Drop, Chain and Accordion

Harbingers of malnutrition
The Four Horsemen of hunger season
While the first three duly entered our vocabulary
The fourth, left to shame, was pushed to the recesses of memory

The drop was the most embarrasing of these musketeers
Because, when first encountered, he caught you unawares
The sudden drop of your clothing - you were now half your size
Exposing your nether regions to the fresh air and curious eyes

By the time you got to the chain or the accordion, you'd find yourself spent
Having long made your peace with this state of affairs: eternal Lent
Accustomed as you were to - call it by its name, starvation
After all, you were living through a proper People's Revolution

Marking the spot on your belt where you would pierce the extra notch
Or wearing belts where you previously had none - acceptable loss
Improvised contraptions for your skirts and trousers hopefully holding
Under military rule, we were at a remove from skirt-and-blouse voting

The second horseman, the chain, spoke to tears and sorrow
A cynical description of a neckline that was now hollow
Jewelry of a sort, a macabre, if fashionable, decoration
Thriftiness embodied in your very person, a celebration

The third horseman, the equal opportunity composer, the accordion
Orchestrated skinny rib cages visibly appealing to both old and young
A skeletal music of fatigue, unmet needs and quiet exhaustion
He devised a twelve bar blues, if you will, of quotidian suffering

As to the fourth, rickety, he mainly dealt with little children
Confounding in his physicality as should be readily apparent
Kwashiorkor, quite a mouthful, the dreadful disease
The characteristic bloating, the ironic mark of the beast

Weight loss, hair loss, failure to thrive, and apathy
And then we come to those now-distended extremities
And even with the outrage and the sense of violation
The question still remains, why were these men laughing?

Nature may be a cruel companion, what with droughts and brush fires
Yet it was a man-made disaster, preventable, and caused by these liars
With limited food resources, this had all the makings of a tragedy
Worse, they were warned well in advance at the time yet they carried on stubbornly

Quite bewildering though, and damaging to the psyche
To be branded as requiring all the world's charity
Stalking horses of hunger seasons past, harrowing and dubious legacies
Ancestral memories passed across the ages, fear and survival strategies

The fourth horseman, although it must be said, was rather solicitous,
Didn't lend himself to a coinage that was quite so felicitous
The lived experience was stark and dispiriting, disturbing in its dismay
Awful enough that even that angel Euphemism couldn't summon an uneasy phrase

Drop, chain and accordion, then, were the fateful entries
Albeit History gave unkind placement in the dictionaries
They would be prefixed in the lexicon by his name
To the Flight Lieutenant's great and everlasting shame

Such however is the way of privation, the nature of its exigency
That, even in the darkest hours, in the depths of an emergency
Gallows humor reigns, it calls forth linguistic innovation and whimsy
Proverbial zingers, sharp aphorisms, etched forever in memory

...

Basket cases
Tiny coffins
Circling vultures
Calmly watching

Weeping mothers
Hunger pangs
And the crowds
Scrambling for crumbs

...

Starving children don't cry
Tears waste too many calories
Shame, that so many had to die
Shame, again, their swollen bellies

Hunger, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• Pearls by Sade
  Melodramatic as befits the tragic scene she describes, mournful this ode to wounded pride.
• Hungry Blues by Jimmy Johnson & His Orchestra
• Never Mind the Hungry Blues by Larry Carlton
• Got the Hunger by Alice Russell
• Them Belly Full (But We Hungry) by Bob Marley
• Man Hungry by Sugar Minot
• When Hungry Walks by Gregory Isaacs
• Hungry Belly Pickney by Freddie Macgregor
• Hungry Belly Dub by King Tubby
• Very, Very Hungry by Brian Eno & David Byrne
  An instrumental track from the experimental album My Life in the Bush of Ghosts

Bonus beats: Hungry Belly by Frankie Paul & Pinchers, mainly for the title for this is a story about girl from Flatbush named Aisha. And of course, three live versions of Sade's Pearls, a show stopper ever since she composed it.


...

After Hunger for Sale (Talking Drums, October 3, 1983)

And also for that friend who startled me with the vehemence of his reaction when I teased him about his short stature. "Some of us didn't have our growth spurt during those years, we had Rawlings chains instead". A brief, damning silence ensued before joviality made its return. With my vaunted exile meshed with his explicit denial, our friendship, perhaps, was salved by the balm of the musical imagery. But the bitterness lingered.

And if archeologists can detect the evidence of famines and stunted growth like tree rings, etched in human bones, linguists and social historians can similarly escavate matters. Both earthquakes and man-made disasters leave their marks. Dzorwulu becomes 'the place that dropped', the valley of urban remembrance. Drop, chain and accordion as pointed modes of resistance in our hunger season.

Poetry as cultural memory then. Coinages bear the tide marks of social distress. In any case, this one's for you.

See previously Identification Haircut and, retrospectively, AFRC Member

File under: humour, hatchet job, satire, culture, observation, perception, language, Ghana, Africa, coup, rogues, dictator, military, famine, disaster, failure, outrage, memory, Observers are worried, poetry, toli

Writing log: September 18, 2022

They Don't See You

He started muttering to himself in French
Because that's what you do at such times - sigh
Then switch to your native tongue or thereabouts

"They don't see me
... Again ...
They don't see me"

The tiredness of an immigrant
The tiredness of an African
The tiredness of an older black man
The face of someone who has seen too much

"No, they saw you. I think they'll serve you... eventually"

Surprised that someone had understood what he'd said
Someone from the old country or thereabouts was here
Speaking his language
The hint of a smile began to broach his weary face - well-lined

"I know. They saw me but they didn't see me.
That's how they are.
They don't see you in this country. They don't see you.
If you only knew what it takes for them to see you..."

