My like of Marvin Gaye started with Let’s Get It On with its steamy combination of direct sexuality, disco & soul. I had the cassette for decades. But beyond that I was indifferent. I was familiar with the hits but never wanted more than that one cassette until Sexual Healing came along – that is a great song. I had the lp for a time but, to my ears, that was the only track that stood out.
The hit parade radio I listened in Cape Breton rarely featured r’n’b unless it was cross-over hits by say, The Supremes. I got the impression that stars like Marvin Gaye were too adult for teens or just not musically as interesting as Creedence Clearwater or Jimi Hendrix. I never felt the presence of many of those black performers and so didn’t develop a likeness for them.
So next on the shelf are as stand-alones: What’s Going On, Let’s Get It and on two mp3 collections Mavin Gaye’s: MPG,, Trouble Man, Here My Dear, In Our Lifetime. MPG I found for a dollar as lp & did the lp to cd transfer. I also had Trouble Man soundtrack as lp & replaced it with mp3 reissue with full tracks. Lifetime is a mid career piece that I found relates with remixes, alternate takes & it is full of rich work. My Dear was a gift to his ex-wife, or something like that, to settle alimony payments.
Also on these cds is Temptations: Puzzle People – more about this when I get to T; Shuggie Otis: fine funk, experimental, jazzy stuff; Billy Preston https://wp.me/p1RtxU-rH : He was more than a Beatles sideman & is well worth searching out. When I read that he was gay his work became a must have. Archie Bell: Tighten Up is the tip of a funk ice-burg. The Lost Generation, The Undisputed Truth: Two great soul groups with fine horns and political lyrics. Al Wilson: Hits – fine singing from this obscure soul man with an Otis Redding vibe. Tomorrow’s People: Open Soul a recent rerelease of 76 soul classic. Finally Jorge Ben’s Ben to give a little latin soul to balance things out 🙂
They were dead. The four of them. Mom, Pop, Little Sue and Baby Johnny. It had been fast work. A sharp blow to the head and some throat cutting. Skin was tough and then more tender than she’d expected.
They were dead. She left them where they fell. No need to make some stately dynamic array, no need to kill time, waste time gloating or enjoying the scene. This one glance goodbye was all she’d need.
They were dead. She was gone. Long gone. Not a trace, except for them, was all she left. Four of them. A good round number. The TV coverage would give her enough to gloat over without having to be there in the flesh. Without having to take those risks she’s learned are the ones that get you caught.
They were dead. She did the deed without explaining. Explanations only prolonged things, made opportunities for people to escape or for the alarm to be sounded. She never understood why they always did that in movies. Explanations to the hero about world domination plans were always a downfall.
They were dead. She had dominated their little world. Little Sue wouldn’t have to worry about boys pawing her now, Baby Johnny wouldn’t have to face the vacuum of adulthood and the parents – Mom and Pop, just think no college fees to worry, about no drug habits to break your hearts. Free. You were now free.
They were dead. The four of them. Curtains closed so that not even the moon could peep through. Who would be the first to find out she wondered? What if it took too long. She needed them on the news in the morning. Should she call? From a pay phone? There was one there. No. No stopping. No looking back. Let nature take its course.
They were dead. Mom, Pop, Little Sue and Baby Johnny. How sweet of them to have little name plates on the rooms. Sue wasn’t as little as she’d expected from the puffy bunnies on the name plate. Getting on to 12 or 13. Ready and ripe to burst into danger. Spared. She had come in and spared them all that. Spared the hell of all that all that.
They were dead. Slumped so quick to the ground. She didn’t know she had such upper arm strength, such speed. To flicker the pipe through the air and catch them each unawares. Quick. It had been too quick. She could hardly remember what it felt like now. Then it was a flash and done. She knew she had to be fast but why so fast. Not to get caught. But so fast there was no no pleasure left it in. Fast like that guy at the bar last night. He was so fast. Whoa, slow down boy, and let me enjoy it will ya. But no he was fast and gone and left her there spent and wanting more.
They were dead. But there would be more. Wouldn’t there? She’d have to take her time the next time. Allow for a bit of pleasure. She could do that and not get caught. it would be snap. But first she had to see. Had to get back to her apartment. Look casual in the parking lot and just saunter up to her place. Didn’t want anyone to see the gleam in her eye, the twitch in her finger eager for the remote, eager for the first news flash.
March 8, Thursday – Hot Damn! It’s A Queer Slam Workshop: 4 pm at Glad Day with D’Scribe.
March 8, Thursday – Hot Damn! It’s A Queer Slam Slam: 8 pm Buddies In Bad Times Theatre Feature D’Scribe
HotDamn! It’s A Queer Slam
April 03 – every Tuesday
June 8-9 – Capturing Fire 2018 – Washington D.C. (flight & hotel already booked) capfireslam.org
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