The Best of​.​.​.​.​.​.​.​.​Party Mix

by Walter Ehresman



2017 marks 30 years of recording his songs for release out into the world and, to celebrate this milestone, Walter Ehresman is releasing a series of "Best of......" compilations throughout the year, organized by style and mood. They draw from the over 200 songs he has written and released, across 16 solo and four band albums, between 1987 and 2017. No song will be repeated across any of the collections.

As those of you familiar with his prodigious output know, Ehresman tends to jump genres on pretty much every song on any given release. As he said in February of 2017, "....This is because I take the musical inspiration as it comes, and also have just never wanted to release an entire album of songs all in the same genre, with the exception of 2007’s experimental dark ambient album “The A.D.G. Project” (, written for use with a large art installation at Burning Man that year).......Like many musicians, I rarely think of genre at all when I write and record.....I just pursue the idea wherever it leads, and in the end it 'is what it is,' as they say.

"I never have a good answer when asked by people: 'Oh, you’re a songwriter…..what kind of songs do you write?'....... Some songs are in recognizable styles, and some I frankly don’t what genre you’d put them in. But given all that, I think all my songs can be sorted out into a few general categories that have as much to do with mood as with a recognizable genre."

Nine compilations are planned, and this third one is something that Ehresman calls "The Party Mix." As might be inferred from the title, Ehresman says that the collections is made up of "songs to put in when the party mood strikes.....I have to say that this is my favorite of all the compilations coming out this year!" The songs range from a summer pop anthem to British Invasion to a surf/ska hybrid to funk to greasy slide guitar rock to classic rock to a Steely Dan-ish groove to New Orleans street parade music to jump blues to post-punk art rock to Latin rock to cowpunk to humorous bluegrass to Southwestern desert rock. Throughout its twists and turns, though, the music keeps up the party vibe.

As with most of his tracks, Ehresman largely handles all the vocals and instruments himself, but some very talented Austin, Texas players and singers appear from time to time to sweeten the pot.

Cover photo by Ron Van Dyke; photo treatment by James Rader.


released April 1, 2017

Album compiled and produced by Walter Ehresman.

Snipe Bog Records
All recordings p. 2017 Walter Ehresman
All rights reserved. © as indicated at each work.

--solo albums: "Honor in the Swine?" ('89); "In the Path of the Cat Chasers" ('90); "Split Brain Theory" ('91); "The Blue Shoat Special" ('96); the spoken-word "The Rants" ('97); "Handwedge from the Trap" ('99); “Le Cafard“ (’01); "The Feral Rugby Team Must GO!" ('03); "No Unifying Theme" ('04); "March, Scream or Cry" ('07); "The ADG Project" ('07); "Monkey Paw Situation" ('09); “Well…..Let‘s Look at Your Track Record, Shall We?” (’10); “Life Outside the Tent“ (’12); “Blue-Eyed Devils” (’14); “Pinches Topes” (’16); "The Best of.......Singer/Songwriter" ('17); "The Best of........World Music" ('17); and "The Best of.......Party Mix" ('17).

--with Snipe Hunt: "We'll Be Right Back!" ('99); "Dirty Ditties and Cover Tunes" ('00); and "I Saw the Future (But the Damn Train Hit Me Just the Same)" ('02).

--with Los Platos: “Oh, No” EP (’08).

--with Delphi Rising: “For Granted” (‘10)

--compilations (various artists):
(with Swine Patrol) “The Austin Cassette Compendium” (‘86)
(solo) "Monkey Boy Sampler" ('01, '05); and "Several Famous Orchestras" ('03).



all rights reserved


Walter Ehresman San Miguel De Allende, Mexico

Called "the quintessential Austin DIY artist" by famed local disc jockey Charlie Martin , Walter Ehresman was an eccentric presence in the Austin music scene from the '80s until his 2015 move to Mexico. A prolific songwriter, multi-instrumentalist and recording artist...and a restless musical spirit, always looking for something new, expressed with fearlessly honest lyric-writing. ... more

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Track Name: Summer Calls the Shots
Summer Calls the Shots
(© 2010 Walter Ehresman)

The tide is high, the sun is shining, as we race down to the sea;
The wind, it blows her hair into my face, but her hand is on my knee;
The top is down, and we’re loaded for bear–the cooler busting at the seams;
and I see that glint of mischief in her eyes–like all of Summer’s just for me

I’ve been waiting such a long time;
Deep in the night, I thought this day would never come;
and now my skin soaks up the sunshine
–I’m of right mind (feelin’ so fine);
–for our Grand Design (watching your behind);
and all we need is what we got,
when Summer calls the shots.