He was getting into it, winding up, getting ready to make a scene

"Well I see you, my uncle. I see you. Have faith. I see you"

Tonton, he appreciated that. That I named him. That I saw him

"They don't see you. Ils sont impolis dans ce pays. Impolis..."

Raised voice

"Well now they've heard us. They know we are waiting. Now they see us"

He chuckled.

"They don't see you. Really...
They don't see you.
They hear you, but they don't see you"

There was movement
The young man roused himself
Slowly making his way from behind the counter
To attend to this foreign crew now chatting away at the front
The old man was purposeful when he was finally addressed
And deliberate. He made him wait
He finished telling me his story before he turned
Then he cleared his throat,
And tried to summon up the English words
He started to explain whatever it was that had brought him to this place
As I went my way moments later, he again interrupted himself

"Au revoir, mon fils"

Then, loudly again, in English this time

"They don't see you"

They Don't See You, A Playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• You Don't See Me by Amel Larrieux
• Invisible by Alison Moyet
• Breakfast at Denny's by Buckshot Lefonque
• Invisible by Courtney Pine
• Don't Keep Me Waiting by Kwesi Arthur
• You Don't See Me by Al Jarreau
• Don't See Us by The Roots ft. Dice Raw

See previously Defensive Accounting and Normalcy Prohibition

File under: immigration, culture, observation, perception, life, race, USA, displacement, Buyer's Remorse, poetry, toli

Writing log: September 20, 2022

The Synthetic Shadows of Marvin Huxley

Apropos simulations and simulacra... I am catnip for the blues and, for the past few weeks, have been simmering in a thick stew of female blues singers - because, well, that's what one can do these days... Which leads me to the curious case of Marvin Huxley.

Or should I italicize "Marvin Huxley", a music producer who, like me, is enamored of 1930's Delta style blues and has now, at length (and perhaps controversially augmented with AI), delivered an album-length blues fascinator, Shadows of the South

Branded as an "Independent Lo-fi Blues and Jazz Funk Music producer" from Adelaide, Australia, I see and hear what gets him off, it's an aesthetic I am deeply sympathetic with. It's also an aesthetic just out of an uncanny valley, leaving me deeply conflicted.

My introduction to Marvin Huxley was Suits Stitched in Shadows and Lies, which was somehow recommended by YouTube after I'd exhausted my go-to playlists of Etta James, Big Mama Thornton and Memphis Minnie. And, well, listen for yourself.

(Putting aside the visuals - which were a later discovery and par for the course in this our generative timeline), I didn't know where to start with the music, I was confounded.

Then, one click later, there was A Dollar's Worth of Skin, which was similarly disconcerting to the ear. Synthesis, compression, homage at once, and fruit of a strange alchemy.

Then, there were also the earlier experiments, say Goodbye America Blues, which is more evidently artificial with its vocal sampling of an unknown singer and filtered guitar. Still, I kept listening, eventually casting the effort as a blues fascinator despite the synthetic content.

Sidenote: The Sister-in-law has written at length about the real thing. We should all listen to them. The emotional labor and the craft:
Blues Mamas and Broadway Belters: Black Women, Voice, and the Musical Stage (Refiguring American Music) #CiteBlackWomen

In any case, here is an album that is soaked in this aesthetic, devoted even. A studio creation, perhaps, but it is a creation nevertheless. A high-tech creation of lo-fi blues.

Or more precisely, it is a recreation from someone "who loves trying to recreate those old sounds using vintage style instruments, samples, compressors and effects". Homage and chimera, then.

When I read "The guitar recording was degraded to evoke the brittle warmth of a 1930s field recording", I couldn't help but think of Pete Rock or DJ Shadow crate-digging and similarly jacking for beats.

Or say Q-Tip on the needle drop.

There's a racial angle perhaps (or a cultural appropriation take, some might say), but I won't venture in that direction, only the music matters to me.

Still, who gets to write "a love letter to the lost ghosts of American blues music"? Not for nothing do many bluesmen sing that Blues is a Feeling. (see Lightnin' Hopkins, for example)

And in a year where the movie Sinners has dominated the cultural zeitgeist, it is worth asking whether you can have a Delta blues revival, with full-on lyrics, gritty vocals and all, that is synthetic rather than authentic.

(Sidenote: to that point, Buddy Guy's new album Ain't done with the blues is also out)

Still, the music nerd in me wants to deconstruct the work. Where do the voices in Shadows of the South come from? What studio trickery was used? What equipment? Or, perhaps more tellingly, what prompts were crafted, if some of it is indeed AI-infused?

But then, stepping back, I also want to ask: who made the field recordings that we all venerate? Who was documenting the blues back then? Who was promoting it? And who now basks in the sounds of earthy blues?

But that's me. I can listen to a blues mama merely humming for hours on end. Further, the stakes are low. To add or not to add to the playlist, that is the question.

It seems to me that the visuals highlight the artifice and perhaps even detract from the music they are intended to support. At the same time, they do underscore the mood and point to the story of the clever lyrics. Also: they are great conversation pieces.

