Cool Your Jets

by Patrolled By Radar

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DIED WITH MONEY (J. Souza) i died with money on the i-team there's no me in shame kept my guns on all night long when they read my name there were those who thought i had a few loose scruples still others knew a fiend with bad form they traded tales of how I'd done them wrong i was never seen as warm but i died with money i left the giant fox to root out the witches took the elephant ride with king james i never felt the need to get along i may now be in flames but i died with money
GRAIN OF SAND (J. Souza) mental illness doesn't run in your family it crawls quietly give them a goodbye kiss you don't need currency come to the city i make plenty of green at the village idiot bar i live above a dry cleaner to the stars and i've got room for you here scratch ticket tears on the bar shaving years off with a nickel with a dime obituary readers and fat bottom feeders drinkers thinkin in the day time outside a bicycle messenger dodges cars i fear the ghost of a dream that once was ours inside i wish for you to be here you better get out while you can you're a pretty little grain of sand pretty little grain of sand
Rally 02:35
RALLY (J. Souza) bathe in the unsavory glow overthrown by microwaves come a day you will be saved and seldom seen have you ever wanted to know how to get out of here take a road take a wave take a stream take a friend hold your hands in a circle when you can't get squared away hold your hands in a circle it's not the end of the world it's just the end of the day rally round the bubble machine you know the air is clean inside each one it takes one to know one's gonna stay hold your hands in a circle when you can't get squared away hold your hands in a circle it's not the end of the world it's just the end of the day we had it wrong all along
Lost Cause 03:16
LOST CAUSE (J. Souza) keep your shirt on cool your jets you've been running fast enough ain't seen nothing yet is your mind gone disappeared you ain't seen the last of love cause it's standing here where anybody can sing sing a hallelujah find a lost cause keep a thought in your head gonna right the whole thing now gonna get out of bed lunatic like a time bomb gonna give you a kiss on the surface we're remaining calm gonna get out of this anybody can sing sing a hallelujah
El Norte 04:38
EL NORTE (J. Souza) mama used to fill in at the donkey show she said you're half a jackass i think you should go you know the pure will kill you if you stay send us money from the u.s.a. take your broken heart to el norte mad hallucinations on the border run before a water station in the desert sun i got run down by a militia guard the sand drank up his blood i sped away across the border in his chevrolet i miss you mama you told me i should go written on the inside of your mind's eyelid all you ever said and all you ever did la raza nunca llora y yo estoy aquí (the race never cries and i am here) el amor sobre el dinero para mí (love over money for me) i miss you mama you told me i should go
Fool 02:26
FOOL (J. Souza) born on the very first day of a month between march and may down a primrose path i took i saw wool everywhere i looked deaf and blind to your every admonition hello it's me simple simon's son don't you know a fool when you see one bound to love and leap before i looked i believed in every hand i shook now my faith's been replaced with dismay and counterfactualistic repartee came a time when i could see my own reflection i know it's me i know what i've done don't you know a fool when you see one
Hate Talkin' 01:55
HATE TALKIN' (J. Souza) you've never had an original thought in your whole life and you're a low life you're fat you're no fun when you let your mouth run you're a big yawn you sound like a moron but wait i'm not through i really hate talkin to you you're a loud ass clown why don't you flush yourself down you'll be doing the right thing if you should reproduce it would be child abuse i say spare us your offspring wait i'm not through i really hate talkin to you i wish you the worst nobody cares how you're feeling you might think so but we're concealing what we know to be true really hate talkin to you
DO YOU KNOW A LOVE SONG (J. Souza) do you know a love song one that rights all wrong where all good intentions keeps our powder dry where we could subsist just on this contact high don't say you weren't cryin you know i could hear you on the last day of summer i want to be near you this world's changing form how will we ever keep warm do you know a love song do you know a love song there's got to be one we can sing when we can't get along don't say you're not leavin i've got a gut feelin cause everyone's buying you drinks kiss me on the head and then leave me for dead do you know a love song do you know a love song there's got to be one we can sing when we can't get along
Velocipede 03:47
VELOCIPEDE (J. Souza) we are adept at building bridges we've strained relations with the man we are of faith but not religious we have an exorcism planned so don't delay or you'll be sorry ideas are walking off to war don't you know your mind's a quarry and that's all we're living for so weld your own velocipede turn your fuel cells to the sky universal donors bleed to save the under-qualified we've several rebel farms that feed us they're raising locusts in their labs monsanto's monster wants to eat us they're taking names and keeping tabs so keep clandestine all our efforts and we'll keep sunshine in our souls we are in dire need of converts whose roots are deep in rock n roll weld your own velocipede
Ghosts 02:44
GHOSTS (R. Newman) Stay with me for a little while You've nowhere to go And I've nowhere to go It makes me so happy When you smile At me Work all your life And you end up with nothing Live in one room like a bum Once I flew in a plane And I fought in a war We lived in a castle And slept on the floor And I don't want to be All alone anymore I'm sorry Out in the street There's little colored kids playing Where my own little boy used to play So I sit in this chair And I ache with the gout And I talk to myself 'Cause I'm scared to go out And I just want to know What was it all about I'm sorry


