Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

by Bet Smith

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about

Bet Smith, with help from her amazing bandmates, Rob and Andrew Currie, and many talented friends, presents her first full-length alt-country release, "Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is."

The ten-song LP is an album inspired by the hard-working and under-appreciated folks who make the world go ‘round. Primarily written in farmers’ fields, construction sites and the back roads of rural Canada, this album reflects on Bet’s blue-collar years, labouring on small farms in British Columbia and welding on muddy hillsides in the Ontario bush.
Conversations had, overheard and imagined over long days in field and brush sparked new songs that were realized in full at Bet’s first opportunity to pick up a guitar at the end of a workday.

Whereas Bet’s 2015 folk EP, Loose Ends, was dark and cautionary, Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is relies on traditional country themes mixed with tongue-in-cheek humor to achieve a new level of accessibility with songs written about love, broken hearts, working hard, being poor just the same, and lessons learned on a bar stool: ten songs she hopes will speak to the backbone of rural North America, and lovers of Alt-Country and Americana.

The LP’s first single, Bakesale Angel, BBQ Queen is a comical song about good-old-fashioned kitchen rivalry: competition that erupts between a jealous girlfriend and her beau’s ex. The tune was imagined up while Bet shovelled manure on a good friend’s farm – the friend being an enviably excellent cook.
The recording features Miranda Mulholland of The Great Lake Swimmers on fiddle and Aaron Goldstein of Daniel Romano and the Trilliums on pedal steel. Bet’s hometown allies, The Currie Brothers hold it all together with Andrew Currie on drums and brother Rob on bass and percussive electric guitar. As a final touch, Bet talked the boys into a pots-and-pans percussion track to compliment the theme of the song. The second tune – Get In Line – from which comes the album’s title, “put your money where your mouth is,” was thought up while Bet did menial chores on a cattle farm and allowed her mind to wander to a bar interaction between a farm girl and a fake cowboy.

credits

released July 12, 2016

Produced by Rob Currie in Gravenhurst, Ontario
All songs written by Bet Smith

Musicians:
BET SMITH: Vocals, Acoustic Guitar,
Hammond Organ, Pot
ANDREW CURRIE: Drums, Percussion,
Banjo, Mandolin, Pots and Pans
ROB CURRIE: Bass, Electric Guitar, Backup Vocals
MIRANDA MULHOLLAND: Fiddle
AARON GOLDSTEIN: Pedal Steel
STEPHEN McCLELLAN: Cello
CODY THOMPSON: Duet Vocals
BLAIR SMITH: Backup vocals
LIA LIDSTONE: Clapping, and Stomping
LUKE THOMPSON: Clapping and Stomping

Mastered by STEPHEN STEPANIC at
Joao Carvalho Mastering in Toronto, Ontario

Copyright 2016, Bet Smith. SOCAN/ASCAP

Songs on this album were written in both Ontario and British Columbia, usually outdoors and often while working the land in gardens and on farms and homesteads of family and friends.

Thank you so much to all of the brilliant people involved in the making of this album, and the wonderful folks who have shown me so much support in the past year. I am so grateful to you.
Thank you to the Currie Brothers. Where would I be without you?

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about

Bet Smith Gravenhurst, Ontario

Bet Smith has shoveled manure, welded, built film sets, carved signs, fed cattle, planted gardens and tended bar to pay for her bad habit - music. Add to that an arts degree and a diploma in blacksmithing and foundry craft, years living in the heart of Toronto and others in an off-grid cabin in rural BC and you have yourself a treasure chest of stories, shaped like a thirty-year-old woman. ... more

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Track Name: Bakesale Angel, BBQ Queen
Bakesale Angel, BBQ Queen

Well, who needs a woman that good in the kitchen?
That girl was just a heart attack waiting to happen
Fresh corn bread, maple-baked beans
You won’t miss that county BBQ Queen

Well you don’t want a girl up first in the morning
Clankin’ in the kitchen when you ought to be snoring
Pancake batter over everything and
Crash, bang, boom, rattle, ding-dong, ping

Apple pie, food galore, I can’t take this anymore
When’s that woman gonna get a life?
Step back Betty, put down that knife

Well you don’t want a girl with a penchant for bakin’
Isn’t she sick of the die-hard tradition?
Woman’s place is no longer the kitchen
Hasn’t she heard of Kentucky Fried Chicken?

