Nervous Norvus’ 1956 hit “Tranfusion” may not be the stoopidest song to sell a million copies – that title can probably go to “Disco Duck” or “Mambo No. 5” by that Lou Bega motherfucker, or jeez, anything by Poison – but without question, it’s the only hit record about being severely injured in an automobile accident that’s told entirely in a wacked-out strain of hipster jive, and sung in a quavering alto by a guy accompanying himself on a tuneless ukulele – oh, and did I mention the car-wreck sound effects? Such is the wild, wild world of Oakland, CA’s Nervous Norvus, a.k.a. Jimmy Drake, who by day was a mild-mannered, middle-aged truck driver and recorder of amateur songwriting demos. But under cover of darkness, he broke out the reel to reel and, as Nervous Norvus, premier ding-dong daddy and all-around long gone John, he stomped, hooted, howled, whistled and screeched his way through an astonishing number of novelty tunes that combined folk and country rhythms, early rock and roll, beatnik lingo (or zorch, in Nervous’ palaver), and a kitchen-sink attitude towards songwriting that won him favor in the hearts of Weird Music Fans everywhere. Norton’s Stone Age Woo collects a flabbergasting thirty-three tracks from NN’s decade-long career, including “Ape Call” and “The Fang,” his ill-fated follow-ups to “Tranfusion” (since “Ape Call” is punctuated by Nervous’ ear-splitting Tarzan yells, and “The Fang” is about an hepcat Romeo from outer space – it’s one of three songs about aliens on the disc – it’s no surprise that they were ignored), as well as the title track, for which Nervous explodes in a Tourette’s-like torrent of hormone-driven glossolalia to evoke a caveman’s courtship ritual.