In the Beginning There was Music

tchallah-first-circle As a youngster of about seven, I witnessed firsthand the power of music. Our apartment, a small place for three children and a single parent, magically opened up when the furniture was moved aside in preparation for a party or gathering. Mommy always decorated for the event, preparing and laying out food and drink with help from us kids. And chores were never separated by gender.

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The Night I Walked Out

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You never understand what people are going through until you sit down, share a drink, and try to get to know them. I can tell you there are some needy souls out there! I mean some folks need a hug bad.

I remember a man named “Trigger,” and he was dangerous. His dead eyes seemed to want to suck the life out of the sun itself, and his choice of tunes reminded me of a death march. The Pink Floyd song, “Comfortably Numb,” was one of his favorites, although I considered it “head” music for chilling out purposes, ...

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You Can’t Buy Soul

tchallah-soul-3-circle In a strip club, there are always fights about the women. For years, from my D.J. booth, I had a bird’s eye view of over-the-counter cash flow and stare tactics guys use to frustrate each other in their quest to win over the dancers. As the night progresses, gents inevitably take full account of their adversaries in attractiveness, cash flow, and style. After they’ve had a few rounds, I can tell who is favoring which dancer and how he will pick himself up when she is near, becoming oh-so-charming, all the while, his eyes riveted to her.

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The Phenomenon of Michael Jackson

tchallah-michaeljackson-circle Imagine you are a top selling artist or some band looking to come up in the R&B industry. You’ve got your hands full of those unstoppable melodies of the Temptations, the Supremes, Marvin Gaye, The Righteous and Chambers Bros., Sly and the Family Stone, Smokey’s Miracles - all of the great tones and arrangements, vocals. All of the music legends that make hit records. And along comes a band of brothers last name Jackson who dance to a choreographed routine while two of the front men are playing instruments of ...

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Stand

tchallah-soul-circle “Hey, D.J.T., You’re spinnin’ some great music, what’re you playing next?” I glimpsed Angela’s long locks of strawberry-blondish hair, part dreadlocks, part fine silk, at the door of the booth. Her aura flared out “artist” down to her clothes, sophisticated rags, a combination of Stevie Nicks and Tina Turner. I’d heard the engine of her ’73 Cuda idling impatiently outside after work when she hit the automatic start switch. “Oh, hello Angela, hold up a sec, hon; I’m about to make my announcements.”

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