(A reminder that my favorite video accompanying a Funkadelic song is a juxtaposition with a Russ Meyer film, You Scared the Lovin' Outta Me by Funkadelic)

But I wonder what Marvin Huxley would come up with, with say a Lizz Wright in the flesh, after hours in the recording booth. Or maybe, to push the racial angle, what would a project with Alice Russell on vocals sound like in comparison?

In the same vein, one wonders if people want to listen to the blues or if blues-adjacent or blues-influenced will suffice. Certainly in these streaming days, there are many for which the simulacra will suffice as background music. Reserving the experience of the real thing for live settings. One wonders...

Anyway, the album is not all fetishized retro action. The rest features more modern beats, albeit still blues-inflected on the surface, even when veering into trip-hop territory. That growl in the vocals is a constant, and those guitar licks. Sounds of nostalgia.

I can see the twinkle in the eye as the album was released. But who knows how it will be received? I do know that this listener was left chasing shadows tying to decipher this conversation piece. Let me know what you think.

Shadows of the South by Marvin Huxley

The album on YouTube (spotify version) and a few highlights. For the first three, I suggest a blind listen before venturing to the videos.

• Suits Stitched in Shadows and Lies
• A Dollar's Worth of Skin
• Goodbye America Blues
• Sunday Prayes and Monday Chains
• Silver spoons and broken backs
• Shadows of the south
  The title track sounds more modern than the rest of the album.

P.S. Hey Marvin, tell me more about the makings of this album.

P.P.S. Pardon the title of this piece, I'm a sucker for such things.

This note is part of a series, One Track Mind. See previously:

Mercurial, They Call Him

Portrait of a narcissist, a few essential traits
A slight never forgotten, don't you make that mistake
A double heart filled with unspoken threats
He wears the mask the audience deserves

Portrait of an opportunist, moral flexibility in abundance
Reversals galore but he rolls with the punches
His interests always trump friendships, let's call it expedience
For survival beyond the day's end is his sole allegiance

Portrait of the vain, hollow on the inside
Entitlement in stiff competition with pride
His secret weapon, a genuine sense of self importance
Chock full of certainty about the rightness of his cause
To call him self centered is to merely state the obvious

Portrait of a deceiver, all things to all men
Lying with a straight face, his enduring strength
Pitch perfect delivery, you could swear he believes every untruth
Surely, to impugn the purity of his motives? What are you, uncouth?

Carried Fanon's book around for a full year - wretched
Still occasionally tries to read it (practice makes perfect)
But underneath everything is a fundamental insecurity
Mommy and Daddy issues, the bitter roots of his immaturity

The need for speed, horses his first love
But anything with an engine would do
Nights out with the running partners
Booze, the hard stuff, ladies of easy virtue
After dark, how exciting, and all in the same room

It's fair to say that there are multitudes inside of this man
Characterized, everyone says, by his tremendous charm
Unrestrained, unfiltered, half baked, half-cocked
Empty but empowered, half truths, half thought

Absolved, then, of the burden of any sense of responsibility
Free to be a political actor altogether allergic to empathy
A chameleon - mercurial, they call him, the luckiest man alive
Just your luck that you're stuck with him, the best years of your life

Bad, a playlist

For what it's worth, this playlist was intended to stand alone but seeing as I haven't written up the liner notes in the 17 years since I made it, I suppose I can repurpose it as the soundtrack for this note. A couple of hours on a bad man (spotify version)

...

Timing is everything
Observers are worried

...

See previously The Conqueror's Catechism


File under: humour, hatchet job, rogues, satire, culture, observation, perception, military, dictator, blood, sin, greed, gremlins, Africa, violence, strategy, Fallen Angels, Observers are worried, poetry, toli

Writing log: September 18, 2022

At the Africarib Market

Late afternoon at the Africarib market,
The brothers in the know were picking up some yam
Man cannot live on bread alone
(A fresh shipment of puna yam had just arrived from the motherland)

I was more interested in the kenkey
 that had also arrived that Wednesday,
Driven up from Houston by an ex-military man in a jeep;
His wife was the one who prepared the kenkey
The Nigerians were out in force -
Yam for their swallow obviously, and much more:
Stockfish, herring and even snails.
The shop was well stocked today

One of the elders recounted a long tale
 about how hard things were back home - believe him
We learned about the three year old child who was suffering,
  crying when he'd last called home
The story was that two ears of corn had been prepared in the morning -
 his share for the day
But that before it could be given out, a fowl -
  unclear whether it was a chicken or guinea fowl,
Had gone behind him - poor thing,
  and absconded with the corn

And the child had set about on the chase,
  and duly tripped and fell,
And was now disconsolate,
  bleeding, and still crying hours after the deed
And hungry too, for the corn was long gone
There was an object lesson in the tale
 about the hardships that our people were facing,
Inflation, poverty and worse - how for do? Na wow
Now even little ones have to compete with fowls for their daily corn

Just then we saw the headlines
On the screen above the check out counter
Breaking news, school shooting... CNN...
Two children killed... many injured... More to follow
"So these people...
School don open just this week and they go shoot am...
America..." Shaking heads all around.

