hooker is to be hated on.
I mean. I see women go for some double standards but this reeks of such hypocrisy it’s really over the top.
My other question would be…how come sex workers don’t start denouncing the lies and hypocrisy that their sisters are so fond of putting about? It is the lies and hypocrisy that your sisters put about followed by the appeals to “white knights” to “save sex workers from their terrible fates” that has the police chasing you down in the first place.
Yes…us men will try and get to that issue with our new courts….but I do wonder why you let your sisters get away with such blatant hypocrisy. Thoughts?
I didn’t miss “Private Dancer”; it was in my last column on this subject, linked above.
You’re lumping all women together. Most women actually don’t have any problem with prostitutes, which is part of the reason movies with hooker heroines are popular; women who are anti-whore are a vocal minority and the more rabid among them DON’T think movies like Pretty Woman are “fine and dandy”. The only hypocrites are women like Demi Moore and Mira Sorvino, who make lots of money playing sex workers and then attack our livelihoods in real life.
As for sex workers denouncing prohibitionists, you’d have to have been asleep to have missed our protests, but the mainstream media gives us as little attention as possible because “trafficked sex slaves” sell more Viagra than boring ol’ civil rights protests. And I, for one, do not consider prohibitionists my sisters; they give up any claim to sisterhood by their constant efforts to marginalize and libel us and to inflict violence on our clients.
“Raised on Robbery” Joni Mitchell.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wein,_Weib_und_Gesang
Well, this did start as a chorale waltz on the topic, but I don’t think they do the sing alongs anymore.
This morning I was enjoying a cup at my favorite coffee shop and the followng came on:
Got a whale of a tale to tell ya, lads
A whale of a tale or two
‘Bout the flapping fish and girls I’ve loved
On nights like this with the moon above
A whale of a tale and it’s all true,
I swear by my tatoo
There was Mermaid Minnie
Met her down in Madagascar
She would kiss me
Anytime that I would ask her
Then one evening
Her flame of love blew out
Blow me down and pick me up,
She swapped me for a trout!
Got a whale of a tale to tell ya, lads
A whale of a tale or two
‘Bout the flapping fish and girls I’ve loved
On nights like this with the moon above
A whale of a tale and it’s all true,
I swear by my tatoo
There was Typhoon Tessie
Met her on the coast of Java
When we kissed I
Bubbled up like molten lava
Then she gave me
The scare of my young life
Blow me down, and pick me up
She was the captain’s wife!
Got a whale of a tale to tell ya, lads
A whale of a tale or two
‘Bout the flapping fish and girls I’ve loved
On nights like this with the moon above
A whale of a tale and it’s all true,
I swear by my tatoo
Then there was Harpoon Hannah
Had a look that spelled out danger
My heart quivered when she whispered,
“I’m there, stranger”
Bought her trinkets
That sailors can’t afford
(Sailors can’t afford)
And when I spent my last red cent
She tossed me overboard!
Got a whale of a tale to tell ya, lads
A whale of a tale or two
‘Bout the flapping fish and girls I’ve loved
On nights like this with the moon above
A whale of a tale and it’s all true,
I swear by my tatoo!
From Walt Disney no less. I think the last time I heard that song I was a virgin.
Wow. Bestiality, adultery, and hooking.
[raises jug of rum to Walt]