Apple pie, food galore, I can’t take this anymore
When’s that woman gonna get a life?
Step back Betty, put down that knife

Well, you don’t want a girl with a greased-up frying pan
She’s gonna make you a stuffed and sorry man
It’s good to get out while you can

Oh bake-sale angel, why you puttin’ me through Hell?
How do you make such a damned good meal?
The way it looks and tastes and smells?
I can’t even do a box of mac n’ cheese without burnin’ it black
If you show up with a plate of cookies,
I’m afraid you’re gonna steal the man back

Apple pie, help me lord, I can’t take this anymore
When’s that woman gonna get a life?
Step back Betty, put down that knife

Well, who needs a woman that good in the kitchen?
That girl was just a heart-attack waiting to happen
Fresh corn bread, maple-baked beans
You won’t miss that county BBQ Queen
Track Name: Get In Line
I’ve got a week’s hard work sinkin’ into my bones
But here in this valley no one suffers alone
We’re all flat broke just like we’ve always been
Ah, but we’ve got big hearts a-beatin’ so broke doesn’t make us mean

Well you walk right up to the bar, stranger and then you sit
And order something so goddamned expensive, bar tender’s never heard of it
Then you start talkin’ to me, ‘bout all the nice things you’ve got
Well you’re making the wrong moves, mister; a good woman can’t be bought

Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is
And buy this bar another round
This place is packed full of hard-working people
This ain’t Hollywood, it’s a small farm town
And we don’t need no limousines to have our bad selves a real good time
Well if you want to dance with one of us girls, you’d better get in line

From the top of that brand-new Stetson hat
To the tips of those genuine cowboy boots
You look like the kind of man
Who’s never known the blues
This town has seen hard times and battles lost
But there’s nothing like our fruit pies, sugar snaps or applesauce

Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is
And buy this bar another round
This place is packed full of hard-working people
This ain’t Hollywood, it’s a small farm town
And we don’t need no caviar to have our bad selves a real good time
Well if you want to dance with one of us girls, you’d better get in line

Well you won’t impress anyone around here, if you don’t know how to hoe a roe
Or drive that old John Deere or dig a three-foot hole
If you think those nice clothes will get you anywhere
You’d better make your way back to the city and chew off someone else’s ear

Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is
And buy this bar another round
This place is packed full of hard-working people
This ain’t Hollywood, it’s a small farm town
And we don’t need no Champaign to have our bad selves a real good time
Well if you want to dance with one of us girls, you’d better get in line
Track Name: Devil on my Shoulder
The devil on my shoulder says that I should get it over…
But I don’t want to let you down
The devil on my shoulder, well he sure is a talker
He’s got lots of bad ideas that we’ve been tossing around

The angel on my right, well she’s gone for the night
But I want so much to be true
Well I’m an easy sell, but I don’t want to go to hell
And I’ve been trying with all my might to be good to you

Chorus
Well I may be a simple man
My eyes may look where they should not
But I’m gonna try the best I can
Not to let that devil win, never to [mess] up again, oooh

Well the girl at the bar, she’s this town’s little star
And she’s been checking me over all night
And I can’t help but stare at that long red hair
Flowing down to the top of her thighs

Mac over at Rudy’s says she says she wants to do me
And I’m thinking that may not have been a lie
She’s really cute, she’s got long legs to boot,
And before the night’s over I think I’m gonna die

Chorus
Well I may be a simple man
My eyes may look where they should not
But I’m gonna try the best I can
Not to let that devil win, never to mess up again, oooh

Bridge:
Gotta get out of here, gonna leave my beer and go
Cause I’ve been a no-good cheater, but I love my woman so

Repeat V1 and Chorus.