The cleverly named 006 hailed from the Chicago area and released one single on the local Harlequin Records label in April of 1966. That record, Like What, Me Worry?, was picked up for national distribution by the girl-group-centric Red Bird Records a month later. Their presence on Red Bird Records -- which released a lot of songs by professional composers in the Brill Building -- led to speculation that the band was a studio creation. But they weren't. They were a sextet made up of some Beach Boys looking lads. Doc Watson (not THAT Doc Watson) was on lead vocals, Ray Fowler on second vocals, John Kielnik on guitar and organ, Dennis Rezendes on lead guitar, Ted Byczek on drums and Jimmy Flowers on bass.
Like what, Me Worry? tells the tale of a proud loner who is down with being a lone wolf who has comfortably embraced his tough-guy persona. I have no idea who the composer is, other than the E. Wenzlaff credit. Doc Watson lays down some perfectly defiant and flippant vocals for the song. Let's let the lyrics to Like What, Me Worry? by 006 do the rest of the talking for us.
Like what me worry, ha ha
ha
You never ever see me
walkin' round
Crying over a broken
heart
'Cause I made up my mind
a long time ago
That I'm a loner from the
start
You never see me gettin'
all busted up
And worrying my pretty
little head
Like man I know where I'm
sleeping tonight
Cause I already done made
my bed
Like what me worry, ha ha
ha
Oh man, you just ain't a
threat.
I ain't got no gal I
ain't got no pal
That's ever going to
cheat on me
I always maintain a very
clear head
And nothing ever troubles
me
Like man I got my very
own cloud
And Im always flying high
But I'll tear that silver
lining right out of you
If you mess around in my
sky
Like what me worry, ha ha
ha
like man you just ain't
digging
Up a little baby, come
on. yeah!
If I were you I'd march
straight ahead
And tape up my big mouth
If you don't your eyes
will be headin' north
And your nose will be
headin' south
If you think of stirrin'
up some action baby
Cause your life is
gettin' sorta dull
Then I'll take a deep
breath and I'll huff and I'll puff
And I'll blow you right
outta your skull
Like what me worry, ha ha
ha
oh man you going to be a
hairy mess, yeah!
So if you gotta pray and
you gotta sing
You better pray and get
it sung
Cause there's gonna be an
empty place
Where all your teeth once
hung
I'm gonna sock your ribs
And stomp your toes
And give your neck a
crack
And I'll break every bone
individually
In your sacroiliac
Like what me worry, ha ha
ha
oh man, you going to be a
sorry sumpin'
If you say one more thing
about me
When you open up your big
mouth
I'll put my hand in there
and grab your toes
And turn you inside out
I'm gonna tie you into a
great big knot
And throw you onto the
floor
Gonna stomp on and
pulverize you
Till you ain't no more
Like what me worry, ha ha
ha
oh man you ain't
suckering nobody
I'm going to take you out
to the back alley
and give you a couple of
lessons on how to jam,
man, you know, how to
defend yourself against bad things
guns and knives and
slashing all the hairy skin, and...
Until next time, we'll see you On The Flip-Side!
