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Just came across Robert Palmer's 1985 review of the Harlem Square Club live album. He interviews Gregg Geller about it - it's pretty banal why it was "lost" - but more impressively, Palmer recounts his own experience seeing Cooke in concert. I'm used to reading about these figures as if they're in the distant, DISTANT past, so it's kind of stunning whenever I come across a critic (albeit one who himself is now dead) who has actually encountered them in the flesh:
"I don't think I'll ever forget seeing him perform in Little Rock, Ark., a few months before the shooting. He put on an eloquent, teasing performance, singing like an angel and driving the women who were crowded around the stage into a frenzy. Near the end of the show, he peeled off one of his elegant little gloves (Michael Jackson and Prince did not start this glove business in pop music) and tossed it into the audience. It landed at the ringside table where I was sitting. A phalanx of ululating women came charging forward to claim the glove and pounced, sending table, chairs and listeners, including me, crashing to the floor under a pile of bodies. That was the sort of magnetism Sam Cooke exuded."
https://www.nytimes.com/1985/05/15/news/pop-life.html
― birdistheword, Tuesday, 9 March 2021 05:06 (three years ago) link