Dig Deeper

From Adelaide, South Australia - 'Doctor DeSoto' unites experienced songwriters Mikey Green (multiple ARIA Award winners 'The Audreys'), Dave Pagano ('Gone To Earth'), Mark Lockwood ('The Milk'), and Mel Horsman ('The Martial Hearts', 'Highway 31').


Acoustic, tumbleweed tunes from the edge of town, alongside Polaroid pop with infectious vintage beats.


Call it what you will -

"The music explores a range of contemporary styles, yet there is this pervading sense of nostalgia – you feel that this is a band that has the ability to encompass all the good things about the sounds of another era in rock and roll. …. with instant likeability" - Wirra Creek Music




Dead Man’s Shoes


Hardly night

But hardly is your day done

Head is heavy with the worry and the heat of the sun

If you walk in a dead man’s shoes, you walk with the second hand blues

And you pull at the thread of yesterday’s news

In your dead man’s shoes


Walking ‘long

Wind drumming on the street signs

You might even hear a voice

In the wind chimes


If you walk in a dead man’s shoes, you walk with the second hand blues

Ever get the feeling that you’re drinking for two?

In your Dead man’s shoes


Bus ticket from Soho

Lyrics to Molly Malone

Funeral card of the last close friend

Directions how to get home

Coupon for a car wax

An Alamo souvenir pen

A six digit number for escort services

And a message to please call again…


Clueless, keyless, suit jacket, old cigarette

Through a cloud of Old Spice

Comes a real sharp vest

If you walk in a dead man’s shoes, you walk with the second hand blues

And you pull at the thread of yesterday’s news

In your dead man’s shoes

Ever get the feeling that you’re drinking for two?

In your Dead man’s shoes

And you pull at the thread of yesterday’s news

In your dead man’s…


Art To It


It’s something that you tell yourself

It’s something that you tell yourself, to keep from coming unwound

Yeah you tell yourself

That if I keep moving there’ll be no way they can bring me down


I tell you there’s an art to it

You’ve got to put your heart into it

Medicated sleep maybe

Bury things deep baby


If I’m fooling myself

So be it, I’ve got no-one else

Backing me, or ringing my bell


I tell you there’s an art to it

You’ve got to put your heart into it

Medicated sleep maybe

Bury things deep baby


It’s something that you tell yourself

It’s something that you tell yourself, to keep from coming unwound

Yeah you tell yourself

That if I keep moving there’ll be no way they can bring me down


I tell you there’s an art to it

You’ve got to put your heart into it

Medicated sleep maybe

Bury things deep baby


So I’ve learned to push on

Smoke and mirrors, beers and song

Walk the line, carry on


It’s something that you tell yourself

It’s something that you tell yourself, to keep from coming unwound

Yeah you tell yourself

That if I keep moving there’ll be no way they can bring me down

Yeah you tell yourself

It’s something that you tell yourself, to keep from coming unwound

Yeah you tell yourself

That if I keep moving there’ll be no way they can bring me down


I tell you there’s an art to it

You’ve got to put your heart into it

Medicated sleep maybe

Bury things deep baby…



The Chills


Do you remember the buzz of the new

The thrill of the cold air as it cuts right through?

Well I’m a curious man

I don’t remember what got you through

Was it a song that no-one else knew?

Well that’s good for you


But I just don’t get the chills, no more


Do you remember the buzz of the new

The thrill of the cold air as it cuts right through?

Well I’m a cynical man

I don’t remember what curled your toes

Was it a song that no-one else knows

Well that’s just how it goes


But I just don’t get the chills, no more


Did it make you jump

Hit you between the eyes?

I don’t remember but it sounds real nice

Did it light the corners

Of a dim, dark place in time?

Well that’s fine

But I just may be too far…


Do you remember the buzz of the new

The thrill of the cold air as it cuts right through?

Well I’m a curious man

I don’t remember what got you through

Was it a song that no-one else knew?

