verse the twelfth flight … musing concrete crusades in the symphonic key of luminous Street Life … let’s cellar said protostellar rhyme — raise a glass, and enjoi …

“Street Life” — Crusaders (Street Life, 1979)

Writers : Will Jennings, Joe Sample · · Producers : Wilton Felder, Stix Hooper, Sample · · Vocals : Randy Crawford

:: Primer ::

:: So, the audiobiographical backstory with this beautiful tune … brass tacks, in not so many inferences: jackie brown, was/is the sonic genomic genesis herein ( iirc ) … way in the back when, roundabout ten or eleven … another musical recording residing in the auric genomic’s subconscious alcoves, only to be exhumed in an otherwise random recent revisitation … the film must have been airing at some point in the not so distant past, and once the needle dropped on this cadent crusade — just golden airwaves of groove nostalgia … and so, let’s cellar said rhythmic ::

:: On the Palatte · Profile ::

:: On the front … syncopated melodies prelude a scene … down beat rulers serenade a sax, saunter the keys, brush cymballic, chirapsia the strings … orchestral echoes from a lonesome metropolis’ star-gazing pit croon denizen symphonies to the rising sunset over concrete horizons …

I still hang around,
neither lost nor found
Hear the lonely sound,
of music in the night
Nights are always bright;
That’s all that’s left for me …

on the wings of cinematic soliloquy, our delphic chansonnière serves as chaperone into cosmicpolitan limelight nightlife … a flagstone poetess defines our pathway to future firmament … all in street sonnet stride … and so, from gutter struck gotham into the echelon of angels, we ride …

trumpets cue the curtains, and it feels like entering an urban fantasy’s establishing shot … as limber percussion paces strident courtship with an equally lithesome bassline … sonic floodlights wash the scape in rhythmic bedrock … and now, for some lyrical exposition on this stylistic narrative

I play the street life
Because there’s no place I can go
Street life
It’s the only life I know
Street life
And there’s a thousand cards to play
Street life
Until you play your life away

ease from ellipsoidal, transit into followspot … pull focus on troubadour center stage — lights up, brights up : the compass refrain is risen, drop the leitmotif of mirror ball monology

You let the people see
Just who you wanna be
And every night you shine
Just like a superstar
The type of life that’s played
A temptin’ masquerade
You dress you walk, you talk
You’re who you think you are

as the record unfurls into its seemingly perpetual evolution, it all feels so panoramic in its unyielding precision … the conspicuous mystery of stellar terrestrial subculture’s living history … crafting a sixth sense of self from cosmic debris … willing wonder into the world by way of quite literal make believe

Street life
You can run away from time
Street life
For a nickel, for a dime
Street life
But you better not get old
Street life
Or you’re gonna feel the cold

… where karma is currency in a time and space void of twain … where you walk the talk of a secret language boasting a halo crown money can’t buy … where music is the fountain of youth’s everflowing elixir

There’s always love for sale
A grown up fairy tale
Prince charming always smiles
Behind a silver spoon
And if you keep it young
Your song is always sung
Your love will pay your way beneath the silver moon

the high flare low res protostellar subterra disco lineage … the spectacular crucible of metaphysical beings maneuvering through a material world … the record becomes scene muses’ theme music … the lush verite underscore of subpop civilization’s overture … it all just feels so very cosmic nostalgia of the eternal present vignette cinematic

I play the street life
Because there’s no place I can go
Street life
It’s the only life I know
Street life
There’s a thousand cards to play
Street life
Until you play your life away
Oh !