Our laments about the continent were cut short - these people
I quickly settled with Walter. And made my excuses to the circle:
"I need to pick up the kids from school"
Head nods. We all sobered up promptly,
The expected banter postponed for another time
I'll admit, I drove rather fast to the school

Defensive Posture, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note. Musical protection. (spotify version)

Bonus beats: Immigrant by Sade

See previously Silt and Sediment, Action Items, Prone and Defensive Accounting

File under: immigration, culture, observation, perception, social, Africa, USA, blood, violence, modernity, guns, outrage, The Rough Beast, Observers are worried, poetry, toli

Writing log: August 28, 2025

Lines

Pink lines are the new shape of dread
The weary anticipation of the so-called rapid test
Faint traces of the untimely failures of our defenses
Or an unwelcome rejoinder to our wilful recklessness

Red lines that bellicose nations brandish
Their diplomats echoing aggressive rhetoric
Not to be crossed or we'll give you the "or else" treatment
The new warfare, like the old, is said to be indecent
By design, it's hard to trace the contours of these boundaries
Seeing as they are drawn up essentially to support a casus belli

White lines that crackle with the powder of addiction
Just say no, resist the temptation, said the erstwhile First Lady
"No Dope, No Drugs", for good measure, chimed in Mr T
For white lines mark the streets with broken dreams

Yellow lines outline a zone, never cross the double ones
Symbolic, indicating waiting or parking restrictions
The DC Metro one tends to shut down for up to eight months
The price of deferred maintenance, repairs and rehabilitation
Safety first, passing is forbidden in both directions
Prohibition, as inconveniences grow, try to avoid obstructions

Power lines, careful around them, electricity
The skeletal frame of our modernity
Infrastructure, what you realize in its absence that you miss
Prime candidate for what went wrong in the root cause analysis

Don't leave anything behind, always put it all on the line
Read the room, be forever mindful of the party line
Embrace euphemism, ambiguity and blurred lines
Careful as you go, tread warily, walk a thin line
Lines in the sand, drawing up lessons learned
Histories remade by the storyteller and promptly unlearned
Comfort suites of ephemera, until such time
Caution, take heed, where you end up down the line
For if the front line is where names are made
It is also where most of the bodies are laid

Lines, a playlist

A funky soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• The Line by D'Angelo
• Blue Lines by Massive Attack
• Down the Line by Gregory Isaacs
• White Lines by Grandmaster Melle Melle
• The Groove Line by Heatwave
• Blurred Lines by Robin Thicke
• Lines by Eric Leeds
• Put it on the line by Lyn Collins
• Dub on the Front Line by King Jammy
• Front Line by Chuckii Booker
• The Line by Prince

File under: humour, whimsy, culture, observation, life, language, perception, poetry, toli

Writing log: September 14, 2022

Blast Radius

Ground zero
The moon tower marks the spot
Not too far from the state cemetery
At the intersection where cable cars used to stop
A block away from the offices of the N.A.A.C.P.
The mural is being restored as a kind of testimony

The blast radius
Gentrification spreads outwards
Progress, as viewed from one perspective
For many parts, indeed, had fallen into disrepair
But what is the fabric of communities?
And how much hollowing can a place bear
Before it loses its identity?

Change is turbulence
For the reverse is also true
Things - and places, are to be used
The inexorable logic of our economy
The foundation of land use theories
Displacement, a shedding of skin
The debates are about the nature of this new molting
Prosperity's impact on demography

Soundtrack for this note

• What Happened to Austin? by Lench
  A little heavy handed but quite accurate.

File under: gentrification, Austin, change, urban, city, displacement, development, culture, observation, perception, economics, USA, poetry, toli

Writing log: September 22, 2022

Paul Laurence, Soul Man

Soul man, Paul Laurence, is more known as a producer and keyboardist than for his solo efforts. I always found it surprising that he didn't break out given his impeccable bonafides. The keyboard and bass-driven funk. Propulsive boogie dance music even when mellow. Even the ballads groove.

An interesting Rhythm & Blues column by Nelson George in Billboard 1985 discusses the roots of Paul Laurence's dilemma. Long story short: timing is everything.

1985 was Paul Laurence's triumphant year. Having written Rock Me Tonight For Old Times Sake for Freddie Jackson, he'd essentially assured himself a Grammy and a firm place in the black music pantheon. Entire careers never reach such heights.

By then, he'd paid his dues writing for the likes of Melba Moore and Evelyn Champagne King. The success of Rock me Tonight meant he'd finally get his shot at his solo debut album, Haven't You Heard. Only, then, for the first single, She's Not A Sleaze to stall on radio play.

Why, then, was She's Not a Sleaze not a greater hit?

It features both Freddie Jackson and Lilo Thomas on vocals having fun over an infectious beat. Sonically, it sounds like an SOS Band joint guaranteeed to fill dancefloors. What happened here? Why would Nelson George call Paul Laurence a 'victim of circumstance'?

The pull quote: "'Sleaze'-y lyrics create a problem for Paul Laurence". In a sign of the times, a few musical directors - browbeaten by the scrutiny of the Parents Music Resource Center, misintepreted an innocuous lyric, "They called her Loose Lucy", and pulled the track from airplay.

As Paul Laurence rightly noted at the time:

"Guys like Prince have made a fortune out of suggestiveness, saying things on record I would never say. Yet because of the fallout, I and other artists, are going to take the weight".

And yes, even as The Purple One smiled his way through those years and never looked back, Paul Laurence was, indeed, collateral damage.

He was not wrong. Darling Nikki, and perhaps Erotic City, the previous year, famously aroused Tipper Gore causing the furore that lead to those explicit content stickers you still see on cd covers or the Scarlett E letter on your streaming services. Moral panics and such prompted by Prince.

But perhaps the damage wasn't so bad. The royalty checks he started cashing from Rock me Tonight were very real. The For Old Times Sake guaranteeed nostalgia. You don't always win everything in the creative arts. And as a palate cleanser, he then produced Putting A Rush On Me for Stephanie Mills.

