In my collage apartment (which was shared by 5 guys named Moe) back in 1982, there were two things that sat up on the living room mantel. One was a pile of change which everyone contributed to when they got home, and the other was the turn table which often had this album spinning on it. Long before the neo-swing trend of the late ’90s, Joe Jackson bucked his punk roots and delivered this fine collection of toe tappin’ finger snappin’ gems, from an era gone bye, as tight and well oiled as if the King of Swing, the Duke himself, were in the room when they were laid down. This was one of the many soundtrax in that apartment, and once a buck ten in change was collected, one of us would run out to the ‘Stop and Rob’ down the street and pick up a pack of smokes. The rest of the night would be spent playing Speed Monopoly or just running our mouths until the last of those community squares were extinguished.
Boys – take it right on down to the gator
Oh boys – gotta take a side elevator
Can’t you hear those hip cats call
Come on boys let’s have a ball
The jip-jam-jump is a jumpin’ jive
Makes you dig your jive on the mellow side…