and so inherently intrinsically canonically soul of bonafide disco … strutting into the mid-palatte on the crest of the four minute mark we find our signature tempo in the extended instrumental … that ineffable stride … simultaneous rhythm and melody bridging the aural realms of jazz, r&b, funk, pop, and orchestral symphony … and here, disco takes on an innately spiritual form … elevating to its native celestial plane … the meditative state of palatial instrumentation … a melange of sounds as boundless as any city scape’s constituent populous … and in context of the eternal youth impressed throughout the lyrics, it feels unspoken manifesto … the true function of this musical form …

disco music, in its characterizing continuous composition — its extended mix genomic — exists to edify temporal abundance in a world of manufactured scarcity … creating a scopic wrinkle in the time-space continuum for marginalized gotham angels to discover their place, and develop their purpose, in and of this star borne earth bound community … and to endeavor the journey in its entirety for score and solidarity … universal rhythm of divine love’s most luminous signature frequency … and all of this resides somewhere in the harmonious extent of our meditative mid-palatte’s lyricless bridge … the tempo of telepathy

and so … the goldschläger finish brings us back to the genesis premise, from a place of understated, if not deceptively simple, sagacious levity …

[ Outro ]
Street life,
street life,
street life,
…
oh street life…

oh the life and rhymes, the trials and shine, of our native dancefloor denizens … those womb to tomb to midheaven bloom dancers forever belonging to the universe, their forever choreographer and perennial home … these light bodies traversing intergalactic boulevards keeping record of lives lived between the cosmos and concrete ::

:: Pairings ::

:: So, this seven course sampling reels in the conceptual realm of … disco denizen bildungsroman cinema … the underscore of urban world’s stellar citizenry … people on the protostellar precipice of metamorphosis … on the brink of breaking through their carbon chrysalis … dreaming a scene within a scheme … an underscore soundtrack exploring routes and records capturing crystalline crescendos into actualized terra nova … or, something to said soundtrek of the celestial sapien effect …

· ·

Rhyme Cellar : Street Life : Pair’d Playlist :: · “Wishing on a Star” – Rose Royce · : · “Oh the Sunn!” ft. Perry Farrell – The Avalanches · : · “Lost in Music” – Sister Sledge · : · “Street Life” – The Crusaders · : · “As” – Stevie Wonder · : · “Boogie Wonderland” ft. The Emotions – Earth, Wind and Fire · : · “Stars” – Sylvester ·

· ·

rose, royce … Wishing On A Star … crooning into fruition full bloom balladry … this tune … the build … those heavenly strings, seraphic wings ferrying hymnal orison to a pantheon’s altar at the undulating pace of syncopated percussive ebbs and flows … i just love this tune for its energy, and it felt paramount prelude to this particular street symphonic pairing interplay … onward

Oh The Sunn! the avalanches and perry farrell … when this one shuffled up on a sampling scouting session, i just knew … the immediacy of synchrony on tympanic impact just —

The entertaining lights
When the sky and stars at night
Fashioned by divine design

Divine
Divine designer
Under lights in the sky

No, we don’t understand
Why they treat us so mean
No, we don’t understand it at all
But we’ll do our best
To pass the test
And we’ll never turn back no more (The big, big, beautiful lights)

The music of light
That’s our song, love is our song (oh)
It’s what we’ve known all along
Love is our song
Big, big, beautiful light
Love is so powerful
Love is so strong
Love is our right
But we’ve known all along

proper match fit … the surface distortion feels cosmic debris in the key of solar runoff … and perry just brings that tonal radiant resilience of a man promised land bound, yet caught in the caprice of this lifetime’s lesson plan … proclaiming karmic curriculum for the sake of all comrades within a panorama’s earshot … just wondrous, the avalanche of ascension … onward

so, Lost In Music … sister sledge … i mean : * looks at the material * … really self-explanatory this one … but / and in context of act the third in a seven act narrative structure … bildungsroman character arc … cosmicpolitan muse trouper mythosophy … once one has voiced their invocation to the celestial, and said aubade responds in revelation, so our protagonist must return from their own tabor and put into practice the living sacrifice of love supreme here on this mortal plane … but / and how does one go about such a task, to edify solidarity within the fragments of modern humanity … well, music, as the progeny of universal harmony, often surfaces as a natural medium and modus operandi … and so, to circle back into the immediate … our disco denizen surrenders to the divine providence of universal accord, and so bows to the beautiful burden of terrene versifier … lost in music, found in universal rhythm … for we, the transmundane family … onward

into the crusades of our center stage signature piece … Street Life … our synoptic opera of asphalt avowal … onward

from avowal to actualization, from contention to cosmic reciprocity, from street life to love eternal … welcome to stevie’s wonderland … As … the hymnal groove of gospel proof :

