Okay, some background music first. Kick this off and read on...
What do you mean, you haven't heard of Dobie Gray? Well, what about Sandi Sheldon? Little Johnny Taylor? The Fascinations? They're all American, after all. It might surprise you to know that these artists and many others you won't have heard of have been amazingly popular in the North of England, where I grew up, for decades now, and you'll still find some of them turning up at tiny venues and playing to packs of adoring fans.
Northern soul emerged in the late sixties in, and is basically fast tempo black American soul music with a hard beat. It became synonymous with certain night clubs, such as The Twisted Wheel in Manchester, Wigan Casino, The Torch in Stoke-on-Trent and Blackpool Mecca.
Going to one of these venues was not an easy night out. They weren't called all-nighters for nothing. Young working class lads and lasses, stoked up on amphetamines, the dancers would start as late as 2am and not finish till 8am. The dancing was incredibly athletic too, and a lot of the moves predate disco and break, but have their own distinctive character.
As the sixties and seventies wore on, the beats got faster and the dancing more imaginative. DJs and dancers began to search out more obscure labels, such as Detroit's Golden World, and Los Angeles' Mirwood, and find rare and deleted US releases. Some of the records are incredibly rare and there was (and still is) a thriving collectors' market. In fact, Frank Wilson's Do I Love You (Indeed I do) sold for 25,000 ($37,000) earlier this year - one of only two remaining demos, and regarded as the rarest record in the world. Just take a step back at this point, and think about all these young Northern English completely addicted to American rare soul, fanatical about the records and the labels. Music that barely scraped the mainstream charts in its country of origin. It's something else, isn't it?
The scene disintegrated as soul changed, with the advent of funk and disco, but there is still a hardcore fraternity of all-night addicts and an underground club scene even now, with Twisted Wheel revivals taking place regularly.
But it was at its height in the late seventies, and that's where my memories of it kick in. Still at school and living in a small village, adolescent and awkward, we all used to head off to the village hall for occasional discos. It wasn't much. Depending on the hall, the priest might kick you out because he didn't like the way you were dressed. And some elderly ladies would be serving soft drinks through a hatch. The music was largely mainstream and tedious. But, part way through the evening, some older boy, wearing his vest, brogues and Oxford baggies, would go up to the DJ with his box of records, hand one over, asking that it got taken real good care of. And then, if you were lucky, you got to see some dancing like this...
And, yes okay, the drops and spins are pretty good, but the real artistry's in the feet. If this don't make you want to dance, nothing will...
What do you mean, you haven't heard of Dobie Gray? Well, what about Sandi Sheldon? Little Johnny Taylor? The Fascinations? They're all American, after all. It might surprise you to know that these artists and many others you won't have heard of have been amazingly popular in the North of England, where I grew up, for decades now, and you'll still find some of them turning up at tiny venues and playing to packs of adoring fans.
Northern soul emerged in the late sixties in, and is basically fast tempo black American soul music with a hard beat. It became synonymous with certain night clubs, such as The Twisted Wheel in Manchester, Wigan Casino, The Torch in Stoke-on-Trent and Blackpool Mecca.
Going to one of these venues was not an easy night out. They weren't called all-nighters for nothing. Young working class lads and lasses, stoked up on amphetamines, the dancers would start as late as 2am and not finish till 8am. The dancing was incredibly athletic too, and a lot of the moves predate disco and break, but have their own distinctive character.
As the sixties and seventies wore on, the beats got faster and the dancing more imaginative. DJs and dancers began to search out more obscure labels, such as Detroit's Golden World, and Los Angeles' Mirwood, and find rare and deleted US releases. Some of the records are incredibly rare and there was (and still is) a thriving collectors' market. In fact, Frank Wilson's Do I Love You (Indeed I do) sold for 25,000 ($37,000) earlier this year - one of only two remaining demos, and regarded as the rarest record in the world. Just take a step back at this point, and think about all these young Northern English completely addicted to American rare soul, fanatical about the records and the labels. Music that barely scraped the mainstream charts in its country of origin. It's something else, isn't it?
The scene disintegrated as soul changed, with the advent of funk and disco, but there is still a hardcore fraternity of all-night addicts and an underground club scene even now, with Twisted Wheel revivals taking place regularly.
But it was at its height in the late seventies, and that's where my memories of it kick in. Still at school and living in a small village, adolescent and awkward, we all used to head off to the village hall for occasional discos. It wasn't much. Depending on the hall, the priest might kick you out because he didn't like the way you were dressed. And some elderly ladies would be serving soft drinks through a hatch. The music was largely mainstream and tedious. But, part way through the evening, some older boy, wearing his vest, brogues and Oxford baggies, would go up to the DJ with his box of records, hand one over, asking that it got taken real good care of. And then, if you were lucky, you got to see some dancing like this...
And, yes okay, the drops and spins are pretty good, but the real artistry's in the feet. If this don't make you want to dance, nothing will...
grayb:
Fantastic!