redandwhiterag 
Included as one of the great pioneers, a man who took control of his own career, wrote much of his own material and paved the way for those who followed. He was also undeniably a superb vocalist and a forerunner for many of the talents for whom he both set the standard and broke down the boundaries of a still white dominated record business.
Although Shirley has produced some wonderful material over the years, you sort of get the feeling that it’s is a career that perhaps should have reached greater heights. Early on, her talent and vocal prowess had been favourably compared to Aretha and, although that’s perhaps a little audacious, only a cursory listen to some of her material will indicate why some commentators got a little excited. Certainly, her range, raw power and accuracy don’t suffer in the comparison.
A man who played the blues with flair, sophistication, technical brilliance and a sense of humour, Aaron Thibeaux Walker was born in Linden, Cass County, of Cherokee Indian descent. His trademark was the cool, telling West Coast licks which emanated from his guitar – there have been few who have done the job better. Throughout his career, he was backed by bands of excellent quality, bands which included players of the stature of tenor Original Sourceplayers ‘Bumps’ Meyers and Jack McVea and the bassist Billy Hadnott, who was good enough to tutor Mingus.
Steve Bellamy is a fellow ex-Sheffield native (that’s Sheffield, UK!) with a wealth of stories around the music, lifestyle, the business that made rhythm and blues – go to the R&B Editorials section in the R&B Primer main menu above to reminisce with him (if you’re not already here)! They are dated to the time of the original submissions (apart from this entry, obviously) and are not fully checked for accuracy. Any errors, please be kind and report and I will correct them.
The Sheffield Esquire was the first club to play R&B type sounds in the North of England. It started life as a Jazz club in the 40’s and is still going as some sort of dance club to this day. The heyday for the Mojo is considered to have been 1960-1966/7 and was long considered a rival to the Esquire.
London had the Scene club and Sheffield had the Mojo and the twain never met. After all why should we go all the way to London (by BR no less) when we had Violet May’s record emporium (still regarded as the best Mod record outlet in the UK), Burtons tailors, La Favarita coffee shop, City Hall hairdressers and a plethora of Boots the chemist branches. We were set for life. TV really wasn’t something that had any consequence. After all, as far as ‘our’ music was concerned it was a wasteland. Programs like “6-5 special” “Thank Your Lucky Stars” and the truly horrible ‘Top of the Pops’ were as blinkered to ‘soul’ music as Hercules the dray horse on Steptoe and Son.
I never set out to become “a mod”, there just wasn’t anything else to be. It’s 1961 and you either identified yourself with your father’s generation – short back and sides with brillcream, trousers with turn-ups, cigarettes with beer, the BBC light service radio with the quickstep, and the working men’s club with your Dad and his mates on a Saturday night. “Or” you rebelled. Rebellion in those days was painted in black and white. My school forbade long hair so we grew long hair. Cuban heel boots were not allowed so we wore them. The Beatles and Stones were considered the antichrists so we listened to them, idolised them and emulated them. Dad was old fashioned, we were modern. Anything he liked we hated. We were mods. Maybe not the mods you know but we had to start somewhere, right.
“Any problem in the world can be solved by dancing” – James Brown
‘Out on the floor each night I’m really moving
The band is wailin right, I feel like groovin
The chicks are out of sight, and I am approvin
The crowd is in tonight beggin for more
While I’m getting my kicks out on the floor’
Detroit may be the home of Tamla Motown and Memphis the home of Stax but for my money the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg did more for English Mods than either of the other two. Let me explain. It’s 1960. Rock and Roll from Sun records rules the America airwaves. Elvis is King and in Detroit and Memphis the sound of Soul music was just getting off the ground. People like Berry Gordy (of Tamla) and Jim Stewart (of Stax) were recording the R&B and gospel acts that had, up to now, only been on the local circuit but were destined for the Soul hall of fame. Marvin Gaye, Jr. Walker, Wilson Pickett, and Rufus Thomas to name but a few. It was a seminal era for ‘that driving beat’
George IV hung around with a circle of noble, well-dressed fellows whom a reader will meet often in the pages of a Regency romance. They were often styled as Corinthians, and members of The Four-In-Hand Club. The most famous of these dashing young men, though not himself of noble blood, was Beau Brummel. Beau Brummel was the top of the heap until one day, when he was feeling particularly full of himself, he asked one of George IV’s cronies ‘Who is your fat friend?’ Such wanton disrespect for royalty was too much, even for the worshipful in-crowd. Beau Brummel was disgraced, left the country and eventually died in poverty. Nowadays he would probably have done well on the talk show circuit.