Big Mama chasing Little Richard with a butcher knife

epub or mobi, with thanks to the original sharer

Boy, oh boy, the action started. Every conceivable avenue of pleasure was rampant at this center of activity, a drunken man being dragged home by a good Samaritan, a couple of painted lilies standing in the corner smoking and indulging in that favorite West Dallas pastime—profanity. I paused to hear the deluge of obscene language coming from everywhere. A boy, apparently twelve years of age, walked up and asked for a cigarette. I gave him one on his nerve. He took two out of the package. A nickel Victrola started playing “Baby Won’t You Please Come Home?” Couples dancing, couples drinking, some talking in tones that I could not understand. A woman walked up and asked me to put a nickel in the Victrola. In obedience to her command, I placed a nickel in the slot and she requested that I play “Baby Don’t You Stay All Night.” The earthworm wiggling that started with the music was below my dignity, so I moved on down the avenue of “good times.”

Most rockabilly lyrics freely express sex as a positive thing

pdf (210 pages / 198MB)

ANDY STARR started out saying things like, "Yeah, we had a good time. It was the era of Elvis Presley . . . " - it sounded like I was talking to Eisenhower. Next time I talked to him he said, "You know, Bill, I didn't tell you, but I had sex with over 5000 women! ... Did I tell you about the time this guy was shooting at my car - his wife was hiding in the back seat while I had two blondes in the front!" He called me up and said, "Billy, I'm doing these big shows now - I'll send you photos." Then he sent these pictures, and he's singing in front of a potato chip rack.

a little old lady down front kept yelling, ‘Sing it motherfucker, sing it!’

epub or mobi, with thanks to the original sharer

A strange word: funk. It meant the smell of sex to New Orleans musicians. It was the stench of something filthy—a bum rolling in the gutter, Earl Palmer said. Whatever else it meant, in the music it was a repository for unclean feelings, for stuff proper folks kept locked in their subconscious. Connor had his definition, one that he got from watching dancers. “Funk is imagination. You can see a big fat woman walking down the way, she’s got a big booty sliding side to side, doing the jellyroll. You look at their behinds, that’s where I got my rhythm style. I would look at the dance floor, at some woman shaking her butt, and I would boom—do three or four measures of my stuff—then I’d watch her body language.” 

epub or mobi, with thanks to the original sharer

There’s a bootleg audience recording of James Brown playing at the University of Virginia fieldhouse in Charlottesville on March 12, 1965. It’s muffled and spotty; the horn section is barely audible; the microphone is distorting. But you can hear JB loud and clear. He starts the 45-minute set with “Out of Sight,” singing nice and tough. Halfway through “Prisoner of Love,” though, something comes over him, and he starts screaming so hard that the microphone is quaking under his voice. For most of the next half-hour, he’s howling, possessed, spraying blood. Even the crooned parts of “Lost Someone” sound like they’ve been dragged over miles of gravel. Listening to it, you realize: when he recorded LATA, he knew he was being recorded, and he held back, so he wouldn’t overload the microphone and get distortion all over the recording, because then Syd Nathan would never let him put it out. Live at the Apollo, my friends—Live at the Apollo is the sound of James Brown holding back.

Her big ass is as big and funky as mine! Lord have mercy!

epub or mobi

 

Everyone had a lot of sayings, too. People think "Where yat?" is new, but I said it as a kid. If you asked somebody, "Where yat?" and they didn't feel good? ''I'm fucked." Another was "How you percolating?" That's real old, grownups said it when I was a kid. "Is you sticking?" meant "Got any money?" A guy talking about his chick called her his quiff. If you wanted a girl's pussy, you'd say, "I want some of that trim," but a woman's private parts was also her coosy. If you were going to work, you said, "I'm going on my slave." You also called it your yoke. When someone got in a fight, that was a humbug. Doorpopping was eavesdropping. My ex-mother-in-law was a doorpopper: "There's Odile - do'popping again!" Marijuana was muggles and we also called it mootah. A boy and a girl messing round were doing nasty. Thelma Milton's stepfather caught Thelma and me doing nasty. Neither of us knew what it was, we just doing it because it was nasty.

odds may be in the graveyard's favor, but no way you can kill the flavor

epub or mobi 

One of the gangs was made up of all the whores and pimps from Perdido Street; their parade was called Gangster Molls and Baby Dolls. Everyone in this group dressed as outlandishly as possible: The women wore eye-popping dresses; the ones who looked highest-priced wore ultra-sharp women's suits, but with see-through bras underneath. Others wore slit miniskirts showing lace panties, stiletto heels, and flowery low-cut blouses. The pimps got decked out in acey-deucy Stetsons with cocked brims, jelly-roll-peg zoot suits, one-button roll coats with wide lapels, and zebra-skinned shoes; not infrequently, they'd strut down the street with canes made out of bull dicks.  They were ridiculous and funny all at the same time. They'd come busting out of their dives during Mardi Gras, their dresses and suits lined in satin and glitter, real sharp-looking and hilarious. They'd march down the greens, that broad strip of grass that separates one side of the street from the other, cutting up, shakin' the bacon and carrying on, and everyone would back off to let them start high-steppin', And you had best back off, too, because they took their kicks seriously. They were real rowdy. Cats would brandish switchblades, and whip them out in your face if you got too close. The tribes always drew a big crowd of black and white folks, but this kind of thing seemed normal to me as a kid. Didn't every town have tribes? I thought so.

He would walk by the dressing rooms leading his boyfriend by the penis

pdf scan (275 pages/138MB)

One time we were playing at the Paramount theater and Buddy [Holly] came into my dressing room while I was jacking off with Angel sucking my titty. Angel had the fastest tongue in the West. Well, she was doing that to me and Buddy took out his thing. He was ready so she opened up her legs and he put it in her. He was having sex with Angel, I was jacking off, and Angel was sucking me, when they introduced his name on stage! He was trying to rush so he could run on stage. He made it, too. He finished and went to the stage still fastening himself up.

If you don't already know it, you'll want to check out this great site.

Mojo,Voodoo and all that jungle stuff

New Link 14/2/12 here