Indoor Safari, by Nick Lowe & Los Straitjackets (2024)

1.

I went to a partyIt was jumping and I went for it heartyI had on my bad suitStarted jigging to the one with the jazz fluteI told myself I wouldn’t stay lateJust put my face ‘round the doorNext time I looked it was coming on quarter to fourAnd my feet were getting soreI went to a partyIt was like an indoor safari‘Round a waterhole of CampariAnd I feel alright, whoaYes, I feel alright nowI went to a partyI was circulating ‘round pretty smartlyYou could say it was high-toneBut I was representing the low zoneYes I wasA man came upSaid “I’ve got all your stuffIt’s just sublimeBut for me your best is Propeller Time”I said, “Where do I sign?”I went to a partyI went to a partyI went to a partyOut of the blue they started to play the DJ’s new ideaA voice in my head saidMaybe it’s time to get out of hereIt’s very clearIt’s been fun but it’s time to cut alongI went to a partyI went to a partyI went to a partyI went to a party

2.

I woke up early with love starvationHugging my pillow all alone in a rickety bedBaby, if it’s any consolationThe needle’s in the redIt only hit me when I went by a mirrorThat’s when I saw what was written all over my faceI’m suffering love starvationA very bad caseI’ll tell you something about love starvationIt’s like a prison in your mind you’re locked up inDisappointment, desperationYour two old friendsMake it stop, make it stopIf only I could turn back the clockMake it so, make it so‘Cause I tell you that I can’t exist in a world like thisShow me a love that comes in colorsOr even one I can dream in black and whiteAny love is better than no loveSo any love’s rightMake it stop, make it stopIf only I could turn back the clockMake it so, make it so‘Cause I tell you that I can’t exist in a world like thisI woke up early with love starvationHugging my pillow all alone in a rickety bedBaby, if it’s any consolationThe needle’s in the redThe needle’s in the redLove starvation, babyIt’s got me on the back footIt’s put me in a dark and lonely placeIt’s got me never knowingIf I’m ever going to start living againLove starvation, babyLove, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love

3.

I’m standing in a jolly crowdJoking, laughing a little too loudLooking like the model of a man that’s got it madeBut my repartee is just to disguiseAll the hurt I’m trying to hide‘Cause I’m cryingI’m cryingCrying insideI’m sitting in a restaurantA few old friends in a favorite hauntAnd I’m wearing a suit of deepest blueI’ve been wise-cracking like the good old daysBut pretty soon I’m gonna slip awayAnd walk myself right back to my lonely roomEverybody knows a man’s not supposed to cryIf you look at my face you’ll see my cheek is dryI wish sometimes they’d cut me some slack‘Cause they don’t know, while they’re slappin’ my backI’m cryingCry, cry, cryCrying insideWhoa here comes the tearsCry again, cry againWell everybody knows a man’s not supposed to cry, cry, cry, crySo behind this grin I’m holding it in up until I say goodbyeWell I wish sometimes they’d cut me some slack‘Cause they don’t know while they’re slappin’ my backI’m cryingCry, cry, cryCrying insideNobody knows I’m cryingCrying insideI’m the life and the soul of the party sometimesBut I’m crying insideCrying insideCrying insideCrying inside

4.

Hey, Eddie! Eddie Angel!Lady, lady, lady, why do you holler?Nobody’s seen your Johnny DollarI can't get no sleep in this noisy streetI've got to moveI've got to find a quiet placeThere's a man next door with a radioAnd he plays it all through the nightThere's a couple in the apartment above my headThey do nothing but fuss and fightI can't get no sleep in this noisy streetI've got to move (I've got to move)I've got to find some quietI can't get no sleep in this noisy streetI've got to move (I've got to move)I've got to find a quiet placeFind a quiet placeBut tell me, where do you go when you got no dough?There must be a way outta hereI've got to find some peace of mindThere must be a place that I can findLady, lady, lady, why do you holler?Nobody’s seen your Johnny DollarThere's a cat that gets under my windowAnd meows all the timeThere's a drunk that wakes me in the middle of the nightSinging “Sweet Caroline”I can't get no sleep in this noisy streetI've got to move (I've got to move)I've got to find some quietI can't get no sleep in this noisy streetI've got to move (I've got to move)I've got to find a quiet placeFind a quiet placeFind a quiet placeFind a quiet placeI can't get no sleepIn this noisy streetI've got to move

5.

