
On Sunday night in Michigan, Mayer Hawthorne a.k.a. Haircut rocked a set for a packed house of folks with smiles on their faces. Hip-Hop ass dudes cheesing. Dusty-ass backpackers grinning ear to ear. Take-myself-so-seriously B-boys and B-girls doing the Twist. Moms, dads, grandmas, young and old, happy as hell. The Mayer himself wore an outfit that spoke to his reach, with a to-the-nines herringbone suit capped off with Crayola-tone Adidas.
And there I was, front and center, doing the Mashed Potato like my life depended on it. Like it was 1967. Like it was Hitsville, U.S.A. all over again. And all I could think of was Lamont Dozier. Read the rest of this entry »