The boys are rooting for the maximum of skin, as her shorts drop to the sand;
and the box is pumping poppin’ sounds from Six Degrees, with a groove that’s out of hand;
and now she’s dancin’ a little closer next to me (I feel my blood begin to fizz);
and we both know that time is just a state of mind, ‘cause right now Summer’s all there is.


Freeze that frame where she’s standing in the waves–
the light, it glistens off each tiny drop that falls;
and when she throws that look I know is just for me,
I feel my head explode with the beauty of it all.
Track Name: Knocked to My Hands & Knees
Knocked to My Hands & Knees
(© 2010 Walter Ehresman)

Knocked to my hands and knees;

Oh, man, did you hear that my baby hit town?
Oooo--ee, she's the best lookin' woman around.
--I've been waiting for this day;
--But what was that that she said?
Oh, brother, now the walls come a'tumblin' down.

Oh, man, now she's kicked my sorry ass to the curb;
Oooo-ee, she started walkin' without even a word;
--and there's a knife in my gut;
--and my heart is over-run, now;
Oh, brother, ain't this shit the worst that you ever heard?

Knocked to my hands and knees.
Track Name: Muchas Endorfinas!
Muchas Endorfinas!
(© 2016 Walter Ehresman)
Track Name: Spin It
Spin It
(© 2001 Walter Ehresman)

Big boys are so shameless,
so ruthless and so slick;
On the TV, they’ll be twisting
the promise without the lick.

Lonely at the bottom,
though I’m here with all my friends;
They say it all runs downhill;
When I look up--I see the end.

There is no truth, there is only expediency;
Spin it.

The hat you wear tomorrow
is not the hat you wear today;
I think I’ll leave my ears at home
‘cause I know what you’re gonna say.

Heard you wonder why the bad guy
always wins out in the end;
Once hypocrisy hit the mainstream,
if you don’t scream--you’re hosed, my friend!
if you don’t scream--you’re hosed, my friend!
if you don’t scream--you’re hosed, my friend!

Track Name: The Company Will Swallow You
The Company Will Swallow You
(© 2011 Walter Ehresman)

Well, the Company got nasty, and the workers took the fall;
We only wanted what was fair, but they want to keep it all;
And the rich men spit down at your feet, and they give not half a damn;
And they’ve left us weeping children, broken wives and one more dram.

Put your shoulder to the lever, boys, and all you ladies, too;
The ballot and our voices raised will help dislodge the few
who want to rule the many, and we cannot let ‘em win–
or the Company will swallow you, and we’ll not see you again.

They call it “legal fiction” but it feels damn real to me;
You feed the corporate interest and it shits out poverty;
And the few who ride up on its back can barely see the ground,
and when the beast stamps out your life, they will not hear the sound.


It’s been the same old story where you see the nobles tread,
but their bullshit’s gotten better, and it’s all come to a head;
The system cannot bear the weight of this kleptocracy,
so pull your heads out from your arse, and vote for you and me.

Track Name: Rain Down Like Dr. Phibes
Rain Down Like Dr. Phibes
(© 2000 W. Ehresman)

You poke me with that stick again, buddy, and you’re gonna pull back with a stub;
All those octopus suits, with The Man in cahoots, have brought things to the crux of the rub;
I know that you’re quick, you’ve got the moves of a tick, and you cultivate a Teflon style;
But the things that you do, and the stench that ensues, have got you walkin’ down the Terminal Mile.

