Big Joe Turner – New Year’s Eve, 1983. Club Lingerie

With crutches supporting his giant frame –
The inevitable ravaging of age –
In a slow but steady swing,
Big Joe Turner took the stage.

A hipper-than-hip Hollywood club
Is a long, long way from K.C. town
Where Mr. Turner stoked that fire
Layin’  his solid boogie down.

On a stage where white kids commonly droned
In skin tight jeans and tennis shoes,
Big Joe, sportin’  high waist pants,
Leaned in to the mic to shout the blues.

Like a king on his throne, he took command.
His voice – a  roar from the pit of the soul.
He moaned , he pleaded , he  testified
As the whole joint shook, and rattled, and rolled.

With wicked wink he delivered the line ’bout a
A one-eyed cat in a seafood store
As the  band dug in with a fat back groove,
And the crowd turned wild out on the floor.

With every note he gathered a strength
That rose beyond mere second wind.
The decades seemed to melt away.
The old man became young again.

Oh, we whirled with joy into a brand new year
On the leather of our dancin’ shoes
When Big Joe Turner took the stage,
Closed his eyes, and sang the blues.