Album Review: He Put In A Bar In The Back Of His Car / I Love To Play The Glockenspiel by Georgie's Tavern Band
Released in 1951 under the Decca label, this quirky little gem from Georgie's Tavern Band is a delightful mishmash of Pop, Folk, World, and Country genres. With its Polka beats, novelty charm, and vocal flair courtesy of Lee Sweetland, it’s one of those albums that sticks with you—not because it’s perfect, but because it’s so delightfully odd.
Let’s start with the titular track, "He Put In A Bar, In The Back Of His Car (And He's Driving Himself To Drink)." It’s exactly what the title suggests—a tongue-in-cheek tale about someone who installs a bar in their car, presumably to cope with life’s miseries. The lyrics are clever without being pretentious, and there’s something oddly satisfying about how the melody bounces along like an old-timey carnival ride. You can almost picture folks tapping their feet at some Midwest barn dance while sipping on questionable homemade brews. Lee Sweetland’s vocals bring just the right mix of humor and sincerity, making the song both amusing and strangely relatable. Who hasn’t wanted to escape reality sometimes? This guy just did it literally...and dangerously.
Then there’s "I Love To Play The Glockenspiel," which might be the most specific anthem ever written for an instrument you didn’t know needed an anthem. The glockenspiel, for those unfamiliar, is basically a tiny xylophone-like thing that sounds like childhood joy bottled up in metal keys. And boy, does this track celebrate it. What makes this tune memorable isn’t just its subject matter—it’s the sheer enthusiasm dripping off every note. It’s impossible not to smile as the band cheerfully belts out lines about loving the glockenspiel, backed by a jaunty rhythm that feels tailor-made for polka enthusiasts. Sure, it’s kinda silly, but that’s the point. By the end, you’ll find yourself humming along and maybe even Googling “glockenspiel lessons near me.”
The album’s blend of Polka, Vocal, and Novelty styles gives it a timeless quality, though it’s clearly rooted in mid-century Americana. Tracks like these remind us why music doesn’t always need to take itself too seriously; sometimes, it just needs to make you grin.
Reflecting on this record, it strikes me as less of a musical masterpiece and more of a cultural artifact—a snapshot of post-war America where people were ready to laugh again. And honestly, if listening to this album doesn’t inspire you to put a mini-fridge in your trunk or bang on whatever percussive object you have lying around, then I dunno what will. Life’s short—why not play the glockenspiel?
