Toronto Blues Society: John’s Blues Picks Nov. 2015 – Miss Angel with Shawn Kellerman
Miss Angel with Shawn Kellerman Down In Mississippi (Electro-Fi)
Miss Angel Brown continues to honour the legacy of her late husband Mel Brown, supervising the Mel Brown Award and organizing the festival in his honour in Mississippi scheduled for next spring. Her own career continues too, with this new disc featuring Shawn Kellerman on guitar and as producer. Kellerman was an early protégé of Mel’s and was the first recipient of the Award. The apprenticeship led to his joining Bobby Rush’s band and later Lucky Peterson’s, who guests on one song here. The star of the show, though, is Miss Angel, who has been preparing this disc for a long time. Kellerman plays Mel’s Gibson Super 400 and adds bass & drums where needed. Matt Weidinger plays keys.
Miss Angel’s growth as a blues singer is immediately evident on “Down In Mississippi”. It’s just guitar and piano behind Miss Angel here, nothing fancy, a downhome blues that’ll have you wishing you were in Clarksdale with her. But if you were in Clarksdale you would hear a much more comtemporary sound in the clubs and that’s what Miss Angel offers up for the next few songs. “Say It Ain’t So”, “Honey Doo” & “I Like Your Soul” are all excellent modern blues. “It’s A Bad Night To Be A Stray Dog” is one of Fruteland Jackson’s unconventional songs, taking Miss Angel out of her comfort zone but she handles it very well indeed. It appears to be a song that’s been in reserve a while, with Mel Brown himself on acoustic guitar & piano. The gospel standard “Thank You Lord” is up next with a full quartet backing her. It sounds like it might have been recorded in a church in Clarksdale. Lucky Peterson takes over on keys for another gospel song, “This Train”, perhaps from the same Clarksdale session. Tennessee Ernie Ford’s “16 Tons” gets a nicely bluesy treatment with a fine vocal. The disc ends as it began with a fine downhome blues, “Blues in the Alley”, written by Miss Angel.
This album is going to be treated a little differently by Electro-Fi: you’ll have to get the actual CD from Miss Angel herself or from www.electrofi.com. Otherwise it will only be available as a download from iTunes, it will not be in retail stores.
Original link here.
‘Music is the healer’: Miss Angel releases tribute to Mel Brown
Waterloo Region Record
By Terry Pender
KITCHENER — Miss Angel found the tape safely tucked inside a box — a high-quality recording of her singing a classic blues tune while her late husband, Mel Brown, played guitar over his pre-recorded tracks for bass, drums and keyboards.
For decades the two musicians collaborated like this — first Mel would lay down all the tracks. Then he called Angel into their music room to sing while he played guitar. Every house the couple shared, from Nashville, Tenn., to Austin, Texas, to Kitchener, had a room where Mel kept his instruments and recording gear — the music room.
This time, the music room was located in 56 Cameron St. N. near downtown Kitchener, and the song — "It's a Bad Night to be a Stray Dog" — was written by the Chicago-based acoustic blues great Fruitland Jackson. While Mel was famous for his guitar skills, he played keyboards, upright-and-electric bass and drums like a pro.
Angel included this track on the new CD, "Down in Mississippi," the newly released tribute to her late husband, considered to be one of the best soul-funk-jazz-blues fusion guitar players to ever come out of Mississippi.
The CD release party is scheduled for Sept. 13 at Bobby O'Brien's.
The CD was produced by Shawn Kellerman, the guitar ace who was mentored by Mel and is currently the music director for Dallas-based bluesman Lucky Peterson. Kellerman also played the Chitlin Circuit with Bobby Rush. His explosive guitar playing is one of the defining sounds of the Kitchener Blues Festival.
On this new CD, Kellerman plays the same Super 400 Gibson guitar that was Mel's main instrument for decades. Kellerman has had custody of the guitar since shortly after Mel died in March 2009.
The CD is an artistic and emotional milestone for Angel. Until now, she and Mel worked together when Angel was making a CD. The past six years have been hard as she worked to find her way without Mel — her partner, husband, teacher and collaborator of 34 years. Mel was playing guitar for Bobby (Blue) Bland when he met Miss Angel in the parking lot outside a concert venue in Denver, Colo., in 1974.
