Although they would never be confused with a black soul group
street-corner wailing after midnight, the Brit-lit pop tarts known
as Prefab Sprout once sang, "Nothing sounds as good as/I remember
that." For a brother that has often been accused of living in the
past, of embracing an aesthetic that some believe went outta style
over twenty years past, truer words were never spoken. And, as a
child of Black folk's golden age of pop-cult creativity, a former
'70s rug-rat turned out by the groovalicious power of Philly
International, the ghetto pulp fictions of blaxploitation flicks
and the ghetto Hong Kong Phooy of Jim Kelly, remembering brings
much joy.
Still, several months into the millennium chic of the 21st
Century it’s become even more obvious that the inspiring black
print funkadelic foundation of the '70s is still being used to
construct the architecture of our present-day cultural landscape.
From hip-hop samples to Jet Li and RZA (dig-dat GHOST DOG
soundtrack) conjuring the bad-ass spirit of Bruce Lee to the Hughes
Brothers night tripping through the polluted world of pimp-daddy
macks, yesterday's icons are still a part of our artistic
continuum.
With Black Velveteen, a brother is on a mission: not only
to flip my own old school memories like a hoodrat folklorist, but
also to put into perspective how much the revolutionary sound and
visions of the Superfly-era is still living large in our
imaginations today. For some it will be like being schooled while
riding on the Soul Train, while others can just sit back, relax and
mumble to themselves, "I remember that, too."
street-corner wailing after midnight, the Brit-lit pop tarts known
as Prefab Sprout once sang, "Nothing sounds as good as/I remember
that." For a brother that has often been accused of living in the
past, of embracing an aesthetic that some believe went outta style
over twenty years past, truer words were never spoken. And, as a
child of Black folk's golden age of pop-cult creativity, a former
'70s rug-rat turned out by the groovalicious power of Philly
International, the ghetto pulp fictions of blaxploitation flicks
and the ghetto Hong Kong Phooy of Jim Kelly, remembering brings
much joy.