Every now and then I like to talk about what I have deemed “inappropriate ghetto moments.” These moments occur when I have the windows open in my car, the stereo turned up really loud (there isn’t any other volume), and some really bad song is playing as I’m driving through the ghetto.

Now, this doesn’t happen often. Most of the time I drive straight home from work and I don’t pass through the ghetto at all. But on days where I stop to get some food on the way home, I have to take the long way back and, well, there goes the neighborhood. We’re definitely talking a lot of 40 oz. bottles of fine malt liquor, one or two crack whores, and maybe someone starting a fight outside of the Fried Chicken Shack. Oh, and the homeless man with the broken right leg. Yet even with this sunny description of the area, my fat belly often yearns for a double cheeseburger from some grease pit, so I risk it.

Anyway, the story is not about the food I eat but rather the songs coming out of my speakers. The first time I ever spoke about “inappropriate ghetto moments” came as I was riding down the street and a group of thugs were stollin’ along the sidewalk while I was playing El DeBarge’s “Who’s Johnny.” (Yes, I realize this song comes up all the time in my posts. I swear I listen to it way more than anyone should.) Another time was a 12-inch remix of “Electric Youth” by Debbie Gibson. And it usually doesn’t hit me right away either. After a half dozen people give me weird looks, it’s only then do I realize the reason and stop singing along.

So how do I top Debbie Gibson, you ask? Well, I think I did last week. I had four dudes walking down the yellow line in the middle of the street as I pulled up blasting the very beginning of “Ears of Tin” by Jethro Tull, off their Rock Island record. If you don’t know this song, it starts off with a fierce flute passage (typical), and of course nothing says “I’m a big pussy, please carjack me” like Riverdance-sounding bullshit bumpin’ outta da hooptie. And this time I was going through the ghetto for nothing more than a sweet tea — if I’m going to die it’d better not be while listening to Jethro Tull and sipping sweet tea. That’s far less cool than my plan of dying when I’m 90 during an orgy with barely legal teens after realizing my Levitra-induced erection has lasted more than the four hours they warned me about on the commercial. This, of course, only holds true if they don’t create some kind of bionic penis in the next 60 years. If they do, then maybe death by Tull will have to do.

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DOWNLOAD THE FULL MIX HERE

As Prince said, “I think I wanna dance!” Sometimes in the weekly Mix Six shuffle it’s easy to forget the lasting impact of disco on the culture at large. Go to any wedding reception where there’s a DJ who can read the crowd, and soon enough you’ll be hearing some of the tunes featured here.

Disco was certainly loved — but also hated — when it originally surfaced in the popular culture of the ’70s. Many were praying that disco would ultimately implode and go away … forever!

Wrong! Hahaha.

“Jupiter,” Earth, Wind & Fire

The horns, the harmony, and the badass funk of it all. There’s just something about these EWF albums of the mid- to late ’70s that’s pure funk gold. Can I get a “Hell, yeah?” (more…)

Berry Gordy is a powerful man. Not only did he found Motown Records, building a musical empire that allowed blacks to crossover into what had pretty much been a white-controlled music industry, but almost as amazing, he was able to convince a young Diana Ross that her crap doesn’t stink, and she has not deviated from that belief one iota over the past 45 or so years. In an industry of big egos, the one belonging to Miss Ross (remember, she must be addressed as such or you will be thrown out — and don’t you dare look her in the eyes!) is likely the biggest, and she has wielded it to not only obtain her huge success, but to build herself into a prick so immense that it would make porn stars gasp. Here are but a few examples of Miss Ross in action:

• While neither the best singer nor most attractive member of the Supremes, Ross did have one important thing up her sleeve, namely, Mr. Gordy’s penis. After unsuccessfully pursuing Smokey Robinson, Ross set her sights on (the married and 15 years older) Gordy. As the mistress of Motown’s founder, she was able to gain full power over the group, becoming its lead singer, getting its name changed to Diana Ross & the Supremes, and upstaging the other members, eventually leaving and employing the full power of the Motown promotional machine behind her solo career, while the Supremes were left to sputter out slowly over the course of the ’70s. Ross, meanwhile, ended up bearing Gordy’s child in 1971, but did not publicly acknowledge who the real father was for 22 years, until she released and was promoting her autobiography (which actually didn’t mention who the father was, either).

• Not only did she upstage the other Supremes throughout their career, she upstaged former Supreme Florence Ballard at Ballard’s own funeral. She went up to the front of the church during the service, grabbed the mike, and announced that she and Mary Wilson were going to lead a silent prayer. Wilson at the time was in a back pew and had no idea what was going on.

• In 1983, she agreed to do a one-off Supremes reunion with Wilson and Cindy Birdsong (Ballard’s replacement in the group) for the Motown 25 TV special. But Ross said she would only do one song instead of the requested four, and refused to practice for it. She also wanted the other two women behind her throughout the song, and when Wilson, who wasn’t informed of Ross’ demand, tried to step forward during the performance, Ross shoved her (this part was cut out of the final broadcast).

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