She moved back to her beloved Mississippi twice since Mel passed. Both times she returned to Kitchener where she has a loyal fan base, and a cadre of some of the best blues musicians in the country.
"Indescribable, and not all good," Miss Angel says to describe the years since Mel died. "It's been rough in more ways than one. But that was yesterday, so we just go from today. It's all right now."
For a long time she could not work. The joy that fuelled her singing and writing was smothered in grief. One Sunday during the late summer of 2009, Miss Angel headed for the Boathouse in Victoria Park, the live music venue she and Mel played many times. This time Miss Angel was going to hear the blues band Raoul and the Big Time.
Raoul Bhaneja, who fronts the band, asked Miss Angel to get up and sing. She waffled, and later Bhaneja came up to her table and spoke quietly to her: "You know Miss Angel, music is the healer."
"And he walked off," Miss Angel says. "I thought about it, and the next thing you know I am going up to sing with him. And that played in my head and helped me a lot. I don't know if I ever told him that."
In the late fall of 2011 and during the winter of 2012, she started working in earnest on the new CD. Toronto-based Electro-Fi Records, which recorded and produced several CDs by Mel, quickly agreed to release and distribute Miss Angel's latest.
Lucky Peterson plays the Hammond B3 on a new take of the traditional "This Train." Matt Weidinger, one of the region's most popular young musicians, plays Hammond B3, electric piano, Clavinet and organ bass on "16 Tons."
Two of Miss Angel's sisters — Josie Murry and Ann Bukhalter — came to Kitchener for a recording session in the winter of 2012. They brought along two of Miss Angel's nieces — Sonja Jordan and Alexis McCrary.
All four sing background vocals on two tracks — "This Train" and "Thank You Lord." Mel and Miss Angel made regular trips to Mississippi, and that's when Mel got to know Bukhalter.
"She sings gospel music, sings in the church, and when Mel would go down there he would play with them," Miss Angel says. "I guess he liked her style because he asked her to write a song."
When Miss Angel and Kellerman started collaborating on the new CD, some of the grief returned.
"Some of it was hard to sing because it sounds so much like Mel, and the licks sound exactly like what Mel would put in," Miss Angel says.
This is Angel's third CD. The first, If You Could See, was released in the late 1990s. The second, That's the Way I Tumble, followed in the early 2000s. Since Mel died, Miss Angel and the Home Wreckers have opened the main stage of the Kitchener Blues Festival every year with a Friday evening show.
Miss Angel says none of this would have happened without Mel teaching her to sing the blues.
Born Lillie Murry in 1952 in Noxubee County, Miss., she grew up on her grandparent's rustic farm just off Highway 388, not far from the Alabama border. There was one light in the tin-topped farmhouse. There was one electrical outlet for the refrigerator. Everyone used an outhouse, and water was hand-pumped from a well.
The grandparents, Aytch and Lillie, raised Angel, her sisters, Josie and Ann, and brother Joe. To this day, Miss Angel has the fondest memories of life on the farm, attending class in a one-room school and going for Sunday visits in the family vehicle — a horse-drawn wagon.
Miss Angel visited the farm regularly as long as her grandparents were alive.
Her parents left the naked racism of the South for industrial jobs in northern cities. They were part of what came to be called The Great Migration — five million African Americans who fled the Deep South for Chicago, Detroit, Cleveland, Buffalo, Pittsburgh and New York between 1914 and 1975.
In 1968, Angel had not seen her parents in more than a decade when she joined them in Cleveland. She had several brothers and sisters she had never met either.
Miss Angel's parents wanted her to babysit her little brothers and sisters, and keep house. She had other ideas. They continually clashed. In the summer of 1973, Miss Angel fled to Denver, where she met Mel.
She had just turned 21. Mel was 33, and touring with Bobby (Blue) Bland. They hooked up that night, and Miss Angel went on the road with Mel in the tour buses. With only a few short breaks, they were together until Mel died in Kitchener in 2009.
