Stuck In A Funk

When you drive my particular Suzuki Esteem, you need to have some esteem of your own. It has a lot of cosmetic damage, the air conditioning doesn't work (I live in Las Vegas), the CV joints feel like they're about to rip out the sides of my wheels; it smells like cat piss, etc.

To make matters worse, the CD player doesn't work, and the radio receiver doesn't spit out any signal from iPods, either. So generally all inhabitants of the Esteem are going to be sweating out salt bricks, whilst their skin breathes a in a warm, rejuvenating piss mist. Luckily 88.1 has a very good format, especially on Thursdays, completely and utterly solving all the issues previously important with my whip.

"Classic Thursdays," is a lot of soul, funk, and R&B, and lord knows that I can always use some more of that in my life (and will probably be talking about it more often). One of the groups that I've been feeling recently is Cameo.

Cameo started out as the New York City Players in 1974, boasting 23 members. Their songs during this era are mostly funk smashes, but some of their stuff trends off into the disco range. Their style definitely Rick James'ed out during the 80s, too, as the band thinned out into 5 main members. In 1986, they released a classic that would later be sung in cacophonous tribute by dorky white guys in karaoke bars everywhere, "Word Up."

Here's two of my favorites of their earlier work: