Word: rhythm
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...true visual flair, nothing beats rhythm-and-blues. Snazzy-stepping, soul-singing performers like James Brown and Wilson Pickett sock it to the faithful with a furious abandon that shakes the halls on college campuses and urban temples like Harlem's Apollo Theater or Chicago's Regal. Of all the R-and-B cats, nobody steams up the place like Sam & Dave...
Rock eats its young. Ginger Baker is like a beast from another world, a world of pressed rats, warthogs and toads. The controlled madness of his rhythm is responsible for the group's incessant drive. Ginger Baker must have the world's fastest right hand, left hand, right foot and left foot. The mind-bending accuracy with which he clouts the dozen or so drums and cymbals around him seems impossible when one looks at his scarecrow body. His physique provides the reason for Cream's demise. If Baker lives another year it will be a miracle. His whole nervous...
...components into his unifying conception. Ronald Field's joyous choreography is so tightly linked to the staging, that it's hard to believe Prince did not devise the dances himself. Don Walker's orchestrations, a precise blend of Greek and Broadway instrumentation, flood the theatre with frenzies of rhythm, adding as much to the atmosphere as Boris Aronson's simplistically beautiful sets...
...necessarily prepared to vote that way in November) compared with 27% who claim the Republican label. In 1860 the party was in such horrendous shape that it held two conventions and ran two candidates against Lincoln. But by the '70s, the Democrats were united again. The rhythm of American politics invariably brings forward new issues and leaders to cope with them. Realignment within the party will create opportunities. Nothing is more essential for the party's long-term prospects...
...keeping with a widespread mood in the pop world, Beggars' Banquet turns back to the raw vitality of Negro rhythm-and-blues and the authentic simplicity of country music. This is home ground for the Stones and, among white groups, they are all but unbeatable on it. But the album still will not please listeners who lack a taste for musical graffiti. How could it, with songs like the slow, bluesy Stray Cat, addressed to a 15-year-old girl ("Bet your mama don't know you can bite like that")? Or the driving, syncopated Street Fighting...