Furthermore, he also topped that by taking Prince's Do me Baby and produced Meli'sa Morgan's cover version and album of the same. He wasn't resting on his laurels and, in tipping his hat to Prince, proved that game recognizes game.

1985 was before Nelson George would turn to calling the music that made his fame Rhythm and Bull. It was a time when he actually paid close attention to that strand of musicianship. Perhaps it was the shenanigans of the record companies that irked him rather than the music...

Also note Nelson George's scoop in his column: "Janet Jackson is recording part of her next album in Minneapolis with Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis"

Paul Laurence's craft is immense; his is a solid body of work. Evelyn Champagne King, Melba Moore, Freddie Jackson, Meli'sa Morgan, Kashif, Howard Johnson, Keith Washington... Legends like George Benson, Smokey Robinson, Stephanie Mills.

And when it was the dawn of the New Jack Swing era, he came hard, I Ain't Wit It remains one of my favorite swingbeat joints. The album title, however, does say it all however; it would be his second, and last, solo album: Underexposed.

In later years, he would continue writing for Freddie Jackson and others, producing much of the same quality. So Fine by Howard Johnson would be an exemplar. Along with Kashif he would blaze a trail in the vein of soul music with the songcraft, always tailoring things for the artists he produced.

And he's still bringing heat these days (see No Matter How You Rock It featuring Vincent Matthew). Again, however, that track was lost in our covidious lockdown. Foiled by the pandemic, a victim of circumstance once again.

In a sense, Paul Laurence could be considered in the same mold as Leon Ware, a legend more renowned for his production (and gifts to the like of Marvin Gaye) than for his solo releases even though those are no less excellent.

{And perhaps like Leon Ware, the singers he produced were better vocalists than him. Although I'd counter that I quite like when he deploys his falsetto - and I'm an aficionado of falsettos)

To conclude, Paul Laurence is not exactly unsung, but he was certainly underexposed. As a soul man who lives and breathes music, he deserves all the plaudits. He's also a minor victim of circumstance, perhaps, in terms of fame, but then timing is everything.

Paul Laurence, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note, a poor man's discography. Sadly I can't see any music videos so you'll just have to soak in the sounds of Paul Laurence. (a less comprehensive spotify version)


This note is part of a series, One Track Mind. See previously: Baby Me by Chaka Khan

File under: music, soul, appreciation, review, culture, observation, perception, adoption, One Track Mind, toli

Writing log: June 4, 2025

Sensor Calibration

The problem is often couched as one of recognition
The difficulty, as it were, of sensor calibration
For if you can't measure a signal as a matter of first principle
If you can't detect accurately, you might as well be invisible

The auto-focus systems in cameras that can't detect those darker than blue
The pulse oximeters giving false hope - the all clear, to those with a darker hue
Training data, darker skin tones - unusual, light exposure
Biometrics, facial recognition, fingerprint sensors

Architectures of participation and control
Resigned to playing the tenuous outsider role
In this rigged game of life (and death) with ever changing rules
Arbitrary boundaries, when lines are drawn, borders can be cruel

For those excluded from the system, then, a matter of quiet advocacy
A liberation struggle of sorts, forever teaching others how to see
File under the banner of cultural sensitivity in technology
Sensor calibration and relief from the burden of invisibility

Sensor Calibration, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note, fodder for sensitive souls (spotify version)

• Sensitivity by Ralph Tresvant
• You Can't Miss What You Can't Measure by Clarence Carter
• My Sensitivity (Gets in the Way) by Luther Vandross
• You Can't Miss What You Can't Measure by Funkadelic
• We People Who are Darker than Blue by Curtis Mayfield
• Skin I'm In by Cameo
• Choice of Colors by The Impressions

See previously Cultural Sensitivity in Technology and Empire State of Mind

File under: technology, culture, observation, perception, history, race, localization, photography, health, design, software, hardware, sensors, best practices, exclusion, participation, poetry, Observers are worried, toli

Writing log: September 21, 2022

Involuntary Termination

Register now! A ninety minute session
For human resources professionals
Update your knowledge about redundancies
And learn about terminating employees safely

As the latest research has shown
The risks of a former employee filing discrimination charges
Increases significantly - and therein lies the danger,
After they are terminated involuntarily

Hence the importance of documentation
And having the right steps and procedures
When conducting disciplinary discussions
For a termination should be handled well

Active preparation makes good business sense
Writing and following a script to minimize legal risk
Helps you maintain employee morale and productivity
The benefits of effective termination practices

Involuntary Termination, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• Hydra by Grover Washington Jnr
• Break it to me Gently by Angela Bofill
• Softly Softly by Sweetback ft Maxwell
• Break You Off by The Roots ft Musiq
• Break it to me Gently by Juice Newton

Previously, in the same vein:

• Restructuring Activities
• A Resource Action
• Workforce Rebalancing
• A Message from our Leader

File under: humour, satire, language, bureaucracy, work, economics, corporation, culture, job, USA, observation, poetry, perception, capitalism, The Rough Beast, toli

Writing log: September 22, 2022

Drama, a Playlist

The type of song that hits the sweet spot of drama and dysfunction. The subject matter may be petty and sometimes trifling, but the lyrics are sung with verve and, tellingly, the song always strikes a nerve. You can't look most of these singers in the eye such are the stories they tell.

