written, performed, and produced by Brad Peterson

Hands are the fundamental percussion instrument. Ala Chuck Berry to the Stones, to the Kinks, this song pretends to be little more than a song about good times. I once walked down an ancient stone Calle of Madrid and heard the distant sounds of clapping. Following my ears through the labyrinth of twists and turns, I came to an open street-level window -inside which, was a flamenco dance instructor and her group of teenage girls in chorus. Of course, here may be deeper implications on the universality and uniting nature of music, but in the end, I let the tape roll, clapped my hands for a few measures and viola -instant song. The recording process took a few hours from start to finish and didn’t even bother changing the faders from the default position.

Everybody stand
Everybody clap your hands
Across the land
Everybody clap your hands
Won’t you clap your hands
By happenstance
We all got up to dance
We took a chance
We all got up to dance
We got up to dance
Oh Won’t you clap your hands
We don’t have a plan

We don’t need to understand
There’s no demand
Just listen to the band
The backbeat is grand
Oh Won’t you clap your hands
Oh Won’t you clap your hands