Album Review by Dennis Cook - Dirty Impound

Put on Cool Your Jets, the new album from under-sung Los Angeles club veterans Patrolled By Radar, and the longer it spins the more it casts a spell, the ideal band for an imaginary saloon where Highway 61 Revisited-era Dylan hobnobs with a fresh faced Doug Sahm and a gaggle of curious night dwellers shuffling contentedly as they try to make sense of this wicked world.

Patrolled By Radar moves with barroom honed muscle, a group that’s earned their stripes fighting for attention over clinking glasses, cell phone tapping, and post-work chatter. And PBR’s songs really do snag one’s focus, though often in sly ways, the fun and skip of them in the foreground with all sorts of cool, thoughtful bits bouncing around in the background. This band swings hard but backs up their punches with brains and a well-seasoned perspective on the ways of men.

That their latest release ends with a pitch perfect rendition of Randy Newman’s “Ghosts” just signals songwriter-singer-guitarist Jay Souza’s kinship with that insightfully jaundiced, perversely romantic American treasure. Souza uses language with the same humor dipped scalpel sharpness as Newman with occasional flashes of genuine good humor – “Rally” on the new album is a shit-day mood-enhancer of the highest order. And the whole band – Bosco Sheff (guitar), Preston Mann (organ, piano), Ben Johnsen (drums, vocals) and Peter Curry (bass) – serves the songs in an integrated way that’s short on solos and long on a warmly enveloping group dynamic.
Cool Your Jets reminds one of Americana’s first great flowering, an album that sits comfortably next to Wilco’s A.M., The Jayhawks’ Hollywood Town Hall and Son Volt’s Trace – all worthy descendents of the roots-influenced, energized, off-handedly skillful rock tributary stemming from The Band. Like the best children of Levon, Robbie, et al. Patrolled By Radar possesses a unique, hard to pin down individual spark, extenders of a tradition rather than mimics, where something heartfelt and quietly moving wanders the curved roads and smoky haunts of their tunes. Heck, even ol’ Lawrence Welk makes a champagne cameo so you know it’s good!


released July 29, 2017

RJ BLOKE vocals guitar
PRESTON MANN organ piano
BEN JOHNSEN drums vocals

all songs written by RJ Bloke except "Ghosts" by R. Newman
engineered/recorded/mixed by Peter Curry
at Powow Fun Room, Los Angeles, CA
mastered by Preston Mann
artwork Merry Young - Mutiny Studios, Portland, OR


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Patrolled By Radar Los Angeles, California

Los Angeles based
Original Rock n Roll, Alt-Country, Blues, Dystopian Americana - RJ Bloke (Vocals, Guitar) - Mike Sobel (Guitar) - Mick McCurdy (Drums)

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