From friend to GFM Sandra St. Victor… dig her words.

I don’t know if it was the timing or the Tanquery…

But something about the passing of the Ohio Players frontman, pushed something inside of me over the water’s edge. Having all been full up with the losses of icons and childhood heroes and all. I came up with these lyrics, and did my own spoken word over one of Mark de Clive-Lowe’s beats.

“Sugarfoot is Dead”

…and about how thangs used to be? …. what could’ve been or could be? …
Is there a connecting string, or secret ring, or should we be stringing ourselves along?
Who’s gon carry the torch… sweep the porch.. who’s gon cut a groove, bust a move or generally move thangs along

So we got this black president, but our black presence still ain’t felt
Oh sure, we can dance sing and play ball with the best of ‘em, but let us point out, anything that matters, what we get with is dealt

You go with what your heart tells you, but your feet fails you
Your mind races, your day paces, letting anger derail you
You know that sweet sticky thing you had your eye on back in the day?
In them skin tight britches, lighting a fire in yours?
She paid you no ‘tention cause you was dorky and underfed …
She struggling today with 3 kids and a mortgage alone, you could have her now for a song
but Sugarfoot is dead

“in them skin tight britches … in them skin tight britches … in them skin tight britches”
“shoop shoop shoop shoop shoop”

Just the very thought that your feet could be sweet makes me smile and wince at the next wave of heat.
Yeah I watched him bouncing that foot on them 16th beats, catching every nuance of rhythm of every growled twisted street, and versing ‘em up like hot collards and pig feets.
Things ain’t near bout how they used to be. My hearing is going, maybe I misread
…but yo did y’all hear that is Sugarfoot is dead?

“in them skin tight britches … in them skin tight britches … in them skin tight britches”
“shoop shoop shoop shoop shoop”

A ‘G’ damn sho ain’t grand no more, it don’t even pay the band no more
wrestling with angels, dancing with gnomes, putting my logic to bed
unlocking my freedom with skeletal bones, and damn if Sugarfoot ain’t dead

“in them skin tight britches … in them skin tight britches … in them skin tight britches”
“shoop shoop shoop shoop shoop”

Skipping along trying to sweet talk yourself out of the reality barreling ahead of you.
Only succeeding in ruining a delicious moment of wakeful awareness painful or not, instead of you … man, you know..
Whitney
Isaac
Etta
Dick Clark
Levon
Don C
Garry Shider
Jef Lee …
Donna Summer
Michael ..
Fontella
Bob Babbit
Donald BYRD
Chuck Brown
James Brown
even George Jefferson
and Sugarfoot are all….. “shoop shoop shoop shoop shoop”