Blues and fusion offers it’s own kick of long solos filled with hot licks. But in all of this, there is that groove and it punches slow like a mule. No one threw those punches better than Betty Davis.
Slow Like A Mule by Michael Doyle A raven watches from atop a tree The funk queen's rediscovered mystery Critics speak in hushed tomes of reverence As they expound on her vivid difference She was born deep into the fear Long before the enigma would disappear Slapping it down into matched spaces As every note found its right place Though her music was inclusive Her choice became to become reclusive Disenchanted with the glaring starlight Her heart kept raw on those steamy nights Long legged boogie walked up the road Offering more than her legends told Neither presenting as polished or genteel Her gift was found in keeping it real Showing the full truth of self liberation Her soul sacrifice was its own celebration A loose goose bent on getting it on She's gonna do it until her mojo is gone Life lived heavier than deep Her whiskey courage just wouldn't keep Sirens ring out with the falling light Betty Davis reigned as queen of the night (c) June 14, 2020 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