By 1974, they were living in Nashville. Mel was a much in demand session player. He played and recorded with Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, Jesse Coulter, Tompall Glaser, Van Morrison, John Lee Hooker, B.B. King, among many others.
He was back on the road with Bobby (Blue) Bland when the tour buses rolled into Austin, Texas, in 1982. They played the legendary blues club Antone's on 6th Street. The club was started in 1975 by the Louisiana entrepreneur Clifford Antone.
It became the most famous blues club in the world, and a critical part of Austin branding itself as the Live Music Capital of the World.
Antone asked Mel to stay and be part of the house band. Mel and Angel settled into a house on Honeybee Bend in South Austin. That was in 1982, and Mel set up a music room in their house.
One day he laid down the drums, keyboards and bass tracks for the B.B. King song "Rock Me Baby." For the first time, Mel called Miss Angel into the room, and convinced her to sing while he played guitar. That was the beginning of their musical collaboration.
Angel studied early childhood education in Austin. She worked in a daycare centre and as a teaching assistant. The children gave her the name she uses to this day — Miss Angel. But Antone's was at the centre of their social and economic lives.
One night, Mel brought Miss Angel onto the stage at Antone's. She sang two songs. It would be more than 10 years before she released her first CD, but Miss Angel was hooked on the music business. One of the songs she sang that night was "Rolling and Tumbling," a Robert Johnson classic straight out of the 1920s Mississippi Delta.
When Mel and Miss Angel married in July 1989, the ceremony was in Susan Antone's living room. Clifford Antone gave Miss Angel away. The reception was held at Antone's.
In less than six months, Mel would be hired by Glenn Smith to anchor the house band at Pop the Gator on Queen Street South in Kitchener. When driving north to Kitchener in December 1989, Mel had to drop Miss Angel at her grandparents' farm in Mississippi.
She was not crazy about the idea of living permanently in a small, northern city. It would be two years before she moved up here for good.
"My grandpa, he died in '92, yeah, Feb. 14, and then I came here Oct. 19 of '92," Miss Angel says. "I couldn't leave my grandma right away. We had to do some getting-over stuff. So I came in October."
What Mel did for Miss Angel, he did again with several protégés in Kitchener, including Kellerman, Julian Fauth, Steve Strongman and others. Strongman and Fauth have won Juno Awards for their blues. Kellerman travels the world with Lucky Peterson's band.
The couple from Mississippi helped grow the Kitchener blues scene into the best in Canada, says Andrew Galloway, the founder of head of Electro-Fi Records.
Original link here.
For The Love Of It...
“It never occurred to me that I was a singer. I used to sing, but when I thought about singers, I thought about people like Aretha Franklin. I just happened into it.”
Name: Miss Angel Brown
Occupation: Blues Musician
Location: Kitchener, Ontario
For Mississippi born Miss Angel Brown, practising music was never an option, a hobby, or even a chore. Music was a lifestyle. Surrounded by it in her upbringing, Miss Angel has no recollection of a life without it: “there was singing at church, singing at school, singing at the front porch after dinner at night.” It was no surprise then that when Mel Brown started wailing his Super 400 Gibson guitar, Miss Angel was hooked and agreed to go on tour with him in the summer of 1975. This decision paved the path for the rest of her life.
When Miss Angel met him that day, she introduced herself to a lifetime of love and music. In 1982, when the pair lived in Austin, Texas, Miss Angel finally found her voice. While doing the dishes one night, she looked at her husband who was recording B.B. King’s “Rock Me Baby” and said, “you should sing the song like this […]”. Mel was shocked by her voice and didn’t waste another minute. He instantly asked her to do the vocals on his album. This decision linked them together not only as lovers but as musicians and lifetime partners.
After settling with Mel in Kitchener Ontario, Miss Angel recorded her debut album; “If You Could See” and later her critically acclaimed album; “That’s The Way I Tumble”. Although the world lost a blues legend in 2009 when Mel passed away, Miss Angel still kept singing and continues to do so today.
Miss Angel is a truly beautiful, strong and fearless woman with the voice of soul. For more information or to watch her perform live, go to www.missangelbrown.com.
Photography: Jonathan Bielaski (www.jonathanbielaski.com)
Production & Writing: Gabriela Soares (www.gsmakeupart.com)
Original link here.
That's the way I tumble
Originally published in www.mostwaterlooregion.com on June 22, 2011
When Miss Angel Brown speaks, her words pack punch.
Maybe it’s that drawl of the deep south.
“Yeahhh,” she says, and a single syllable seems 10 letters long.
Maybe it’s the way her words cut to the chase. Sparse, clear, like lyrics to a song.
“I’m not a public speaker,” Miss Angel says, stepping to the podium on May 15 to accept the honour as her late husband, Mel Brown, Kitchener’s beloved godfather of blues, is inducted into the Waterloo Region Hall of Fame.
“I’m a public singer, not a public speaker, and I’ve got to go to work.”
It’s a Sunday afternoon, and Sunday afternoons always find Miss Angel celebrating the blues onstage at The Boathouse in Victoria Park, a tradition started years earlier by her husband.
“There’s two things I think Mel would appreciate today,” Angel says. “He would appreciate being inducted to the Hall of Fame, and he also would appreciate me getting out of here and going to work.”
With that she hands the microphone to Andrew Galloway, president of Electro-Fi Records, to offer further perspective on the musical giant whose legacy in this region was firmly established long before his death in March 2009. As Galloway speaks, Miss Angel’s band, The Homewreckers, is already onstage warming up the Boathouse crowd. At the first opportune moment, she slips out of the formal ceremony at the Waterloo Region Museum and heads for work.
The veteran bluesmen of The Homewreckers — Chris Latta and Colin White on guitars, Rick Hawksby, bass, and Domenic Di Nino, drums — already have the packed-out Boathouse celebrating Mel Brown when his widow enters, singing, striding to the stage with a wireless mic, sparkling in the black gown and Cheetah print jacket she wore to the induction ceremony.
Love is in the air.
At 59, Miss Angel cuts a striking figure, a commanding persona oozing the energy of someone half her age.
“Angel is a sexy powerhouse on stage,” says friend Cheryl Lescom, another beloved Kitchener blues singer. “She’s an entertainer, like Koko Taylor. It’s a show on stage, how they make that song their own, make it believable. She’s a storyteller,” says Lescom. “Miss Angel is a singing storyteller. She paints a vivid picture with her song.”
Lescom is among the performers who join Miss Angel on stage to celebrate Mel. Also joining is Silvia DiDonato, keyboard player and vocalist with Waterstreet Blues Band and member of the Kitchener Blues Festival board of directors. DiDonato is struck by Miss Angel’s generosity of spirit.
“Both she and Mel were always encouraging to young people, not just musicians, all young people,” DiDonato says, “and that’s something she continues to do. She gives everybody a chance to get up on stage with her, share in the limelight. She’s extremely generous that way.”
Case in point: the “veteran” guitarist to Miss Angel’s left on stage. Colin White still hasn’t hit his 15th birthday. He’s been playing guitar since he was 8, once had the thrill of jamming with Mel Brown at age 10 or 11, but has really hit his stride in the past year, since Miss Angel invited him to join The Homewreckers.
“It’s awesome having the experience playing with her,” says the teen guitar whiz. “Angel has given me lots of opportunity to play. And she’s given me advice about the music business. I learn from her, how she entertains the crowd, and she’s teaching me to stay humble.” Colin, Miss Angel says,“is going to be brilliant. I hope he’s always surrounded by good people, who can look after him and make sure he’s OK, ’cause this is a tough business.”
Sunday afternoon at The Boathouse winds down, but not before a host of other local musicians share time onstage celebrating Mel Brown and Miss Angel.
And trademark tunes, of course.
It wouldn’t be Sunday at The Boathouse without Miss Angel singing That’s The Way I Tumble, a song she wrote and Mel put to melody. Or Shake A Hand, which sees her stroll the audience greeting folks with Sunday-go-to-meetin’ warmth. Or the song closing out her set, dancing now with primal rhythm in red-hot mini-dress. It’s her signature: Hip Shake Boogie. And, yeahhhh, Miss Angel paints a vivid picture with her song.