A rain of toads, with a curse on your bones, to make you wish that you were never alive;
You know that I’m gonna rain down on you, rain down like Dr. Phibes.

I got a trace on your slithering conniption, with an eye in the sky above;
You’ve hit the worst high in low-down judgment since Sandra woke up with Bob;
When you stepped in my space, I felt your karma displace as you sunk into my pit of despair;
And I know that you think that you know what you think, but I think you’re gonna find yourself there.

It makes me sick, all the sins you inflict, and now you’re tryin’ to flick it on me;
But if you value your health, you’ll keep that stuff to yourself, or I’ll remove you from polite society.
You run in packs, ain’t never had the backbone to walk solo in the light of the day;
and I know that first step is so hard for you to take, so I think that I’ll just help you on your way.
Track Name: The SCARAB Strut (a funk processional)
SCARAB Strut (a funk processional)
(© 2006 Walter Ehresman)
Track Name: Ode to Nicole Atkins
Ode to Nicole Atkins (© 2011 Walter Ehresman)
Track Name: That's a Fleshy Reality
That's a Fleshy Reality
(© 2001 Walter Ehresman)

Well, he was sittin' there thinking on some very deep thoughts,
no different from those times before--
politics, religion and a secular morality,
and why most people only care for more.
He was feelin' pretty smug about the subject of temptation
(after all, he lives out on this higher plane!);
But when that girl rolled by he felt a glandular secretion--
the cerebral house of cards went down in flames.

'Cause that's a fleshy reality, now;
That's a fleshy reality;
I can touch it, I can smell it, I can taste, I can see
all on this fleshy reality.

He was feeling consternation 'bout his recent indiscretion;
If she asks, he'll say "It was a mild attack";
But he knew right as he said it that the prospects don't look good
because the top-brain should have more control than that;
You know the top-brain should have more control than that;
She said the top-brain should have more control than that.

Now at the bar, he's sittin' with an orange Tanqueray,
On Elba, wondering how he came this way;
He thought that his behavior would be something more than this,
instead of putting on a mating display;
Is it the pull of lunar forces on his personal equator?,
Is it sure as 2 and 2 equal 4?,
That the fore-brain is a sucker for a lizard brain attack,
No different from those times before;
You know no different from those times before;
She said no different from those times before;
She said no different from those times before.
Track Name: Mardi Gras Processional
Mardi Gras Processional (© 2005 Walter Ehresman)
Track Name: Snipe Hunt - Hind-leg Dancin'
Hind-Leg Dancin’
(© 1999 Walter Ehresman)

Man is a dirty dog, you must agree;
Man is a dirty dog, you must agree;
All you cats you know just what I mean.

Every guy would rather fight than switch;
Every guy I know would rather fight than switch;
The old hound dog ain’t gonna learn new tricks.

We’re gonna do some hind-leg dancin’ tonight;
We’re gonna do some hind-leg dancin’ tonight;
Don’t think about tomorrow, and everything’ll be alright.

Rover’s just got one thing on his mind;
Rover’s just got one thing on his mind;
If you turn your back, you’ll feel a cold nose from behind.

A lady just can’t take him anywhere;
A lady just can’t take him anywhere;
That canine feel will rise to take its share.

Man is a dirty dog, you must agree;
Man is a dirty dog, you must agree;
And if you lie with dogs, you’re gonna wake up with fleas.

Track Name: Jesus, That Blimp is Following Me!
Jesus, That Blimp is Following Me!
(© 2001 Walter Ehresman)

It was a trivial errand (not a quest of great import);
Sedition was not in my plans (only 'cause the time was short);
I had no sense of danger (just the usual motor jerks),
when a sudden shadow fell on me (my thalamus went berserk).

A novel vector for attack (a new way to creep up);
They'll tap you on your shoulder (zeppelin dangereux);
When sneaky men use helium, their war-cry will unnerve;
A malicious Snoopy airship (a malignant Hindenburg).

Every time I see you driftin' toward me I just got to run;
Tell the Kaiser that surveillance from above just ain't my idea of fun.

