Each week, I’ll be profiling a particular song that I consider worthy of convincing the world that it is awesome. Once it appears in this space, its awesomeness is no longer up for debate. Dissenters will be shot in the comments section below.
I grew up in a house full of r+b. My straight-laced, white-bread mom loved the sweaty sounds of Otis, Wilson Pickett, and Aretha. She loved the soulful, sweet sounds of the Temptations, Four Tops, and Smokey. She loved the gritty funk of James Brown and Sly & The Family Stone. These are the sounds that I heard from the womb. They were integrated into my genetic code. One of the whitest men on the planet enjoys his funk uncut, likes to say it loud, and would just like to thank everyone falettinme be mice elf agin. I know, it’s weird.
As I grew into my life’s work as a music junkie, I began to search for sounds outside the canon. It’s a great song, sure, but if I want to listen to “Papa’s Got A Brand New Bag”, I’ll just watch a movie trailer. My journey led me to the following track (which I originally found on the superior Soul Jazz compilation Miami Sound – Rare Funk and Soul From Miami, Florida 1967-74):
Everything on that track is funky: the bass and drums, sure, but also the piano lick, and George McCrae’s breathy chants. Try not to dance, however awkwardly, while this song is on. I dare you.
I hit “play” as I was cleaing up post-dinner and found myself boogying (you heard me, boogying) around the kitchen with my sponge. So I suppose that meas I think this song’s a win, though the lyrics escaped me entirely. The music was funky in the best way.
Yeah, it’s great for housecleaning, and as I discovered at a previous job, great for data entry.
Is it good for… well… you know …?
Painting the garage? Sure…
http://joshreads.com/?p=867
That’s awesome, because my garage needs painting.