Oh when I look around me This old world seems so troubled to me
Does no one see The beauty that surrounds them? Take a look around you now (sometimes) Pretty little blossoms, oh yeah Just as sweet as can be, yeah yeah
it troubles my mind These troubled times we need love You know it troubles my mind These troubled times we need love The world needs love, let there be love Open up your heart and love more open up Open up your heart and love more open up Open up your heart and love more open up Open up your heart, give a little love love, love, love, love
Does no one see The beauty that surrounds them? Take a look around you now (sometimes) Pretty little blossoms, oh yeah Just as sweet as can be, yeah yeah
Its been a minute since I traversed over here to the Record Shoppe; we had to close due to the Plague. Then, the riots broke out after Mr. Floyd’s murder and I boarded the windows up after I saw a white guy in an umbrella and raincoat smashing windows in Minneapolis – knowing immediately that he was a plant from a rabble-rouser group, planted by those insecure, anachronistic types who are afraid of anybody who doesn’t LOOK like they do! I’m sure you know who I mean – the current resident of the White House of the United States of America is one of their leaders.
Yet, this is a musik-only site, right? Historically, musik has mixed with politics and social causes, rite? (Yes to both or go back to kindergarten and start over, please). Therefore, I offer the following lyrics from the 1960s (where some wannabe dictators would want to take us back to, by the way), which still resonate these days, as a reminder to all, of our best side – and b why I am who I am – as Everyday People.
“Sometimes I’m right and I can be wrong My own beliefs are in my song The butcher, the banker, the drummer and then Makes no difference what group I’m in I am everyday people, yeah, yeah
There is a blue one who can’t accept the green one For living with a fat one, trying to be a skinny one And different strokes for different folks And so on and so on and scooby dooby doo-bee Ooh, sha sha We got to live together
I am no better and neither are you We are the same whatever we do You love me, you hate me, you know me and then You can’t figure out the bag I’m in I am everyday people, yeah, yeah
There is a long hair that doesn’t like the short hair For being such a rich one, that will not help the poor one And different strokes for different folks And so on and so on and scooby dooby doo-bee Ooh, sha sha We got to live together
There is a yellow one that won’t accept the black one That won’t accept the red one, that won’t accept the white one Different strokes for different folks And so on and so on and scooby dooby doo-bee Ooh, sha sha I am everyday people”
Yo Sly! You should do a 2020 version of this song! It would be a timely hit, doncha think??
Thanks for flashing by and please be sure to swing on over to “the Mothership” blog, www.achilliad.wordpress.com to see what’s been goin’ on.
“This music station preceded FM radio, which at the time was in an experimental stage. They were the WABC AM 77 of black music.”
This is a new category for the blog! Reuniting with some of my history from my storage pod recently, I came upon some masterpieces, preserved to now share with you.
When I was growing up and just starting to get into music, I’d stop by the records shops on the way home (anything to stall going back there) to pick up the hottest 45rpm record my allowance allowed and the latest hit ‘survey” sheets that all of the local radio stations put out regularly, listing what they were playing , by who and what was bubbling-up to be a smash soon! My parents didn’t even want me to listen to this music. I remember my mother asking me, “What are you doing listening to that gut-bucket music?!” I think I was listening to some Motown on my record player at the time. My folks and their relatives used to act all bourgie sometimes. In retrospect, seeing it for what is was, typical generation-gap disrespect, I guess. We all are subject to do it, poo-pooing the fashions or new trends of those that follow us – if we keep a closed mind.
This survey was right on top of the pile when I opened that now falling-apart file; from forty-eight years ago this month and at the time New York City’s number one “Soul” and R&B (Rhythm and Blues, if you don’t know) music station, waaay down at the end of the AM radio dial on 1600, WWRL. The mainstream “Top 40” stations were the powerhouse “Musicradio 77WABC” and at the other end of the dial WMCA AM 570, featuring “The Good Guys”. Theonly other “competing soul stations were WLIB AM and over in New Jersey, WNJR AM, but they had weaker signals with more static. All of this was pre-FM radio.
Do you remember any of these songs, or maybe the versions other groups and bands did as covers of them? And the gentlemen on the right-hand column were some of the guys who made me want to be a radio DJ too (though at the tine I didn’t know it). I even got to hang out with all of them except Enoch Gregory (top) who, if memory serves me correctly was the morning disc jockey at the time. All but a couple are not with us in the physical world anymore, but not forgotten.
Turn the page and you’d see:
I remember going to Alpha Distribution when I started DJing back in 1972 to get promotional copies that were free for us to play at parties!
