Music really does define our lives, doesn't it? While civil rights brothers and sisters were marching and protesting, we were still shakin' it to the sounds that made us forget the torment and the struggle.
Working that "Jerk" and "Philly dog" and "Choo Choo" and "Mashed Potato" and "Watusi" while listening to Mustang Sally, or Engine Number Nine or Don't Knock My Love. Knocking On Wood in the Land of A Thousand Dances during the Midnight Hour just before we slide down to Funky Broadway. Did he really have to ask "Do You Like Good Music?" - definitely not!
No Boomers' ipod is complete without the wicked Wilson Pickett. Spotlight on Wilson Pickett now. I can hear those horn riffs now. Work it Wilson. Do that "Shing-a-Ling".
Wilson started his trip March 18th, 1941 in Prattville, Alabama and made his way to Memphis by way of Detroit. His strange, long trip ended in Reston, Virginia today. http://www.cnn.com/2006/SHOWBIZ/Music/01/19/pickett.obit.ap/index.html
I still think you gotta know how to "Pony" like "Bony Marony".