I give you Drama, a playlist (YouTube / Spotify version)

• I Feel Like Breaking up Somebody's Home by Ann Peebles
  
  I'm genuinely scared of Ann Peebles, she really is to be feared. Her mixture of ferocity and vulnerability will disarm the most hardened of hearts. And Memphis soul never hurt so bad (that voice, Willie Mitchell's production! Those horns!)
   
   
• If That's Your Boyfriend (He Wasn't Last Night) by Meshell NdegeOcello
  
  Talk about petty. She'll take what she feels is hers and taunt you in the morning. Sexy and attention grabbing, she doesn't care. "Call me what you like", she sings. It may hurt, but those are the breaks; you learn as much on the playground.
   
• Who is he (and what is he to you)? by Bill Withers
  
  Well, is the jealousy justified? Was the look innocent? "When you cleared your throat, was that your cue?" Soul's premier storyteller paints a picture of suspicion with restraint and economy.
   
• The Rain by Oran "Juice" Jones
  
  Cinematic storytelling, he gets down to the sweet business of betrayal. The legendary breakdown is most quoted part of the song but the silky soul setup and refrain make it worth the payoff. "I saw you (and him) / walking in rain / you were holding hands and I'll / never be the same"
   
• Me and Mrs Jones by Billy Paul
  
  The apotheosis of Philly soul is this classic tale of adultery. The poet laureate of human weakness is not ashamed about the "thing" they've got going on. This is grown folks business, matters of the heart must be attended to.
   
• Don't Explain by Billie Holiday
  
  Lady Day shushes the scoundrel she's in love with. "Skip that lipstick, don't explain". The terseness of wounded feeling. Note the slight pause before she sings "right or wrong don't matter". The effort hurts. Talk about battered women syndrome.
   
• If loving you is wrong I don't want to be right by Millie Jackson
  
  I prefer Millie's version of Luther Ingram's opus of longing. The Caught up album is choc full of drama, and with the reversal of perspective, she found the formula that made her reputation: the conflicted soul.
   
• The Rap by Millie Jackson
  
  But then, unrepentant, she added The Rap, a monologue where she revels in being the other woman, outlining the subversive pleasures in wearing the scarlet letter. And society's disapproval can hardly hold a candle to the excitement of the affair.
   
• Yu-ma / Go away little boy by Marlena Shaw
  
  Relationships aren't easy by any measure. When your man quits his job, you can certainly understand why a diva like Gwen Guthrie would sing "Ain't nothing going on but the rent". Here, on the other hand, Marlena Shaw holds court, "Go away little boy", she sings. And how she sings. But, one wonders, does she really mean it?
   
• Creepin' by Stevie Wonder
  
  The departure here is not of betrayal but of sweet obsession. By inclination, our greatest songwriter was more uplifting and personal in his writing. He simply can't get her out of his mind. And the chorus does the same duty as an earworm.
   
• Woman to Woman by Shirley Brown
  
  Dysfunction laid bare, the phone call with the other woman. The song that spawned dozens of answer records. The back and forth with Barbara Mason and others made this the definitive talking piece. The rarefied heights of drama.
   
• Hope she cheats on you (with a basketball player) by Marsha Ambrosius
  
  Bitter, petty, and endowed with a highly specific vindictiveness. Cross her at your peril. If this is what the reaction is like when she's "just a little bitter", god help you. A woman scorned, she sets a new standard for righteous fury.
   

• Down here in hell (with you) by Van Hunt
  
  Genius songwriting. I mean "What would I do if we were perfect? / Where would I go for disappointment?" is hard to top. Messy and complicated. A strange relationship for the ages
   
• Creepin' by Luther Vandross
  
  By this stage, Luther was showing off. First doing the definitive cover of Brenda Russell's If only for one night then outdoing Stevie Wonder, no less, on the very next song. And check out the call and response with Darlene Love on background vocals. Creepin'
   
• Next lifetime by Erykah Badu
  
  The heart desires, but practicalities arise. Timing is everything. Dilemmas of the "awkward situation". In life as in her art, Erykah Badu's entanglements are legendary. Call her the Elizabeth Taylor of the hip hop world, the best rappers were all moths to her flame.
   
• She's got papers on me by Richard "Dimples" Fields
  
  The classic tall tale of the conflicted cad. Dimples's soft voice is perfectly pitched, the voice of a the set-upon. Then Betty Wright walks in on him hearing him pine for someone else and lays down the law. Yes, she's got papers on him. And rightly so!
   
• I Hate U by Prince
  
  Prince goes all-in and even takes it to the courtroom, a funny prosecution of heartfelt jealousy. The breakdown is worth the wait. There's a remix with Eric Leed's flute that leavens the bitterness of the original somewhat. Also: that guitar solo at the end...
   
• You know I'm no good by Amy Winehouse
  
  Confessing upfront her fickleness, she's the very definition of trouble. Guilty as charged, yet you still can't resist the pleasures and turmoil she promises. She's a diva. Well, what did you expect?
   
• Tyrone by Erykah Badu
  
  The reaction of the crowd the first time they heard this song live overwhelms. This was manna for the Essence crowd. Erykah took it to the streets. She's done with you. Surely you know who to call
   
• The girl is mine by Michael Jackson
  
  "Michael, we're not going to fight"
  "Paul, I think I told you, I'm a lover not a fighter."
  
  Even if you thought that the song was syrupy or that MJ had lost his mind, you couldn't help imagining the spectacle
   
• Busted by The Isley Brothers
  
  You really can't avoid R Kelly when it comes to musical drama and this production of Ronald Isley is the prototype for the later Trapped in the closet series. Aimed straight at the chitlin circuit.
   
