Audio Files: Cornelius, James, Riley and Castor

Winston Riley was one of many artists we lost tragically in recent weeks. Excuse me if I make a big deal about it.

Within the past two weeks the musical genres of Funk, Soul, Reggae and R&B lost some notable figures. All figures that were introduced to me at a very young age. Below is a tribute to their music and a few words as to how Etta James, Winston Riley, Don Cornelius and Jimmy Castor -- have all made an impact on my life in some odd way.

Winston Riley [5-14-1943 to 1-19-2012]:

Out of everyone I write about in this post, Winston Riley will probably be the most obscure. He's more so known as a the guy who launched the careers of Boris Gardiner, Duke Reid and of course Buju Banton.

When I was in my last couple years of high school I knew a lot of stoners who liked a lot of pop-reggae and it, unfortunately, painted my broad impression of the music. It would be years later that I'd hear college radio djs in Columbus talk about the history of Ska, Rocksteady and Dancehall. Riley's name always came up.

Thank you Winston Riley. It took a long time to view reggae music and it's many derivations as anything but something pot smokers superficially connected to. Because of Riley's work I see the joy and the culture, now more than ever.

Etta James [1-25-1938 to 1-20-2012]:

When I was a child there was Mahalia Jackson and Etta James. My mother, my aunts and my grandmother all played their records. Just about every occasion called for Tell Mama or, of course, At Last. I'd grow to hate At Last. If you're from my neighborhood you watched a ton of local sports and just as many talent shows. In every talent show, there would be a handful of ladies who think they have the soul to sing At Last. Unfortunately, more often then not, this was never the case.

But every now and again, you'd get a mousey church girl that no one would expect to belt out notes that James so effortlessly laid the groundwork for. I'd grow to appreciate the music and the troubled life James came from. We all ain't perfect, and Etta James made us realize -- with every note she sung, that imperfection is quite all right. Thank you Etta.

Don Cornelius [9-27-1936 to 2-1-2012]:

Heavy stuff indeed. I could have posted a lot of clips about Soul Train, but this one represented a lot of what I saw on VHS tapes as a kid, and in reruns in my teenage years. Soul Train, for me, represented every kid who was shy, didn't have a ton a Valentine's Day cards, but still liked dancing. Even when you were by yourself in front of a mirror, joyously "practicing moves." This clip above represented what Soul Train meant to a community of people who were united by music and dance. It also represents one of many interviews with Don Cornelius that was just plain weird to witness [The dynamic of James Brown leaning over to a sitting Cornelius followed by a 19-year-old Al Sharpton. Wow].

News is still trickling out about Cornelius' suicide. Apparently he suffered from Alzheimer's and dementia and opted to take his own life. You'll never hear me say anything negative about one of the key people responsible for me, to this day, dancing in front of a mirror. Practicing moves. Thank you Don.

Jimmy Castor [6-23-1940 to 1-17-2012]

Jimmy Castor is last on this list for a reason. Jimmy Castor's When was the first album I heard as a bboy. And by that, I mean it was the first album I wasn't blindly trying to hit a beat to. I wasn't trying to spin on my head or do the fastest footwork. When was the first album I heard at a bboy competition and I literally sat down and listened to it. 

This one song made me value a dance form and the culture it sprang from. And there are a lot of people within the bboy and hiphop community that just like funk music. When was the first record I wanted to know the engineer, the album art illustrator and all the geeky things that make you fall down that rabbit hole.

What I heard? When I listened to this really aggressive guitar and snare was ... everything. I heard every note, every high pitched shrill from Jimmy. I heard Etta and Riley. I heard struggle. I heard progress. This one song made me value my upbringing and every cup of Hamburger Helper I had to eat. Thank you Jimmy. 

Thanks for reading.