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BOT my blog by clicking on the left- then you will be notified when a new post appears.IF YOU HAPPEN TO READ THIS ARTICLE, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO COMMENT. I would appreciate it. Today Wilson Pickett died, and, at the risk of sounding melodramatic, a piece of me died with him. When I was young in the sixties and seventies, my life and most of my friend's lives revolved around books and music. And there were a handful of us in Poplar Bluff, Missouri, all white, both male and female, who loved "soul" music and worshipped Wilson Pickett. Nobody on earth could scream like Wilson Pickett. Those were great times for great music. The young Aretha; the young Ray; Sam and Dave; Isaac Hayes; Sly and the Family Stone; Otis; The Four Tops; The Tempting Temptations; The Supremes; Marvin Gaye; Stevie Wonder; and on and on and on. But to many of us, there was only one King- and that was Wilson Pickett. Wilson Pickett could sing a ballad that would leave you with only one option- play it again. Listen even today to "I'm In Love" or "It's Too Late". And for up tempo and flat out screaming for joy, nothing tops "She's Lookin' Good" and "I Found A True Love". We would play these songs over and over. As far as we were concerned, the best songs never hit the top of the charts. Don't get me wrong, we loved "Mustang Sally", "Land of a Thousand Dances" and "Midnight Hour", but what about "You Left the Water Running", "634-5789" and "Funky Broadway"? Wilson did some great covers later in his career: "Hey Jude", "Sugar, Sugar" and "Mama Told Me Not To Come", among others. In 1970 Wilson had one of his last big hits, and my personal all-time favorite, that I can still play time afer time, "Don't Let the Green Grass Fool You." Wilson Pickett will not get the respect he deserves. He had obvious problems with drugs and alcohol, perhaps, most famously, getting drunk and driving his car over and subsequently destroying the Mayor's lawn in the upscale town (I forget the name) in New Jersey, where he lived. I think it was over a zoning dispute, and he did a little time over that. That was in the early 90's. I will tell you a true story about Wilson Pickett and I. In the early 70's I had returned to Poplar Bluff from Lake Tahoe, "between jobs" (unemployed). I headed back to Northern Nevada where I had another job lined up, but stopped in Las Vegas on the way- I'd never seen Vegas. I sat in a dark dive bar called the Nine-Ball Lounge, drinking and reading the Las Vegas Sun, and discovered that WILSON PICKETT was appearing in the lounge at the International Hotel, for a two-drink minimum. I immediately found me a cheap room, landed a job at the Aladdin Hotel and Casino as a cashier, and went to see Wilson Pickett every night for weeks. The lounge at the International was huge- it was like a theatre itself, and probably seated a thousand people. And Wilson packed it every night, and just put on astounding show after astounding show. Wilson was an artist who could perform his hits better in person than on record. AND, he could dance. Wilson didn't have a reputation for dancing, but I'm here to tell you he could shake 'em down. He would sing and dance and laugh and joke every night, working so hard that he would invariably be drenched when the show was over. He had a great time and we had a great time. He appeared at the International for several stints during my couple of years there, usually for weeks, not days. And I don't think I ever missed a show. Today should have been a day when all of the radio stations played Wilson Pickett songs all day. I don't think that happened. But I'll do my part to make up for it, and I'm sure there are thousands more out there like me. Mama get your mojo Papa get your gun I'm gonna steal your daughter I'm gonna be your son She's lookin' good... She's lookin' so good... She's lookin' good... Just like I knew that she would
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