So when that shadow crests the treeline, it ain't no turtle dove;
Be wary when you hear them curse and scream "Death from above!";
Invective-spurting gasbag (we're not talking Mr. Helms);
But they'll flatulate upon the truth--true treason through the realm.
Track Name: She's Like the Khumbu
She's Like the Khumbu
(© 2011 Walter Ehresman)

Rigid and elegant, icefall of traps and snares;
A deadly place to walk; beware the raven hair;
Unwary traveler may think the ground is hard--
fall spinning through the dark, when you let down your guard.

The path has shifted now, and danger may be near;
The map from yesterday will not protect you here;
You think she's past it--now's the time to have a care;
She'll bring the hammer down, and leave you standing there.

She's like the Khumbu;
She's like the Khumbu, baby;
She's like the Khumbu, ohhh;
She's like the Khumbu, children.

Moods unpredictable, with weather change like that;
You get a little cocky--pretty soon you'll eat your hat;
So tread most nimbly now as you commence your climb,
or you'll fall farther than the longest rope can find [repeat twice].

[chorus; twice]
Track Name: Snipe Hunt - My Digital Love
My Digital Love
(© 1996 Walter Ehresman)

My digital love--ain't got no analog.

No matter how much we do it each day,
My baby knows my signal doesn't degrade.
She can't leave me for the tapehead addicted--
'cause my love is copy-protected.


My baby ain't no technophile, but
this hard-drive upgrade makes her smile, smile, smile;
I don't miss the drop-outs or the loss of the highs,
but I kinda miss the hiss...
you know I kinda miss the hiss...
you know I miss it when she hiss at me.


Take her to the studio, see which way the wind blows,
impress her with my fidelity;
She's feeling kinda kinky, wants to MIDI with the kitty and
run it 'til Take 53.


Tonight we booked more studio time--
that slap-back echo really makes me unwind.
My new equipment is a sight to see--
god, I love this technology.

[chorus, twice]
Track Name: The Ballad of the Solo Collective
The Ballad of the Solo Collective
(© 2000 Walter Ehresman)

When I go out West to Burn in the sun,
I don’t have to bop alone to have my fun;
You know I got to tell ya there’s some real nice people out there;
They put a cool, cool feeling in the air;
You know we work this thing together so that everybody’s got what they need;
You know we do this thing Collective as we dance away from anger and greed.

Toolin’ through the hurricane, groovin’ in the dust;
Swimming ‘cross the playa on a wave of elation and lust;
From all across the planet we converge on the rock that is black;
Feelin’ good to have your posse at your back;
So if you’re thinkin’ ‘bout a trip out to the desert for a thing that is new--
You don’t have to go alone because the Solo Collective’s here for you.
Track Name: I've Done My Time in Texas
I’ve Done My Time In Texas
(© 2003 Walter Ehresman)

Well, out there in the Lone Star State, those Texas boys don’t masturbate
(at least they don’t when anyone’s around);
They’re proud to have their sorry schools, to pump out the next crop of fools,
to make sure nothing keeps the profits down.

Well, I’ve done my time in Texas, and I’m gettin’ out for good;
I’ve done my time in Texas; gettin’ while the gettin’s good.
It’s a place of proud regression, where corruption rules the day;
It’s a selfish way of thinkin’, and I just can’t live that way.

Well, every time those cowboys vote, they shoot themselves right in the foot
(unless they are the local CEO);
Distracted by the Jesus talk, race-baiting and the pills they pop
from doctors trying to keep the status quo.

And it seems they’ve lost the will to think, their systems teeter on the brink
of making Mississippi 49......;
But proudly #1, it seems, for poisons in the lakes and streams
and air to breathe that makes LA seem kind.

And “business” ain’t no Mr. Smith while trading on the Cowboy Myth,
and selling trucks while sucking the place dry;
The paper and the TV news talk weather, sports, and Chamber views,
and never dig beyond the flimsy lies.


Well, I’ve done my 40 years and more of banging head against the wall
while trying to show folks the light of day;
But people there don’t want to know, their minds are too far down the hole,
so I think I’ll move to Cal-i-for-ni-a.