Blue on blueI’ve got a message in a song for youYou’re like a mill, you run me throughI call you blue on blueBlue on blueYou’re only happy when you see me cryI oughta leave, but how can ITied to blue on blueBlue on blueHow has it come to thisYour kiss is my one true desireI long each waking hour for youBlue on blueI’ve got a message in a song for youI call you blue on blueI can’t sleepFor all the promises you don’t keepI wanna run but I’m in too deepToo deep for blue on blueIn my mindI’m on the end of a ball of twineThat she jerks from time to timeTime for blue on blueBlue on blueHow has it come to thisYour kiss is my one true desireI long each waking hour for youBlue on blueI’ve got a message in a song for youYou’re like a mill, you run me throughI call you blue on blueI call you blue on blueI call you blue on blueI call you, call you blue on blueBlue, blue, blueBlue, blue, blueOh blue, blue, blue

6.

What can you doWhen you can’t get throughTo a bad babyOne that’ll run you round like a taxi rideEach time I quit I get nowhere fastShe works some kind of magic until at lastShe’s got me running backLike a jet pac boomerangWhat can you sayWhen you can’t keep awayFrom a bad, bad, bad babyYou better believe you’re gonna hang your head and cryEach time I say, “That’s it, I’m done”She’s got a way of going “whoa, come on”That gets me running backLike a jet pac boomerangYes but when she says she loves meAngel choirs singStars come out in the daytimeAnd I forgive her everythingI ask her is it trueYou only make me blue, baby‘Cause you know that I’ll be backLike a jet pac boomerangYes but when she says she loves meI hear a symphony beginBut then the music fades awayAnd the heartaches start againI ask her is it trueYou only make me blue, baby‘Cause you have me running backLike a jet pac boomerang(Boomerang, boomerang)Can’t help myself(Boomerang, boomerang)I’m in the grip of a spell it seems(Boomerang, boomerang)I’ve got zero willpower(Boomerang, boomerang)Woe and misery(Boomerang, boomerang, boomerang)I mean she really done a job on me(Boomerang, boomerang, boomerang)Bad, bad, bad, bad baby now(Boomerang, boomerang, boomerang)Last night I said these words to my girl

7.

I’ll be a long gone daddy when they find my noteBut just for the record this is what I wroteI’m relocating to a foreign shoreYou won’t have me to kick around no moreYou can’t make me stayI’m leaving todayIt’s anchors aweighI’m shipping out to Tokyo BayThere’s a solemn little geisha pining for meUnder a parasol out on the quayShe knows I’m coming from beyond the seaAnd she’s hoping and a-praying most ferventlyThat today’s the day I come smoking into Tokyo BayI’ll find a liner, then my planTo work my ticket as some kind of handMaybe picking up after the cabaret bandAnything to get my toes in the sands of Tokyo BayWell in a dim dockside canteen I knowWith my collar turned up and my cap down lowAll dressed up like a matelotI got my grip in my hand packed ready to goI’ll be long gone daddy when they find my noteBut just for the record this is what I wroteYou, you, you can’t make me stayI’m leaving todaySo glad to sayI’m heading up the gangwayBound for Tokyo BayTokyo BayI’ll be long gone daddyBe long gone daddyLong, long gone daddyLong gone daddySo longThat’s all I wrote

8.

Trombone, come play your songMake it the one about good love gone wrongI’m so blue and all aloneSo blow something sad and slow for me, tromboneI’ve been told time's a healerStill I can’t shake the love I lostIt seems my destiny’s to count the costNo one calls, who can blame ‘emThey’re all out of sympathyLord, how I could use some companyAt times like these some sweet releaseTrombone, come play your songMake it the one about good love gone wrongMy one true love has goneSo blow something sad and slow for me, tromboneI should be on the road to gloryNot this barren, bleak terrainI pray I’ll never be this way againSpilling from an upper storyComes a half-remembered melodyAnd I’m whistling the missing harmonyIn B, or C, oh pleaseTrombone, come play your songMake it the one about good love gone wrongI’m so, so blue and all aloneSo oil up your slide tromboneMy one true love has goneI’m sitting here in limbo, dearI need you nearTromboneTromboneTrombone

9.

