| My Turn: by
Albert Van Peebles |
I’ve had a hard
life. Each and every time I’ve been within reach
of a big break, someone has always been there to snatch
it out of my hand. Luckily, I have an unshakable faith
in the Lord or believe me, I would have gone crazy
years ago.
Take for instance Detroit, 1965. I was working for
the circus at the time, running errands - getting
drinks, smokes - for our “specialty players”
which was what we called the circus freaks to their
faces. At the time, there was a gal named Sally, our
bearded lady. She was a big, beautiful hunk of woman,
except for her mustache, and could you believe it
was my job to trim it. Long story short, I made up
this song for her. I called it “Mustache Sally.”
Used to hum it to her every night before she’d
go out on stage. |
|
 |
Word got around that I had this song. Detroit in those
days was the kingdom of soul, churning out hit record
after hit record. A man by the name of Sir Mack Rice shows
up at the circus and asks me to sing it for him. I didn’t
know who the man was, to be honest, so I goes and sings
it for him. Guess what? He turns out to be a songwriter
for Wilson Pickett. Rice changes the lyrics just enough
to where he don’t have to pay me a cent of royalties.
How about that? Shit.
I Waste People’s Time: by Steve
Smith  |
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