On The Road with The Flamingos
"You shoulda seen the shit we used to wear," said Glenn looking over the top of his glasses. "This is the new stuff."
We dressed in the "executive lounge" (the stall of the men's room), staying behind as the old timers had gone to the motel to get ready.
David materialized on cue already dressed, bass in hand, a new mystery woman at his side. Jake, E.J. and the Twins entered through alley entrance, waiting "backstage" until they made their grand entrance to the stage from the kitchen door. Glenn, David and I hit the bandstand for our opening set, basically killing time. That's how it was night after night: two or three tunes up front from the band, then it was all about the vocals and rightfully so: Jake, E.J. and the Twins could hold the room spellbound, their haunting harmonies taking people back to an era where in a time of innocence. The soundtrack was both safe yet mysterious. Jake held the bass; E.J. sang lead and the Twins harmonized like they had been there from the beginning. More than once I got the chills listening to them work their magic. It was an all encompassing sound: the emotion of gospel, the harmonies of Jazz, the soul of R&B.
Whether in a bar in Brooklyn, a casino in Vegas or at the county fairgrounds they had the aura of neon, art deco, drive-thru's, sleek automobiles and the early days of television...when all was well with the world, or so we thought.
To be continued...