Lucille Bogan wrote lyrics that could make Sophie Tucker blush. A contemporary of Tucker and Fanny Brice, Bogan also found her start playing the Vaudeville circuit. Before Vaudeville’s death by the end of the 1920’s, performance venues all over America were segregated. Black performers could only perform at “colored” venues; perhaps this is why many black entertainers did not rise to the same mainstream popularity as Tucker and Brice, even though Lucille Bogan was also a comedic songwriter. Bogan was part of the tradition of performing bawdiness through music. She was a powerful blues singer, among the first to ever be recorded. Bogan was part of the era of Vaudevillian women who invented the “bawd” persona, a mode of performance that Joanne Gilbert describes in her book “Performing Marginality” as the symbol of a new aggressiveness found in female sexuality, laying the groundwork for future women comedians to be uninhibited.
Bogan’s lyrics centered around drinking, sex, and prostitution. “Shave ‘em dry” is one of the filthiest, funniest songs I’ve ever heard. She recorded it in 1935.
I got nipples on my titties, big as the end of my thumb,
I got somethin' between my legs'll make a dead man come,
Oh daddy, baby won't you shave 'em dry?
Want you to grind me baby, grind me until I cry.
Say I fucked all night, and all the night before baby,
And I feel just like I wanna, fuck some more,
Grind me honey and shave me dry,
And when you hear me holler baby, want you to shave it dry.
I got nipples on my titties, big as the end of my thumb,
Daddy you say that's the kind of 'em you want, and you can make 'em come,
And I'll give you somethin' baby, swear it'll make you cry.
I'm gon' turn back my mattress, and let you oil my springs,
I want you to grind me daddy, 'til the bell do ring,
Oh daddy, want you to shave 'em dry,
Oh great God daddy, if you can't shave 'em baby won't you try?
Now if fuckin' was the thing, that would take me to heaven,
I'd be fuckin' in the studio, till the clock strike eleven,
Oh daddy, daddy shave 'em dry,
I would fuck you baby, honey I'd make you cry.
Now your nuts hang down like a damn bell sapper,
And your dick stands up like a steeple,
Your goddam ass-hole stands open like a church door,
And the crabs walks in like people.
Ooh! Baby, won't you shave 'em dry
A big sow gets fat from eatin' corn,
And a pig gets fat from suckin',
Reason you see this whore, fat like I am,
Great God, I got fat from fuckin'.
My back is made of whalebone,
And my cock is made of brass,
And my fuckin' is made for workin' men's two dollars,
Great God, round to kiss my ass.
Oh! Whoo, daddy, shave 'em dry