• • •
Born Lillie Murry, Angel Brown grew up in Bigbee Valley, Mississippi, a farm kid, eldest in a family with six girls and seven boys. Papa worked construction. Family legend has it he also worked illegal whiskey, operating a still until the sheriff started sniffing around, at which point he decided a good career move would be right out of Mississippi. Lillie grew up helping look after two sisters and a brother, staying with her grandparents after her dad took the rest of his young family and skeedaddled to Ohio. In grand southern Baptist tradition, singing was part of life, on the farm and in church. Lillie’s great grandfather was a fire-and-brimstone preacher, her grandpa belonged to an a cappella gospel quartet. Young Lillie sang in the school choir and music was a big part of church, which was a big part of all life.
“Every Sunday,” she recalls. “Sunday school, church …. church, church, church … didn’t run out of church days or church time, there was always something going on at the church.”
At age 15, Lillie “got the notion mothering was for mothers, not teenagers,” and left the farm, heading to Cleveland where her parents had relocated. Attending high school there, she developed a love for blues, listening to her parents’ records. Between senior years, she moved to Denver and stayed with friends of family, finishing school there, then becoming a preschool instructor. The little ones began calling her Miss Angel, an affectionate name that has remained for life.
Summer 1975, Denver, brought a milestone. “That’s when I met Mister Mel Brown.” Angel was out clubbing with girlfriends. They got there early to get good seats and met the band arriving. “Mel stood there staring, looking and looking at me, and then he said, ‘Don’t I know you?’” Angel laughs. “Puleese! That’s the oldest line in the book. I didn’t believe him for a second.”
The girlfriends ordered drinks and were chatting when “all of a sudden, the band started, and Mel Brown started playing that guitar, and he was un-be-liev-a-ble!”
Over drinks later, Mel made the connection; he remembered spotting her at a Cleveland show when he toured there with Bobby Bland. Angel remembered the show, not the lanky guitar player.
“But he said he remembered me from then, so I must have tickled his fancy,” she chuckles, “years before he actually got to tickle his fancy.”
Needless to say, they hit it off that very night. The band was in town for a week, and she and Mel became inseparable. Angel had been thinking of moving back to Mississippi with her grandparents, but when Mel asked her to join him on the road, “I said sure, why not, I’ve never been to Texas, may as well see Texas.
“So we went to Texas, and then after Texas, there was just cities, states, towns, everywhere. In the city, in the country, in the bush, everywhere, they played everywhere. And when Mel wasn’t playing with Bobby Bland, he was playing with other bands. He was always going at it all the time, ‘cause that’s what he liked, playing his music, and that’s what made him happy more than anything, just playing his music.”
After the Texas tour, they settled in Memphis, living and working there and then in Nashville before moving to Los Angeles in the late 1970s.
Being Bobby Bland’s guitar player was Mel’s priority, but as soon as Bobby finished a tour, Angel says, “everybody in the world knew Mel and everybody in the world called Mel to come … and he would go. I drew the line at flying, I didn’t like airplanes, so he did most of that by himself.”
Miss Angel kept busy working with preschool children wherever she called home. She never did have kids of her own, but has always loved children.
“Yeahhhhh,” she says with that wonderful 10-letter drawl. “Somebody else’s.” The grin is broad, the chuckle hearty.
California was home base for about four years … “until I experienced earthquakes. Shaky ground. I didn’t like that. My God, it was horrible. We were flying across the room, plants jumping, and I thought the house was going to fall over.”
As soon as the earth stood still, I said to Mel, “I don’t know what you’re going to do, but I’m going back to Memphis.” Mel agreed, they packed the car and headed east. “For weeks after that it seemed like the concrete was crumbling beneath my feet,” she recalls.
In the early ’80s, the couple settled in Austin, state capitol of Texas. Mel led the house band at Antone’s, a mecca for blues players and fans. Open every night of the week, “they would have anybody who’s anybody playing there,” Angel recalls. “Albert Collins, Muddy Waters, Buddy Guy … all those people played Antone’s.”
