Sunday, July 22, 2012

Part Two, Swinging Motown

The Chantrelles

I watch a bat quickly crawl underneath the black curtain that’s hanging on the brick wall at the front of the bar beside the front door. The lit up Striegl beer sign points my eyes back to the stage.  The Casbah is swinging tonight.
A woman next to me shouts out, Motown in Collingwood!

I smile and levitate with her excitement.  I came here to support a friend’s cousin’s band from the West Coast, but I had no idea what to expect. 
The lead singer is a vibrant young, red-hot Aretha Franklin with a heavy beaded voice and hips you move with.   Accompanied by a trumpet, saxophone, guitars, drums and key board, they are a bands band.  I have so much empathy for them in this room right now.  I don’t know if this is what I want to say but my admiration is accompanied by what I feel. Respect. I am pounded, strummed, ripped and pulled; my heart compresses with the base and my soul braids the music between the notes and chorus.  If I had a bad day, I can’t feel it anymore.  I am put back together again. Smiling and singing along with this gyrating room. I imagine what the view must look like from the top of their stage and I like our likeness of how we all beam.   

I’m not sure where I fit in in this scene - if I am the singer, the dancer or the instrument, but I have my pen and book to find out.   
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