Well that’s good for you


But I just don’t get the chills, no more


Do you remember the buzz of the new

The thrill of the cold air as it cuts right through?

Well I’m a cynical man

I don’t remember what curled your toes

Was it a song that no-one else knows

Well that’s just how it goes


But I just don’t get the chills, no more


Did it make you jump

Hit you between the eyes?

I don’t remember but it sounds real nice

Did it light the corners

Of a dim, dark place in time?

Well that’s fine

But I just may be too far, gone.



Landlocked


Too many people, I just don’t go to town

Revolution, hangs like a cloud

Be my Saint Anthony for the lost and unfound


Walk me, ‘cross the square real slow

Talk me, through the vertigo

Walk me, ‘cross the square real slow

Talk me, through the vertigo

Landlocked in my own town


I have moments of clarity when nothing seems to bother me

And I get on alright

The sticks and the stones and the default on my loan

Don’t bother me at all

But then the wide open spaces

And the strangers’ crooked faces

They pull me back in to my piano and my gin, again


Too many people between me and the sea

And I’ve tried to live, chemical free

Be my navigator be my tail breeze


Walk me, ‘cross the square real slow

Talk me, through the vertigo

Walk me, ‘cross the square real slow

Talk me, through the vertigo

Landlocked in my own town



Government Crackdown


What you lookin’ at me for?

Don’t you hear it, the creaking of the neighbour’s screen door

Bending my mind out of shape and rattling my nerves


It’s the buzz of the high tension wires

It’s the smell of the brush fence fires

I made the call, and soon you’ll all be

Selling up, moving on


Still waiting for a government crackdown

Still waiting for the government

And if I can’t get satisfaction

I’ll bring it down


Rage against the sea and sun

I’ve invested two streets from the beach

Not one to suffer fools

But no-one takes my calls anymore


It’s a street of strangers and liars

It’s the smell of the brush fence fires

I made the call, and soon you’ll all be

Selling up, moving on


Still waiting for a government crackdown

Still waiting for the government

And if I can’t get satisfaction

I’ll bring it down


Oh I’ll bring it down

Oh I’ll bring it down

Oh I’ll bring it down


What you lookin’ at me for?

Don’t you hear it, the creaking of the neighbour’s screen door

Bending my mind out of shape and rattling my nerves


It’s the buzz of the high tension wires

It’s the smell of the brush fence fires

I made the call, and soon you’ll all be

Selling up, moving on


Still waiting for a government crackdown

Still waiting for the government

And if I can’t get satisfaction

I’ll bring it down



Red Hatbox


I’ve got a two room flat by the tourist strip

It’s not much to look at but it has a grip on me

I’ve got job prospects, yeah I’ve got time

And I’ve always got change for a cheap red wine or two


I’ve got one foot in the future, man

I’ve got my summers worked out

And my Fridays planned


But this red hatbox of letters

Some of them are read

Some best left...

I’ve got a favourite bar and it serves ‘til three

With a short walk home, that’s good for me yeah

There’s a lot of sweet faces and the coffee’s good

There’s not much I’d change if I could


I’ve got one foot in the future, you know

And I hear a lot of good songs, from the street below


But this red hatbox in the corner of the room

Is still unopened since the day I moved...


I’ve got a two room flat by the tourist strip

It’s not much to look at but it has a grip

I’ve got one foot in the future, man

I’ve got my summers worked out

And my Fridays planned

But this red hatbox of letters

Some of them are read

Some best left

I’ve got one foot in the future, you know

And I hear a lot of good songs, from the street below


But this red hatbox in the corner of the room

Is still unopened since the day I moved...



