Susan Whitall's piece on Wilson Pickett reminds me of how glad I am that Barry Gordy didn't get him. Atlantic gave WP the opportunity to showcase that raw talent in a way that the Motown formula might have toned down. And even though we love the Funk Brothers, there was something about that Stax / Muscle Shoals sound that electrified everyone who grabbed the microphone.

As anyone who ever witnessed Scott Regen's Motown Monday's at the Roostertail knows, there's nothing like a live performance when all the parts come together. One of my favorite recordings is the Monterey Pop LP with Otis Redding. It was Booker T and the MGs backing him up on Try a Little Tenderness, but the Stax influence is unmistakable. That show is on my top 10 "Wish I'd Been There" concert list. He was the last act of the evening and from the moment he rocketed on stage singing Shake, the crowd was in the palm of his hand. It's a testament to the producers that they left that final cut on the collection even though somebody bumped the reel-to-reel half way through the recording causing an instant of David Seville imperfection that nobody dared touch with a razor blade.

I can imagine Wilson working the same magic in a hundred different dives during his ride up and down the roller coaster of fame. The smoke, the beer, the sweat, all mixing with that intimate, claustrophobic ambiance of small barrooms packed well beyond the fire code. Thundering, primal energy vibrating out from the too-small stages crammed with keyboards, drums, amplifiers and the other tools of the trade. The fusion of blues and soul, giving a caesarian birth to funk, right before our ears.