We all know sometimes life’s hates and troubles
Can make you wish you were born in another time and space
But you can bet your life times that and twice its double
That God knew exactly where he wanted you to be placed
So make sure when you say you’re in it, but not of it
You’re not helping to make this earth a place sometimes called Hell
Change your words into truth and then change that truth into love
And maybe our children’s grandchildren
And their great-grandchildren will tell
I’ll be loving you

… communion truth … alleluia, onward

penultimate propulsion into elation celebration with elemental eminence … earth, wind and fire’s Boogie Wonderland … kaleidoscopic contemplation in kinetic bombast of bittersweet revelry … for every triumph, so endeavors a trial …

Midnight creeps so slowly into hearts of men
Who need more than they get
Daylight deals a bad hand to a woman
Who has laid too many bets

The mirror stares you in the face
And says “Baby, uh, uh, it don’t work”

for every summit, a severance … and yet this odyssey is predicated upon that very key to, in and of immortality — not the circumvention of apparent expiration, but rather the transcendence and return: to surmount in surrender, and rejoin to reveal said principle in contemporaneous practice of alchemical caprice …

You say your prayers though you don’t care
You dance and shake the hurt

Sound fly through the night
I chase my vinyl dreams to boogie wonderland

All the records are playing and my heart keeps saying (Oh)
“Boogie wonderland, wonderland”

for the kids, for the culture … education is the motivation … music is the locomotive channel … so, to bring it back to sixth act cosmicpolitan bildungsroman context … said sixth cyclical orbit scene of evolution revolution in our narrative unfolding reiterates, in record revelation, the locus : liberation in transmutation, and the manifest majesty of active make-believe … here, our protagonist revisits a familiar setting, the homespun haunts of status quo modernity, in all its aversions and vices … and yet, the concrete feels more comet, the asphalt feels asteroid, the graffiti feels more glitter bombastic, the blacktop resounds with elastic boogie … street life emanates studio light, the sensory frustration pivots frensel … it’s ( in all its itsness ) all in your head, the cinema of your soul, and with that imagination passport transport your techniprismacolor dream into the scene … and when you capture that consciousness, heaven on earth is precisely where you tread … here, empyrean’s pseudonym is boogie wonderland … onward

and so, our auroral sylvester … Stars … in natural transit, onward ever upward in the rhythmic key of godspeed, our dénouement delivers astral harmony …

You are here in this time and space
Cosmic energy – well, it’s in your smiling face

You are a star
Everybody is one
You are a star
And you only happen once

Take a look around, tell me what you see
Sisters and brothers, feeling high, feeling free
Can you lighten up the sky, stars glimmering
Dancing in the night, stars shimmering

You are a star, that’s shining
So brightly
You are a star, shining
Endlessly

… and so, in a momentous blink of bodhi epiphany: stelliform metamorphosis … oh to be one with the sun, in communion with cosmicpolitan kinship camaraderie, as the very identic luminary to which our protagonist professed a synergist wish at this apologue saga’s genesis augury … how magic the divine mystery of seraphic make believe … and this life, its astraterrestrial ouroboros … and scene ::

:: Impressions ::

:: First and lasting impressions herein … just, anthem aria of gotham angeles, is how it feels … truly and genuinely a cosmicpolitan crusade by way of urban fantastic symphony … the chronicle canticle of disco denizen luminary eternal spirit … a soundtrek saga of stellar soul ::