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R'n'R not R'n'B...is that a question;
Whether 'tis purer in art to buffer
The swings and marrows off umbrageous portions
Or to take forms from 'mongst the seething bubbles
And by renaming blend them?
To rock, to roll--yet more!
And with an amp to play a blend
Of rhythms, of blues, of colors, of hues
That we are here for.
'Tis a combination equally to be join'd.
To rock to rhythm: To rhythm...of course to dance!
Aye, here's the pub!
And in the dance of time what teams may come
When we have rearrang'd immortal chords
Must make us shuffle. There's the aspect
That makes all amity of so long strife.
For we would dare be hip to horn and chime,
Improviser's song, proud band's harmony,
The echoes that resound the mic's relay,
The excellence of costume, and the turns
That merit patent of the worthy takes.
Why, we ourselves might mel-lel-lody make
Of sticks and stones! We must our fardels bear:
To gripe and fret away at fumbl'd riffs
While still the hope for something after this--
The yet achieved unity wherein
The reveler sojourns--uplifts the will
To find again the backbeat that was lost
And all together play an eight-beat tune!
Thus consciousness makes music for us all.
And thus the subtle blues of compassion
Enrich'n'bridge opposing qualities.
And compositions' pitch and tempo are,
In this regard, embellishe'd to accord
And gain the name of sameness. That's alright!
(From I-MAGE, page 54)
Posted February, 2002