Shall I mourn you decline with some thunderbird wineAnd a black hankercheif?I miss your sad Virginia whisperI miss the voice that called my heart
This song serves as a tribute to the American rock ‘n’ roll singer Gene Vincent, whom Dury was a fan from his teenage years. Dury’s love for Vincent began after hearing “Be-Bop-A-Lula” in the 1956 film The Girl Can’t Help It, and he remained a devoted fan throughout his life.
If you had to write a song about a great rock and roll legend…Vincent would be the guy. To get it right…Dury spent six weeks researching Vincent’s life, reading two biographies to write the song’s lyrics. His songwriting partner with this song was Chaz Jankel. Jankel has said he had to cut out a lot of lyrics otherwise it would have lasted 15 minutes. He also had references to some of Vincent’s songs.
Chaz Jankel was in a former band with Dury called The Kilburns and when they disbanded…he got together with Ian Dury as a co-songwriter. They wrote the band’s most successful single Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick, reaching number one on the UK Singles Chart in January 1979 as well as reaching the top three in Ireland, Australia, and New Zealand.
This song was released in 1977 from the album New Boots and Panties!! The song didn’t chart but the album peaked at #5 in the UK, #7 in New Zealand, and #168 on the Billboard Album Chart.
Sweet Gene Vincent
Blue gene babySkinny white sailor, the chances were slenderThe beauties were breifShall I mourn you decline with some thunderbird wineAnd a black hankercheif?I miss your sad Virginia whisperI miss the voice that called my heart
Sweet gene vincentYoung and old and goneSweet gene vincent
Who, who, who slapped john?White face, black shirtWhite socks, black shoesBlack hair, white stratBled white, died black
Sweet gene vincentLet the blue roll tonightAt the sock hop ball in the union hallWhere the bop is there delight
Here come duck-tailed Danny dragging Uncanny AnnieShe’s tehone with the flying feetYou can break the peace daddy sickle greaseThe beat is reet completeAnd you jump back honey in the dungereesTight sweater and a ponny tailWill you guess her age when she comes back stage?The hoodlems bite their nails
Black gloves, white frostBlack crepe, white leadWhite sheet, black knightJet black, dead white
Sweet gene vincentThere’s one in every townAnd the devil drives ’till the hurse arrivesAnd you lay that pistol down
Sweet gene vincentThere’s nowhere left to hideWith lazy skin and ash-tray eyesA perforated pride
So farewell mademoiselle, knicker-bocker hotelFarewell to money owedBut when your leg still hurts and you need more shirtsYou got to get back on the road
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