Woke up this morning with my mind on Jesus, but when I reached out into the darkness all I could hear was Luther Ingram. The good lord told me not to worry and that the good Reverend Cheeks would be my guide. Rather than white collar he wore sun glasses with a Stax sharpie shirt, and there was a Black Moses poster on the wall in place of the cross. “Are you an angel?” I asked. “Angels don’t sing like this, they never had trials and tribulations like us” he said. We talked about the Soul Stirrers and sports over coffee and cigarettes and I got the feeling he was a little bothered by the fact he never got any of that Soul Jazz money. Servin had become more popular in his church than any traditional ever had been, and when asked about it all he had to say was “if Memphis soul is wrong, I don’t wanna be right”. I was sent off with a recording that he claimed was “an hour and a half long version of If There’s a Hell Below, Were All Going to Go“, which I unfortunately left on the bus. If you find a CD-R with Jesus in a yellow leisure suit and a guitar on it, holler at me.
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