• I don't want to do wrong by Gladys Knight & the Pips
  
  Decisions decisions. The secret sauce lies in the call and response. The tension in the blues, the interplay with the Pips. "I just can't help myself"
   
• You could have had me, Baby by Esther Phillips
  
  From an album titled Black-Eyed Blues which announces just how problematic things will be. Like Etta James, her subject matter is trouble, love and loathing. The album closes with Tangle in your Lifeline which says it all as far as dysfunction goes.
   
• I am your woman. She is your wife by Barbara Mason
  
  Why do people do this to themselves? Infidelity is an inherently unstable affair (pun intended) but Barbara fully embraces it. "You want your cake and eat it too". Consider also "From his woman to you", her answer record to Shirley Brown's Woman to woman.
   

• Jolene by Dolly Parton
  
  Taking matters into her own hands, begging Jolene to "please don't take my man / even if you can". That she manages to sell the idea that she, Dolly Parton, would play second fiddle to anyone is testament to her ear for drama
   
• After the pain by Betty Wright
  
  She still loves him despite everything. The soundtrack of rationalization. She actually sings "Don't blame Mr. Charlie, Mr. Charlie is just a man. And he's doing the best he can". I mean, we need an intervention here, come on.
   
• If loving you is wrong I don't want to do right by Luther Ingram
  
  1972 was a good year for adultery. Sounding the same theme as Me and Mrs Jones, Luther is not willing to compromise for anything, for she means that much to him. All obligations, vows and responsibilities be damned.
   
• You can have him by Nancy Wilson
  
  Some say Nina Simone, but I go with Nancy Wilson's interpretation of Irving Berlin's song. The delusion is strong with this one. Regret is all, I don't even believe the words for one second. She's stuck on him
   
• The other woman by Nina Simone
  
  Minimalist storytelling, four verses that trace the now familiar arc of disappointment. The bridge?

  And when her old man comes to call
  He'll find her waiting like a lonesome queen
  'Cause when she's by his side
  It's such a change from old routine

• Clean Up Woman by Betty Wright
  
  Featuring the immortal break beat, her's is the cautionary tale of "making it easy for the clean up woman". It's an odd perspective really and quite reactionary too: regret and the blame game for dumping the man.
   
• In My Bed by Dru Hill
  
  Goldilocks and the Three Bears revisited, Sisqó and company made the most of the ubiquity of this club classic. Even today, dance floors fill up immediately at the bass line. "Somebody's sleeping in my bed". Let the bump and grind begin. Drama
   
• Shaniqua by Oran Juice Jones
  
  She turned him out. The player persona couldn't stand contact with this fly girl. Shaniqua got him whooped, turned him into a square and put his pimp days behind him, By the end, The Juice even admits he's "straighter than six o'clock". Big Daddy Kane sympathizes with him.
  
  I just discovered that he actually shot a video back in 1990, albeit it's the edited version of the song, without Kane's rap (Kane does make an appearance in the video). Still, who knew?
   
• The Boy is Mine by Monica and Brandy
  
  The ménage-a-trois here is trifling, the stakes are not so high. One wonders if the titular boy is even worth fighting over. The vocal performances are the real battle in this case. Fighting words, perhaps, but I prefer Monica, she has a little spite in her approach. Brandy is all sugar.
   
• Sh*t Damn, Motherf*cker by D'Angelo
  
  It starts with "Why are you sleepin' with my woman?" and devolves from there. Caught, busted. The sound of jealous rage is the old favorite trope of the blues, revived here for the hip-hop age. The last line is genius
   
• Saved by the Bell by Roy C
  
  A very knowing comic masterpiece, a tall tale about the goings on in Infidelity, Georgia. The Wife would complain when I used to play this song in front of the kids. I demurred, the humour is universal even if racy. Effortless storytelling.
   
• Just be good to me by The S.O.S. Band
  
  The things we do for love, the things we'll put up with. I'll end with this vintage Jam and Lewis soul concoction. Problematic lyrics. Drama:

  People always talking 'bout reputation
  I don't care about your other girls
  Just be good to me

  And so forth.
   

Drama, a playlist (YouTube / Spotify version)


See previously: Love, a playlist

File under: music, storytelling, appreciation, culture, observation, perception, humour, relationships, life, humour, obsession, whimsy, Comfort Suite, toli

Writing log: March 28, 2024

The Fabric of Memory

Dense knots at times but often barely woven in the main
The textures of memory laid out haphazardly
For humanity could survive on their bed of frayed blankets
The well worn patches were not essential to protect
Their comfort rather came from the sheen of nostalgia
Its gauzy patina born of approximation and careful neglect
Attention wanders and the details are fuzzy
Who needs deep inquiries into imprinted testimonies

Lossy then, this fabric,
Full of improvised identities
Extra premiums are due for error correcting
Recall, the claims adjuster works for the insurance company
The duty of care is yours alone,
As is the responsibility

...

The burden of restraint, and the avoidance of pain too pertains
Such is our compulsion for storytelling
The necessity of inventing those good old days
The wax prints celebrating what were minor victories
Decorations of faded traditions rather than the famines
Rather than the droughts that brought hunger season
Rather than the bush fires that caused an exodus
The painful lessons learned. And the knowledge lost in the migration

Indigo fades over time,
it is said to be a repository of wealth
The dye procedures passed down across the ages, it seems like forever
Occasionally, however, the warnings of the perils are overlooked
But later generations can extract the solutions with a little work
Encoded as they are in the stitching of those famed cloths

...