Breaking Wheel


You pick up the sell

You pick things up well

You pick up on the way the mood changes

You pick up pieces

And rearrange

Your vices

At least those that you can handle

Some with real potential

To get you nowhere but back where you began


So nothing’s changed

The more things change, the more they stay the same

You’ve been on the Breaking Wheel


So here’s your chance, to put in place

What it takes to clean the slate

To get you up and on the run  

Living again

Looking to the front

Fire in the heart



Comet or a Cold Spell


Will I hear it ringing like a mission bell

Will it come like a comet, or a cold spell

See I’m no good at seeing the signs

I need a kick in the shins

And this four line rhyme

So give it to me one more time



ah, ah ah, tell me one more time

ah, ah ah, tell me one more time


Will somebody raise the flag

Do they tell you when it’s time to collect your bag

Will it float downstream from another place

With a note attached, they’re just too kind to tell you to your face,


ah, ah ah, tell me one more time

ah, ah ah, tell me one more time



Shake It On Through (He Don’t Dance)


If you, feel more at home in the sea

But your man is of the city and looks a little pale like me


If he don’t dance, and he don’t sing

And you’ve never seen him giving in

To what the music brings….


Put a little spice in his red beans and rice

Tell him there’s no reason not to play nice

It’s all in the hips and he’s got them too

He should take sip of courage and shake it on through


Dance it like a jitterbug king

The Samba or the Texas Swing

or whatever the music brings


Yeah he’ll catch on, if you walk him through

If he don’t move it he’ll lose it and he’ll lose you too

Cos you knocked back all those offers on the way to the bar

At least that’s what you tell him


If he don’t dance, and he don’t sing

And you’ve never seen him giving in

To what the music brings….


You got him started with a shuffle and a kick of the heel

Now you’ve got him rolling on all four wheels

There’s no stopping the man he’s got that gold tooth grin

All it took is a friend who knows how to spin


Now he’s dancing like a jitterbug king

The Samba and the Texas Swing

and whatever the music brings



Paperback Parade


She was known for cutting through red tape
with her old-fashioned bone handle knife

She opened a café, and the very same day

Put in a window to the west end lights


She was a magnet to the artists, the poets and the posers

And the yellowed paperback parade

She brought some wrought iron chairs, and her grandmother’s flair for

A recipe that couldn’t be named


Oh how they loved her

And they wanted her to be, to be the one


She kissed their heads and kept them fed and let them lay about

And dream big all night and all day

They loved the flick of her wrist

And the way she left so many, with nothing left to say


But one day she moved on, like the last verse in a song

There was a fear that things had come to a close

They asked around, they couldn’t see her

They began to think they’d dreamed her

From the pages, of this paperback prose


Oh how they loved her

And they wanted her to be, to be the one


But one day she moved on, like the last verse in a song

There was a fear that things had come to a close

They asked around, they couldn’t see her

They began to think they’d dreamed her

From the pages, of this paperback prose

They asked around, they couldn’t see her

They began to think they’d dreamed her

From the pages, of this paperback prose



(I heard they) Bottle It Now


If you hunger like a wanderer

Pushing shit uphill

Here in city, punch-clocks and D-pills

Lift your record needle, think you might have missed

Some kind of sign, while you were too busy

Getting pissed


Oh don’t wait

It won’t fall from above

I heard they bottle It now?

No, that’s some new kind of love

I heard they bottle it now...

You’ve been fooled again


If you hunger like a wanderer

Stuck on basement two

Here in the city with you

Same Friday crew

Lift your record needle, think you might have missed

Some kind of sign, while you were too busy

Getting pissed


Oh don’t wait

It won’t fall from above

I heard they bottle It now?

No, that’s some new kind of love

I heard they bottle it now...

You’ve been fooled again


If you hunger like a wanderer

Looking for a change

Here in the city, it’s too hard to gauge

Lift your record needle, think you might have missed

Some kind of sign, while you were too busy

Getting pissed


Oh don’t wait

It won’t fall from above

I heard they bottle It now?

No, that’s some new kind of love

I heard they bottle it now...