[chorus] Happiness is seeing Texas in the rearview mirror!
Track Name: Snipe Hunt - I Saw the Future (But the Damn Train Hit Me Just the Same)
I Saw the Future (But the Damn Train Hit Me Just the Same)
(© 2000 Walter Ehresman)

Walking out of Juarez, I was wishing that I'd worn some other shoes;
Kept lookin' past my shoulder, heard my friend say "Hey, I think I see somebody blue!";
Though blood was on my flipflops, I was thinkin' I could find another gear;
I knew before we done it that we shouldn't try to charge up all that beer.

I saw the future, but the damn train hit me just the same;
I knew about them prairie dogs, but I still hobbled out of that race lame;
And I bet Nostradamus never stepped in piles he'd "seen" before that day;
Still I saw the future, but the damn train hit me just the same.

I felt my third eye open when that girl said I's the best she'd ever seen;
I prophesied disaster as I slowly slid my hand upon her knee;
My crystal ball was crystal clear about the way this pendulum would swing;
But just because you know it doesn't mean that you can do a gosh-darn thing.

You'd think that I'd be good at playin' dodgeball as I navigate this life;
The brochure touted benefits for everyone whose got the "second sight"; but
although my eyes are open and I see each speedbump several miles ahead;
I'll still hit 'em goin' full-speed as I stub my toe where angels fear to tread.
Track Name: Delphi Rising - The Road to Boquillas
The Road to Boquillas
(© 2008 Walter Ehresman)

On May 27, we cinched up the bags and turned south in the hot Texas wind;
Juan Vasquez hung back and he said with a grin, “My old friend, so we do this again?”.
And we rode through the night, then laid up in the day in a gulch just this side of Pearsall;
And Mono sang love songs while deep in mescal, but somehow we avoided patrols.

I’d dreamed of betrayal and dark rain approaching and sensing erosion of time;
So I sent out the word to our far-scattered band for some work (with some fun on the side).
We’d all been here before, through the lies and the war, and the speeches of men steeped in gall;
And some of us think of the way things have gone, and then some of us don’t think at all.

Down at The Pagoda, the bottles lay stacked and the night was too close to the day;
Hidalgo and Boni came down from upstairs with no money and not much to say;
But another girl looked as tall Boni walked by, then she grabbed him where business is done;
So he traded his jacket with a wink and a smile and went back for more use of his gun.

When light rimmed the mountains, we crawled from the bar; Federales, they drove us from town;
And Mono and Vasquez, they dragged Willie out, with Hidalgo nowhere to be found.
And back at the border, we looked worse for wear, but the guard barely opened his eyes;
“We all come from Sweden,” I said with a grin, and that hombre, he waved us on by!

In Piedras Negras, we met with Morales to pick up the primer and cord;
Juan Vasquez worked out on Morales a bit so that he’d be a man of his word.
In the desert, their camp was sure not hard to find, with the lights and the dogs and the wire;
But Mono crept through like a smoke in the night, and the whole damn thing blossomed in fire!

Northwest through El Moral and on past Jimenez we followed the river through June;
Got soaked in the crossings, and dry in the walking, and laid low beneath too much moon.
They sent out the choppers, and doubled patrols, but there was not a trace to be found;
We feasted on catfish beside Amistad, and slept in mesquite far from towns.

Willie went out as the sun burned away, to scout out some difficult ground;
When he got back from Langtry, his face had gone crooked and we had to help our friend sit down;
The smell was all wrong, but he’d crept slowly on, and saw 26 shapes up ahead;
When he brought his light in, “Fortune Favors the Bold” was carved in the chests of the dead.

Our faces turned grim as we set out again, ‘cross the Sierra del Carmen so dry;
Now we rode through the open, ‘cause everyone knows that nobody comes through this alive;
The road to Boquillas was splattered in blood and the stares of men who don’t look back;
And though our own band felt we tread the right path, still the writing was faint on the map.

The bites and the stings may not bring the beast down, and a man can’t hold back the high tide;
But when history’s written, please hold back a page for the men who were willing to try.