Make Up Your Mind, Baby Mama ©

The story — in my words

I wrote this one because I was missing that raw, unpolished energy of the mid-50s rockabilly scene. I wanted to capture the smell of motor oil mixed with the talc powder we used to throw on the hardwood floors so we could slide easier while we danced. When we cut this in the studio, I told the band to imagine we were in a roadside dive bar with a jukebox that only played records that made the glass rattle. We kept the tempo pushing right on the edge of falling apart, just like a hot rod racing down a backroad. It’s a tribute to the girls like Miss May who could out-dance and out-drive anyone in the county. We didn't overthink it; we just let the motor roar and kept the record spinning.