Ray came on again this past weekend and I watched it (again). I admire Regina King - she's fierce. My mom and I had an ongoing conversation about how great music was in Ray Charles' time, and how fantastic it was to have heard all that in its time.
I remember singing along to Hit the Road Jack when I was little and wanting to change the name because I didn't know anyone named Jack that should be leaving. My mom remembers huddling outside the door to one of my great-aunt and uncle's den while the grown folk spun the hot new Ray Charles rekkid. Chi'ren weren't allowed to listen to such thangs openly on a Saturday evening. It just wasn't fittin'.
My mom talked of The Shirelles, Martha and the Vandellas, the Four Tops and Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell; Sam Cooke when he sang with the Soul Stirrers, Curtis Mayfield when he was with the Impressions; the Ink Spots, Little Anthony and the Imperials; the electric excitement involved with seeing James Brown, Otis Redding and Jackie Wilson on stage, sweat gleaming as they strutted, swayed and swooned onstage.
I can still hear the crackling of the record player when I used to beg my parents to let me play the stereo.
"I'm a DJ, I'm a DJ. Danita Joyce is a DJ, get it? I won't scratch it I promise ..."
We talked about how my mom sang in the church on Sundays and at required choir practices, and I asked her if she ever thought about making the leap from the church to pop music. She laughed at me and called me crazy, but I know what her singing voice sounds like so I wondered aloud what that would've been like.
To which she replied, maybe you should find out for yourself.
That got me to thinking if I could cut it as a singer. Strangely, I don't want to be one in today's time. I think back and wonder what it would've been like to be, say, at the Apollo on a night when all the best black acts gathered. Man, I bet that was something. Or to pass one another on the so-called Chitlin Circuit. The back doors business, being called gal and such is not so cool to think about, but I really like the thought of being a part of that soul movement. Would I have been a Vandella or Martha?
I like the idea of being a part of a group - or of being a backup singer. What fun. I don't think I'd have taken too kindly to favoritism or to folk in the group striking out to go solo though. Well, unless it was me being the favorite, but duh, really.
I love those girl group outfits, too. Simple sheath dresses with gloves and no raunchy, audacious booty in the face dancing. Instead, one relied on a two-step or a side-to-side sway with hips keeping time idly. And the wigs ... well, I don't know about those really, but some of them look great.
This makes me think of the Shindig video and how excited the studio audience was - that's the part I like. Even watching the footage I got the feeling that the music was contagious and it mattered. Nowadays music is still contagious, but not in the delighful, infectious way. Now it's contagious as in, unless you got your ears plugged into something else, you're about to hear this mess over and over and damn over again.
There's no bloody way I should have to turn on the TV and sit through anything Ashlee Simpson is blowing out of her schnoz by way of her esophagus. It just KILLS me.
There's no real point to this post, no neat wrap-up, no deep thoughts, just meanderings ... Some day I may come back to this and expound on what type of singer I should be.
I don't even really think I've damn near died to buy a record as soon as it's dropped, and it's been a very long time since I've dropped everything to catch a performance. I think of my mom and her peers crowding around the TV to catch Ed Sullivan; they passed time just like I did while waiting for The Cosby Show.
Funny how the times unfold. Without that show, how many of us would really think The Night Time Is The Right Time is just the best song?