Nuff said, I’m out. Holla next week. Till then, enjoy the nightlife.
Technological advancements have once again made their mark on the antiquated structure known as the music industry.
Much ado is made of the hip-hop heydays. For a decade around the same span (say, 1985–1995), what was touching female R&B? Let’s talk about it.
In “Burn Hollywood Burn,” Chuck D sang, “Hollywood or would they not, make us all look bad like I knew they had!”
s you’re reading this column, chances are you’re doing one of three things: (1) traveling to do some last-minute shopping, (2) wrapping/unwrapping presents or (3) returning gifts for what you really want or what’s left.
Took a while for the get back to come, but eventually it did. Wayyyy back in the day, when I was the lil tag along, my fashion-forward cousins would inadvertently rub it in.
The names on the figurative marquee were a definite indication that the East Room at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. was the place to be.
On the initial announcement that “The Hippest Chick,” Erykah Badu was hosting the 2015 Soul Train Awards, hints of skepticism ran on and on.
I guess a telltale sign that you’ve reached a rarified level of success is when after a significant period of time, the moves you make still can elevate or perhaps alter the movements of your peers and, in the case of entertainment, your ardent supporters/fans.
Nov. 29 at 8 p.m., when the hippest trip in America pulls into the last station, marked for “Legends,” exiting the transport this year will be Kenneth Edmonds.
The first and only time I got to frequent New York City’s City Winery, it turned out to be one of the last performances of the late, great Bobby Womack.