I know this kind of feelingI’ve had to sit it out a time or twoUsually it comes aroundWhen dawn’s cruel light’s breaking throughBut over youIt’s a different kind of blueSad to say when it comes around these daysIt’s like an old friendThat’s moved into my addressIn a fog of hopelessness without endOver youIt’s a different kind of blueOver youI’m a different kind of blueI’m lonely and I miss you grievouslyIn the night especiallyWondering over youI know they say what’s done is doneAnd so if the love is goneMove alongThat’s the grownup thing to doI know this kind of feelingI’ve had to sit it out a time or twoUsually it comes aroundWhen dawn’s cruel light’s breaking throughSad to say when it comes around these daysIt’s like an old friendOver youIt’s a different kind of blueOver youA different kind of blueDifferent kind of blue this timeDifferent kind of blueDifferent kind of blue

10.

I'm gonna throw my raincoat in the riverGonna toss my umbrella in the seaThe sun's gonna shine like never beforeIt ain't gonna rain on me no more‘Cause my baby's comin' back to meSay, did you see my raincoat in the riverSinkin’ down, ever further out of sightFor each drop of rain that fell on my faceI know we'll share a sweet embrace‘Cause she'll be back in my arms tonightWell the rain kept drippin’, drip drop drippin'All the while she went awayBut all that’s stoppin’, no more drip drip droppin'Now she’s home to stay, so that's why I sayDid you see my raincoat in the riverSinkin’ down, ever further out of sightThat’s ‘cause she’ll be back in my arms tonightWell the rain kept drippin’, drip drop drippin'All the while she went awayBut all that’s stoppin’, no more drip drip droppin'Now she’s home to stay, so that's why I sayI'm gonna throw my raincoat in the riverGonna toss my umbrella in the seaThe sun's gonna shine like never beforeIt ain't gonna rain on me no more‘Cause my baby's comin' back to meWhoa, my baby's comin' back to meNo, no, no, no, no, no, noMy baby's comin' back to me

11.

Lay it on me, babyLay it on me ‘til it gets right under my skinAnd the merry mood I’m inMakes way for loveI’m walking these streets with a skip in my stepMy hat’s on the side of my headAll down to you I’m acting this wayJust like a fish in a babbling brookI’m nibbling at your hookDon’t let me be the one that got awayBecause you do something fundamental to meThat I can almost tasteWhen I get with it there’s not a minute I wanna wasteLay it on me, babyLay it on me ‘til the room begins to spinAnd the merry mood I’m inMakes way for loveYou can’t buy a day this sunnyNot for a tower of folding moneyI dare a cloud to rain on this paradeBecause bells start ringing and bluebirds singingAnd I stride the milky wayEverytime you give me the sign and look that wayLay it on me, babyLay it on me ‘til it gets right under my skinAnd the merry mood I’m inMakes way for loveLay it, lay it on me, babyLay it on me ‘til the room begins to spinAnd the merry mood I’m inMakes way for love

12.

Don’t be nice to meI’m undeserving of your kind attentionDon’t be nice to meBetter you pass me byI just put paid to the chance of love in a millionAnd if you’re nice to me you’ll only have me cryingDon’t be nice to meThank you for the invitationDon’t be nice to meSorry I can’t stayWhen I find a rock big enough for me to crawl underI’m gonna hang a sign outside to the world: “stay away”Don’t be nice to meIf only life could beLike a walk in the parkTo the trill of a lark on the wing on highDon’t be nice to me‘Cause I can’t guaranteeThat what you’ll findWon’t blow your mindIf you’re too kindDon’t be nice to meYes, I need a ride to the stationDon’t be nice to meBut I’d rather walk in the rain, yeahNow I know I’m acting like a big galootAnd it’ll all work out in timeBut if you’re nice to meGet ready to see me cryCry, cryCry and cryCry, babyDon’t be nice to me

Six years ago, the revered British artist and songwriter Nick Lowe had almost abandoned the idea of making another full-length album. The realities of the marketplace and the expense aside, Lowe was busy enjoying the more immediate “camaraderie and rewards” of touring with Los Straitjackets, those masked marvels who've been his fellow musical voyagers for the past decade. Together, they'd released a handful of EPs and singles between 2018-20. But Lowe saw those mostly as “souvenirs to let people know the store was still open.”

But this fall, Lowe returns with his first LP in over a decade - Indoor Safari. So what changed his mind?

“We've really got a style together now,” Lowe says. “When it started out, it was just to do shows. We had no thoughts of recording, really. But after a while, we started to attract an audience – and a much younger one. When we started noticing the younger fans, I realized my fate maybe wasn't to just keep playing the same old songs to the same old tubby ex-pub rockers (laughs). Suddenly, the whole thing started to get some bounce to it. Like, 'Wait a minute, this is really something.'”

