This was an adrenalin pumping evening! James Taylor makes - say Wild Bill Davis or Bill Doggett - sound like the old lady who plays the organ in your parish church!
Mind you, whilst Wild Bill and his ilk painted much broader harmonic pictures than Taylor - whose stock in trade is excitement - they couldn't match him for aggressive, kick the door down power. He's more percussive than most drummers!
This was funky, soul fuelled - somebody said "Acid Jazz" - that placed his Hammond under ten times more pressure than even Mike Carr did - albeit without the finesse.
The packed room reacted, moving and shaking it all about - and I do mean all! Even I responded to the audience participation hand-clapping and the call and response moments he exhorted from the crowd raising my hands above my head as demanded. (I raised more than my hands as the 27 bus later edged its way through the Bigg Market revellers. Did I really see see six young ladies in bathing costumes on a cold 10:30pm evening?) I digress.
Getting back to Hoochie, it was earthy, it was rebel-rousing and it was quite wonderful providing you weren't looking for some soul-searching hidden meaning. WYSIWYG with James Taylor and few were complaining.
Yvonne Yanney (I think - I didn't catch the names) sang as if we were in the Motor City and guitar, bass and drums did the business. I suspect they may not all have been regular members of the quartet going by the instructions Taylor was giving from the keyboard. It didn't matter - it worked.
Repetitive? Of course it was. Tedious? - No way! My heart beat's just returning to normal an hour or more later...
Repetitive? Of course it was. Tedious? - No way! My heart beat's just returning to normal an hour or more later...
Lance.
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