On the back, “Jack” you’d see two more places to get the latest vinyl:
I’m so happy to have found these in great condition and as the month go by, I will share more from those same past months with you. Ironically I still own much of these records and they are still very playable (secret: never lend records to anyone)!
Please comment on anything here that moves you or, if you are too young to have known these records, feel free to email and ask me about them. I am here to educate and connect the musical “dots” for you, unlike so many people on the air fail to do these days. This is positive history; after all…its musik !
As always, be sure to flash on over to the mothership blog which spawned this one, www.achilliad.wordpress.com for mostly non-music content and diary ramblings now going on ten years of blogging! Thank you.
When I heard this little ditty that I’d never heard previously today on Russian radio, Davidzon WSNR 620AM http://www.davidzonradio.com/ on my way to work, I lol as a wine connoisseur. I thought it was by some old black American blues dude, until I looked it up on youtube!
“My wife got tired of me runnin ’round So she tried to keep me home Well, she broke my nose and hid my clothes But I continued to roam Then she finally hit my weak spot Threatened to throw my bottle out Well, from the basement to the rooftop Everybody could hear me shout…
Chorus: Gimme that wine (Unhand that bottle) (3 times) ‘Cause I can’t cut loose without my juice Gotta have hot lucy when I go walkin’ y’know
Well, one day while crossin’ the avenue A big car knocked me down While I was stretched out tyin’ up traffic And crowds came from blocks around Now the po-lice were searchin’ my pockets Before they sent me to the funeral parlor But when one o’ those cops took my bottle Jack, I jumped straight up And commenced to holler
Well, now, one real dark and dreary night As I was staggerin’ home to bed Well, a bandit jumped from the shadows And put a blackjack ‘side my head That cat took my watch, my ring, my money And I didn’t make a sound But when he reached an’ got my bottle You could hear me for blocks around
Chorus: Gimme that wine (Unhand that bottle) (3 times) Beat my head outta shape, but leave my grape Watch, ring and money ain’t nothin’ but don mess with my wine, Jim
Well one day my house caught fire While I was layin’ down sleepin’ off a nap An’ when I woke up everything was burnin’ With a pop an’ a crackle an’ a snap Now the fireman chopped up my TV set And tore my apartment apart But when he raised his axe to my bottle I screamed with all my heart…
Chorus: Gimme that wine (Unhand that bottle) (3 times) So I can drink one toast before I roast No sense goin’ out half baked, Might as well be Alll tore up
You can take all those Hollywood glamor girls Lana Turner, Rita Hayworth Bridget Bardot, an’ Lucille Ball And all them chicks ‘n line ’em upside the wall Put a gigantic jug beside ’em Tell me to take my choice Well, there’d be no doubt which one I chose The minute I raised my voice
Chorus: Gimme that wine (Unhand that bottle) (3 times) Well those chicks look fine, but I love my wine
Now some folks like money Some like to dance and dine But I’ll be happy If you give me that wine Gimme that wine (unhand that bottle)”
I laughed out loud several times and vowed to find it. From the CBS Collection of Jazz Masterpieces, several of the vinyl albums of which are in my library, you gotta get this one! Impromptu and spontaneous props.
“Just those first French horny notes, Da-da-daa, Da, da, da,daaa”, would cause men to rush to find that special lady …”
The epitome of a slow jam to me is still “Love Jones” by The Brighter Side of Darkness.
Back when I thought that a career in radio as a DJ would lead me to my promised land, I developed a show concept called “The Pajama Bar”. I was encouraged to pursue novelty in Top 40 radio as opposed to becoming just one of the bunch in Urban or “Black Radio at the time by my mentor. In retrospect, I realize that was partly because my expert Mentor analyzed my speaking voice and style, which was not typical (what we now call “Ebonics”) of most Black American guys on the air. Sure, I could and can break-off the slang with the best of my boyz from the Hood, but he heard that what came natural to me, due to my upbringing, was that I “sounded like a white boy” sometimes to the untrained, naked ear.
I specialized in evening and overnight shift radio. Part of my rap on the air was that I brought you music from the “brighter side of the darkness we call ‘night’”.
The Brighter Side of Darkness were four kids out of the “Windy City”, Chicago and were the precursor to the black American kid groups like New Edition, twenty years later. One of the first times a very young boy voice, in the person of 12 year-old Darryl Lamont was a featured R&B lead, reminiscent of The Five Stairsteps and little “Cubie”.
Just those first French horny notes of “Love Jones”, Da-da-daa, Da, da, da,daaa”, would cause men to go rushing across the room to find that special lady that they had their eyes on during the party, in order to catch that up-close slow dance.