The accumulated experience of touring also showed Lowe that Los Straitjackets were simpatico in ways that remind him of what he calls his “beloved old firm and gents' club,” the ace studio band behind the string of near-perfect career renaissance albums he made in the late 1990s and early 2000s (Lowe lost two of his closest “key oppos and friends” Bobby Irwin and Neil Brockbank, in 2015 and 2017, respectively).

“The Straitjackets like all kinds of music, and are very good, open-minded musicians, apart from being very agreeable people,” he says. “And they also have a sort of punk rock ethos, which, unfortunately, I do too. I've tried to shrug it off so many times, but I just can't get rid of it.”

Indeed, there's an immediacy and kinetic energy to the twelve mostly uptempo songs on Indoor Safari, with Lowe and Los Straitjackets buzzing from number to number. “Went to a Party” is a Kinks-style rave-up, “Crying Inside” is a classic happy-sad masquerade, grooving like some lost Ricky Nelson hit, “Blue on Blue” and “Jet Pac Boomerang” both deal cleverly with hearts in limbo. The Bacharach-flavored “Different Kind of Blue” is a loaded rose with the candid confession of “I can't afford the luxury of having you come back to me,” while “Trombone” and “Don't Be Nice to Me” possess the forlorn elegance and tunefulness that are Lowe trademarks. With his intimate baritone, he croons them all as if they're already standards. So much so that when he does land on two well-chosen covers, “A Quiet Place” and “Raincoat in the River,” the join is seamless.

Fans and keen-eared listeners will surely notice that there are reworkings of previously released songs here, including “Love Starvation” and “Trombone.” While there was nothing wrong with the initial recordings, many captured on days off while touring in whatever city they found themselves, Lowe viewed them more as documents - artist sketches before a final canvas. It’s an approach that goes back to Lowe’s earliest studio albums, with “Cruel to Be Kind” and “Heart of the City” undergoing similar creative makeovers.

“None of us really thought they were that inspiring,” he says. “They were lacking somehow in the sound quality, performance or atmosphere. And I felt maybe we'd sort of thrown away a few cool tunes. When it was suggested that we should do an actual full-length album, the songs had evolved, and had some air blown into them. After playing them in front of an audience a dozen times, the players know what they're doing and they start listening to everybody else, and adjusting their thing accordingly. And suddenly, hey, presto, you've got the sauce on it all!”

There were still logistical challenges to finishing the album, with Lowe residing in England and Los Straitjackets in the US. But the crew convened at Reliable Recorders in Chicago, with engineer Alex Hall (JD McPherson, The Cactus Blossoms) helping to glue everything together. “Alex is great in so many ways, and he put his stamp on it,” Lowe says. “There were some further adjustments, but at the end, I thought, 'When you hear the songs all together, it sounds of a piece, and you can't tell that it was all recorded over a period of five years.'”

And so, 2024 has become a little brighter with record number seventeen from Nick Lowe, who recently celebrated his diamond birthday (“I don't feel 75,” he says. “Yes, I do feel older, but in a sort of nice way”). Within a storied fifty-plus year career - Brinsley Schwarz, Rockpile, “Cruel to Be Kind,” “(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding,” collaborations with The Pretenders, Elvis Costello and Johnny Cash, modern classic albums that MOJO calls “stories of love and loss so beautifully simple that you'll never get to the bottom of them” - how does Lowe see Indoor Safari and the adventures ahead?

“My feeling is that the record is pretty good, actually,” he says. “I think there are some cuts on it which are really fabulous. Will I make more records? Well, if I can come up with some more cool tunes, I don't see why not.”

released September 13, 2024

2024 Nick Lowe Ltd. Under exclusive license to Yep Roc, LLC.

Nick Lowe: vocal & acoustic guitar
Eddie Angel: guitar & vocal
Pete Curry: bass
Chris Sprague: drums & vocal
Greg Townson: guitar

Produced by Nick Lowe
Mixed by Alex Hall & Nick Lowe at Reliable Recorders, Chicago, IL
Mastered by J.J. Golden at Golden Mastering, Ventura, CA

Photography: Dan Burn-Forti
Models: Natasha Hall & Sebastian Dykes at Laylow, Golborne Rd, London
Design & Art Direction Peta Waddington
Lettering: Nathan Golub
With thanks to Johnny Bartlett