You’ve been fooled again


You’ve been pushin, pushin it uphill

If you hunger like a wanderer

You’ve been pushin, pushin

You’ve been pushin, pushin it uphill

If you hunger like a wanderer...



Lock and Key


Keep your sentimentals

Under lock and key

Light fingers, long legs

Don’t take your eye of me


I’ve got the skills to pay the bills

What I don’t got’s the degree

When moon replaces sun

My dog pack runs

And I get all that I need, I need baby


They told you not to to turn your back

They told me you would turn me loose

But love is not a one way track


And now, I’m under, lock and key


You forgave my sailor tongue

And contempt for everyone

Light fingers, long legs

I just left you crumbs


I’ve got the skills to pay the bills

What I don’t got’s the degree

When moon replaces sun

My dog pack runs

And I get all that I need, I need baby


They told you not to to turn your back

They told me you would turn me loose

But love is not a one way track


And now, I’m under, lock and key


They told you not to to turn your back

They told me you would turn me loose

But love is not a one way track


And now, I’m under, lock and key

Nowm I’m under, lock and key



Torchlight Song


So she woke one night

And left in the dark

Signed off with a stranger’s kiss


I know this scene, yeah I’ll play the man

In a low-lit film from a sun-starved land

Where the story and the light go hand-in-hand


She said;

I guess you won’t want it

But this could right the wrongs

Will you carry this torchlight song?


So the tea leaves told her to

Pick up the pieces and run

Who to blame, it’s the way we were


Packed her bags and her recipes

Took an apple from the neighbour’s tree

Took the train, but left her song with me


She said;

I guess you won’t want it

But this could right the wrongs

Will you carry this torchlight song?

But I’ve carried it far too long


So the tea leaves told her to

Pick up the pieces and run

Who to blame, it’s the way we were


Packed her bags and her recipes

Took an apple from the neighbour’s tree

Took the train, but left her song with me


She said;

I guess you won’t want it

But this could right the wrongs

Will you carry this torchlight song?

But I’ve carried it far too long

Yes I’ve carried it far too long



Sweet Potato Jam


Sweet potato jam

Sweet potato jam

Cane sugar, nutmeg and vanilla bean

Cinnamon stick, Grandma knows the trick

For two dollars you can see what she means


Sellin’ on the sidewalk

You should hear the neighbours talk

It’s the cure for all your ills


Eat it with a silver spoon

Under a full moon

Do away with all your pills


Butterscotch beer

Butterscotch beer

Brown bottles stacked on a greenhouse shelf

Grandpa makes the brew, but he won’t sell to you

Oh no he keeps it all to himself


Drink it on a rainy day

Keep it out the children’s way

It’s a purely medicinal brew, son


Drink it from a tin cup

A second one for good luck

Depending on your constitution


Sweet potato jam

Sweet potato jam

Cane sugar, nutmeg and vanilla bean

Cinnamon stick, Grandma knows the trick

For two dollars you can see what she means


Sellin’ on the sidewalk

You should hear the neighbours talk

It’s the cure for all your ills


Eat it with a silver spoon

Under a full moon

Do away with all your pills


Drink it from a tin cup

A second one for good luck

Depending on your constitution



Made To Order


Big voice in a little sea

She’s knocking them over

1,2,3

She’s a local kid who seems to have the key


With a face pure as mother’s milk

Motivational tapes and a voice to kill for

A worry to some, but she’ll come good, yeah


She’s gonna shake the tag of the difficult daughter

Cos if there’s one thing that the TV taught her

It’s that stars aren’t born, they’re made to order


Her father tells stories of Rita Hayworth

She doesn’t know who that is

Thinks he’s making it worse

He says the camera caught her shimmy-shake

And that’s what brought on the ‘Frisco quake

And Hollywood burns the ones that don’t break first


She’s gonna shake the tag of the difficult daughter

Cos if there’s one thing that the TV taught her

It’s that stars aren’t born, they’re made to order




‘Chills No More’

available now through iTunes

>here<

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