I lost this album to the WBLS, New York City music library and then Music Director, Mae James, during my brief days there from 1984 – 1986 because my personal music library was even more deep than theirs and I brought my own records in sometime, to help enhance their sound. I liked Mae, but I shoulda just lent the 45rpm, but they didn’t have the album version, which featured a longer ending with additional monologue, more “ooh-ahhs”” and signature of this song, brassy French Horns and full orchestra in-tow all along to the extended vamp fade to the ending!
Back when groups had strict choreography, this was the same 20th Century recording sound studio and some of the same full orchestra that produced the late Barry White’s legendary hits like “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love, Babe”. The lyrics were almost comical, “What baby? What is a Love Jones?/like last Friday in class, when Mr. Russell was giving us the test. I was sitting up staring at you. I know I failed. Huh, a test paper, with nothing but my name on it?” but the term “love jones” quickly made its way in the lexicon of romantic dating linguistics. If you’ve comprehended anything I’ve written then all I want to hear from you in the comments, Doll, is that you too, have a “Love Jones”.
1972 – Black Ivory Better known for the classic, “You And I” and “Don’t Turn Around”
1972 – Any University, metro New York; dormitory:
The Soul music singing group, Black Ivory, better known for the classic, “You And I” and “Don’t Turn Around” is heard in the hallways regularly. However, this is a personal Kratesfullojointzmusik mission I write about tonight. Hauntingly, I share it with thee as it teases me, for your obvious non-judgmental amusement.
The best lyric of all, in my opinion and dominion is the one this post is following. Maybe because I am an elf or maybe due to my status or fungus, but it is, “Now, I’m the loneliest man in town”. None-no-fun, as we used to say back in the day.
I am often that and morosely in-perpetuity. So, what? Need a hot fox to keep me company. One with the bosom of classic actress, Ann Margaret; maybe a red head, like I saw in the supermarket yesterday. Butt (lack of ass) who knows?
They say a supermarket is the best place to meet a chick! Nyet. Please bring your discount card! Didn’t work; couldn’t think up something to say to her. Now (again) “I’m the loneliest man in town”.
And so it comes to me that I am again making new friends and acquaintances in a distant city and where the crutch is the bible belt and the women are not as forthcoming sexually.
Fast-forwardly I, the Master, came to the Carolinas to rid myself of the cold and to be near the ocean, initially. Yet it is not the main reason, because retirement looms.
I am only lonely because [use your imagination or fill in the blank] And If it didn’t, I would fly, marry her according to their rules and bring her back to the USA, so that I would finally have the companion I need to walk up to the sun together with now. Damn…
Nevertheless, Sing, Brothers, Sing! Perform my comfortless burg’s principles!
…“You say its love/But you keep throwing stones/You keep on throwing stones…”
[Los Angeles, March 16, 2016]
Even an “ole skool Gee” like me, from the Frankie Crocker-fueled, 107.5 WBLS FM days, can groove to the Brotha, Pupon The Don and his lament, on “Fuel 2 My Fire” [All Natural Records], which I would like to listen to, one day, on CD!
The bed is a spicy gourmet blend of Trap, Teardrop, synthesized metallic bracelet, strumming Mexican guitar and Reggae sounds with a splash of the dry desert heat of a “High Plains Drifter” riff-feeling musical hook. Pupon touches all bases with “Fuel 2 My Fire”. It is part of yet another morph of the sound of Hip Hop in the twenty-first century.
“Fuel 2 My Fire” is about a relationship where one significant other’s constant accusations aggravate the other to the point that he will not take it anymore, yet turns it on its “muthaf**in” head into poetic motivation; “You say its love/But you keep throwing stones/You keep on throwing stones…”
I like the dope way it fades in and then, using slowdown feature, pauses before riding into the fire of independence.
Last year, “…The Don” established his own record label, “All Natural Records”. There he is connecting with fellow rappers like Swavy Mac and No Cence. What remains to be seen is whether Pupon The Don will impact the world as not only a recording artist, writer and producer, but as a successful Activist upon his utopian goal of “creating music the whole world can build their future on”.
I have heard that same utopian ideal from several Millennials in the past week, alone – even from my own generation. I pray music can be an offensive weapon that helps to smite the negative barbarians who try to upset our peaceful world these daze.
There is no grey (Pupon) area! The Don cuts the mustard on this single and I look forward to the album and video (which I will add below in the future) soon. Since it is now my latest mental “tune wedgie”, I rate this track with‘four dropped mics’ out of five.
achilliadsmyvinylrecordshoppe 