10 October 2006

My World Is Empty Without You

On Sunday afternoon, I woke-up from my Nuit Blanche with a plaintive male voice in my head singing the words 'My world is empty without you'. This line comes back to my mind every now and then and I wanted to check in my music collection who it was from. But I just couldn't find it. It was driving me mad that I had no idea who was singing it, all the while the song kept playing in my head. My only clue was a 60's type of arrangement.
Obsessively, I searched the web but no names that came up were matching my idea. 'The Supremes' were mostly associated with the title song but I couldn't imagine them singing it. Yet, as I finally heard a sample, I realised it was the same song. Further along, I discovered a version from José Feliciano whom I never heard of before and I was relieved to see that it was the very object of my quest. But how and when and where I came across it in the first place, I've no idea. I'm surprised it stuck in my mind so strongly as well without listening to it regularly, if not at all. I'm even more surprised I never heard until now The Supremes' original version which is a total masterpiece and probably their best song. Both versions are completely different but equally seductive.
It's another signature from the magic Motown trio of authors Holland-Dozier-Holland.
In the same line of the Sixties sensual atmosphere but on the other side of the Atlantic, I discovered an Italian song, thanks to Salvatore, whose main phrase "Tu me faí girar come fossi une bambola" doesn't leave your mind quiet.
YouTube comes again to the rescue, offering us two TV treasures of the Sixties, a time when funky hairdos and kinky boots were made for singing. You can guess that they've been playing in loop on my computer for the last 3 days.




Comments:
Thanks to you, I browsed the local secondhand vinyl shop in search of this singer. The owner expressed his excitement for someone interested in his collection of José Feliciano records by keeping my credit card until I listened to his opinions. Such as José performing at the Cape Town jazz festival last year, where the clash of genres can be forgiven. After all, I must understand that he is a brilliant guitarist. And when that snot-nosed Will guy won Pop Idols with a heart-wrenching version of The Doors' Light My Fire, did anybody realise that he practised José's emotive interpretation?

I liked his opinions.

And his directions to the repair shop which can fix my 30 year old Telefunken Heidelberg record player.
 
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