The ancients were prescient when they sewed
And in their designs, they built in redundancy,
Keen treatments for the fabric of memory

Fabric of Memory, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note. (spotify version)

• Forget me Nots by Patrice Rushen
• Under a Blanket of Blue by Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong
• Do you Remember by Jill Scott
• Blanket by Jeff Beck & Imogen Heap

See previously Memory Islands. Cultural memory is my enduring theme.

File under: memory, culture, observation, strategy, perception, Buyer's Remorse, Observers are worried, poetry, toli

Writing log: September 10, 2022

The Incident Is Under Review

The incident is under review

...

The Israeli military said
There had been a "technical error"
With a strike targeting an Islamic Jihad "terrorist"
That caused the munition to fall
Dozens of metres from the target

...

An initial inquiry
Regarding injured individuals
Suggests fragments from a shell
Fired during operational activity in the area
Hit the church mistakenly

...

The Israel Defense Forces (IDF) said
It was aware of the "claim
Regarding casualties in the area as a result"

...

The IDF "regrets any harm to uninvolved civilians"

...

Israel deeply regrets
That a stray ammunition:
Hit Gaza's Holy Family Church

...

The IDF directs its strikes solely at military targets
And makes every feasible effort
To mitigate harm to civilians and religious structures,
And regrets any unintentional damage caused to them

...

Every innocent life lost is a tragedy.
We share the grief of the families and the faithful

...

The IDF works to mitigate civilian harm "as much as possible"

...

Israel remains committed to protecting civilians and holy sites

...

Children Among at Least 10 Killed in Israeli Strike in Central Gaza, Officials Say

The victims were gathered near a water distribution point, health workers said

July 13, 2025

...

Israel says it regrets deadly strike on Catholic Church in Gaza

July 17, 2025

...

Israeli Strike on a Gaza Church Kills Three

...

Israeli forces killed at least 27 people in attacks in the Gaza Strip on Thursday, including the three killed in the church strike, according to medics and church officials.

...

The cause of the incident is under review

...

Israel is investigating the incident

...

The incident is under review, the military added

The incident is under review, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• Under review by Master Planned Music
• War by Bob Marley & the Wailers
• Can't buy soul by Hebrew Rogers
• Eastern incident by Sonny Clark
• Under review by Fabrice Ravel-Chapuis
• Geneva Convention by John Sloman
  

  You can kill them all / But just kill them nicely

• War by Edwin Starr
• Ain't it the truth by Catalyst
• Isn't it a pity by Nina Simone
• Geneva convention by BYU Synthesis
• Under review by Luuccid Dreamur
• Geneva convention by Peter Wiberg
• Geneva convention by Dow Brain

After a few news reports this past week

See also: On a Man who was Protected by Another Man by Hilaire Belloc

Perhaps we can file these expressions of regret under the banner of The Rough Beast which asks: who is writing the script?

File under: outrage, blood, language, war, obfuscation, misdirection, Israel, military, Palestine, hatchet job, rogues, atrocity, culture, observation, perception, The Rough Beast, poetry, toli

Writing log: July 17, 2025

The Memorial Lectures

In a time, then, of intense ferment and revolutionary fervor
When bishops were imprisoned, and judges were being murdered
Amidst vituperous outbursts, obscenities, from the leaders of the junta
Who would set upon any opposition their cadres, commandos, and militias

It took personal bravery from this eminent historian
More inclined to dusty archival work than the realm of the politician
But everyone had to play their part, not just the journalists
The man on the streets, even the poets and the satirists

The call still resounded after six years to stand up and be counted
For, even in those days of despair, the challenge had to be mounted
In the face of random, yet purposeful, terror and violence
To confront head-on the prevailing culture of silence
Up stood the good professor to give those memorial lectures

Political parties were banned, so they were couched as educational sessions
Our intellectual life in those days reduced to Green Book study lessons
Featuring long-winded missives from our friends in Cuba and Nicaragua
East German ideologues too gave input, as did theoreticians from Romania

It's fair to say that this minor act of defiance prompted a revival
A reappraisal, in many ways, of Ghana's philosophy of survival
Methodically and deftly explained with his customary sensitivity
What we choose to remember and forget, the workings of cultural memory

He stepped up to outline the essence of these fraught histories
Provided the background to give strength to quiescent identities
We owe him a debt of gratitude, this mild mannered man of qualities
For laying out the Ghanaian context of the sphinx modalities



In memoriam, Professor Alfred Adu-Boahen

Memorial Lectures, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note. (spotify version)

• Think by Curtis Mayfield
• So Much Things to Say by Bob Marley
• Sorry Ain't Enough by SAULT
• Culture of Silence by Jhelisa
• It's Enough by Lenny Kravitz
• Le Silence n'est pas un Oubli by T.P. Orchestre Poly Rhythmo
• Had Enuf by Al B. Sure!
• In a Silent Way / It's About That Time by Miles Davis

Part II of Sphinx Modalities, putting a human face to Sphinx

Further reading: The Ghanaian Sphinx: Reflections on the Contemporary History of Ghana, 1972-1987

I nominate this piece for the Things Fall Apart series under the banner of Social Living

File under: Ghana, appreciation, resistance, dissent, courage, politics, coup, dictator, strategy, culture, history, oppression, observation, perception, Africa, values, social, Social Living, poetry, toli

Writing log: September 11, 2022