It Can Always Get Worse

by Jimbo Pap

  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Deluxe single-LP 12" vinyl record in a gatefold jacket, poly-lined inner sleeve with lyrics and liner notes (lyric sheet only available in this format). Cut at half-speed by Peter Hewitt-Dutton, and pressed at Hand Drawn Records in Dallas, TX. Classic black vinyl.

    Includes unlimited streaming of It Can Always Get Worse via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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    edition of 500 

      $19.50 USD or more 


  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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      $10.50 USD  or more




Jimbo Pap
“It Can Always Get Worse”
Recorded throughout 2018
Produced by all involved.

Cover star: Nesema Lee
(Maternal Great Grandmother of Jim Bowers)
Cover photo taken by “Crazy Uncle Robert” Lee, 1984, 35mm b/w.


released September 13, 2019

Engineered by Be Hussey
Assistant Engineers:
Cal Campbell
David Tobocman
Recorded at Comp-ny, Glendale CA
add’l recording (A3) at Rancho Neosho, Culver City, CA
Mastered by Jeff Lipton and Maria Rice at Peerless, Boston MA

2019 Fiesta Red Records FR-013


all rights reserved



Jimbo Pap Los Angeles, California

Jimbo Pap is a band of friends formed by Jim Bowers, Bo Brannen, Pap Shirock, and Cal Campbell, and includes Kaitlin Wolfberg.


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Track Name: Submission (Nice Pants)
We put our pants on one leg at a time
Just like every other fucker
who wants to be Gram Parsons in Los Angeles
Oh rhinestones are a thing of beauty
but we don’t have cash for Nudie
Forget about Manuel
So send us back to the thrift stores again
We’re Jimbo Pap and you could call us a band
But it’s a shell corporation
Roots rock re-imagination or a standard derivation
Just like every other fucker with a microphone, oh we’re so alone
Looking for a new friend or two
To help us make it through
The news cycle that’s sucking out our will to live
we’ve only got these songs to give so we humbly submit them to you.
Track Name: Long Kiss Goodbye
Headed out to Phoenix. Driving all day.
With a true love there beside me
to see a band from Memphis play.
It was Phoenix where she’d grown up
and how the summers burned
I could see her youth and beauty
and hard lessons learned
We rolled up to the house where she’d slept so many years
Met three generations of her family.
Didn’t find a single thing to fear.
Held her close at Crescent Ballroom. It was Valentine’s Day.
As the ecstasy kicked in the band began to play.
Felt so proud to stand beside her.
Wished we’d never have to go.
Took her picture with the singer outside after the show.
At her sweet sister’s apartment I could see she was afraid
As the tears filled up her eyes
I learned my faith had been misplaced.
That was one thing that I did not see coming till it
buried me alive.
That road trip was just a long kiss goodbye.
Another reason to cry.
Well I’ve been shown that long kiss goodbye
by a few women before
It’s a cruel form of kindness when she
don’t know how to say
That she knows she’s leaving something good.
Just not good enough to stay.
It was a long drive back across the desert.
She requested “no sad songs.”
But she could not keep from crying.
I just focused on the long road.
We both knew this was the comedown.
Nothing’s ever what it seems.
Stopped for ice cream, it tasted so cool.
It still melted like our dream.
I sit alone in my apartment.
Hard steel above my knees.
Now there ain’t much left but memories
and nights like these.
Track Name: String Of Pearls
Self-esteem’s a trick but I’d really like to trip you up and take you out.
I know confidence is king but I always feel beheaded when
you are around.
I can’t imagine talking you into a string of pearls.
Much less giving up some autonomy to be my girl.
I can hold you for a night but I understand it’s cool to keep things light.
Still my heart starts making plans when I think of things I’d show you
if we had the time.
I can hold you in my arms and that could last all night.
But I really want to count on holding you next July.
Track Name: Yard Sale
Baby, let’s have a yard sale. Honey let’s have a yard sale.
You need the space and I need the cash, so baby let’s have a yard sale.
Tchotchkes, knick-knacks and busted guitars,
we don’t need one of these things.
All I want is your sweet love and a tiny little diamond ring.
You need the space. I need the cash.
What was our treasure, now it’s our trash.
I placed a local classified. The coffee maker’s kicked in gear.
I made some signs and hung them up to help the long-haired freaky people find us here.
So come on. Come on. There ain’t a thing could go wrong.
Darlin’ let’s have a yard sale.
I need the cash, and you need the space.
So goodbye table, goodbye hideous vase.
Cheap sunglasses and skin magazines, no it doesn’t have to sting.
So roll these quarters, I’ll pack this pipe.
Hope the early birds buy everything.
Track Name: Another Ticket On the Windshield
There’s not a whole lot to keep you busy in a dusty Nevada town.
But it gives a man a chance to breathe and his mind can then slow down.
You can’t blame it on the bottle when it happens either way
That the wallet phone and keys routine
gets too much for the front of our brains
To fight the menace of distraction, strategies we learn so well.
But I’ve seen all my best intentions pave a road to some fresh hell.
Life keeps moving. I watch the clouds pass through the sky.
Another ticket on the windshield. Another bill that’ll pass me by.
My friends all think it’s funny. They give a wink and a friendly shove.
It doesn’t feel good losing money or the trust of the ones you love.
Would you trust in a forgetful and genuine friend? I don’t think so.
Though it might work out fine ninety-nine times, you’re bound to learn.
Just like the friends I used to know.
Track Name: Someone's Gonna Love Me Again
They say you’ve got to follow your heart.
Mine always leads itself to breaking.
I always tear myself apart for all the wrong roads that I’ve taken
but I know that someday someone is gonna love me again.
So I hang with the lonely hearts in the unhealthiest environments.
And I listen to all of their talk about their entitled requirements.
“He’ll have a fat bank account
and a vintage car that turns people’s heads”
“She’ll be an artist with slim hips
and she’ll never let me get out of bed.”
Now my bank account’s dwindling down
buying pretty people round after round
At these godforsaken dead-end bumbled dates all over town.
So don’t tell me that somewhere ‘round some corner
she’ll be right there just waiting for me
I know she could be right here but I’m too blind to see.
They say you’ve got to follow your dreams.
Mine always lead me right back here again.
When I’m tired of my own schemes
I know my friends will be there like I am for them.
That’s why I know that someday someone is gonna love me again.
It’s how I know that someday someone is gonna love me again.

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