Then in 1988, after living together 13 years, the couple married in a small ceremony at the home of a friend. A justice of the peace presided and club owner Clifford Antone gave away the bride. “My father had already passed away, so Antone did that part.” The wedding came off without a hitch … almost.
“Everybody was talking about how I was holding up so well, and I’m going, ‘this is nothing, what’s to be nervous about, right,’ so I’m just going on doing my thing, ‘humbug, what are you talking about.’ Then they started playing the wedding song. And it was like somebody hit the brakes.
“I said I’m not going down there. Sorry. Just go down and tell them they can all leave. I’m not going down.” Eventually, Antone comes up the steps. All ‘oh baby you look so pretty and you’ve waited for this, and I’m here for you and we’re going to do this … and you know Mel loves you.’
“I said, Not doing this … I’m not doing it, I am not doing this.” Wedding guests were looking upstairs wondering what was going on. “It was me having a change of heart … but Clifford talked me into it. And he held his hand out for me, and it was pretty well over then.”
The groom was handsome in white tux, the bride glowing in a vintage white gown, floor length with flowing train. It was a gorgeous classic, Angel recalls, loaned for the occasion at the insistence of its owner. Her friend had taken care of something old and something borrowed. Angel’s shoes were new, her garter blue.
The reception was held at Antone’s, the club full of friends and performers partying all night.
Then back to business, Mel making music with his Gibson Super 400 and Miss Angel looking after preschoolers. It had never dawned on her to perform. Until the time Mel asked her if she’d like to do a couple songs with Antone’s house band.
“I said sure, and I did it, and at the end of the night he gave me fifty bucks. I said ‘Damn! I’m in the wrong business.’ Two songs and he gave me fifty bucks. That was it for me.
“How long did it take to make fifty at the day care? They paid minimum wage, not much more. I wasn’t doing it for the money in the first place, I was doing it because I love kids, that’s why I was doing it. But when he gave me that fifty dollars for singing two songs, I was sold.”
In 1989, Kitchener residents Glenn Smith and Scott Urquhart paid a visit to Antone’s, and invited Mel to come play their nightclub, Pop The Gator. The ace guitarist and Hammond B3 player came up for a weekend gig, and stayed for the rest of his life. Mel Brown adopted Kitchener, and Kitchener adopted Mel Brown.
“He really liked this place, better than any place. For some reason, he liked Kitchener,” Angel says, noting the people he met and worked with were important to him and he valued the friendships, right to his death two years ago. “When he was in the hospital,” Angel recalls, “he was standing looking over the city and he looked back at me and said ‘you know, I never want to leave this place.’ So that’s why he’s still here.”
Mel is buried in Memory Gardens, just outside Breslau. The loss was unbearable. “People tell you time makes it better, but I don’t believe that’s necessarily so … a loss is still a loss and he’ll never be back, so it’ll always be a loss,” she says. But Angel forced herself to cope.
“That was really hard. And I’m sitting there alone, looking around, and I said ‘this is your life, you’ve got two choices: you can get busy living it or you can get busy dying. Watcha gonna do?’
“And I said out loud ‘I want to live’.”
Which meant getting back up in front of people and singing. Sometimes it was a struggle. With Mel’s death came the end of an era for that particular combo of band members, so Angel found herself rebuilding The Homewreckers.
“Angel has overcome a lot,” DiDonato observes. “Having to be alone after Mel’s passing … that was huge. They were very, very close and she had done everything in tandem with Mel Brown. Then having to go out on her own, she showed so much courage, picking up that mantle to try to do him honour.”
Angel had to take leadership like she’d never had to do before, adds DiDonato. “And that’s something women our generation are often faced with later in life. Young girls might start off that way now in their 20s, but Angel had to become a leader in her own right after being side by side with Mel all these years.
“Watching that happen? A lot of admiration, I would say.”
Apart from arranging gigs for her band and lining up guest performers, Angel has been in the studio, working on a new CD. “I’ve got a pretty full plate,” she says, “and then of course there’s always Mel Brown. I told his niece your uncle was a lot of work when he was here and now that he’s gone, guess what, he’s still a lot of work.”
Prior to Mel being inducted to the Region’s Hall of Fame, Angel found herself “digging up and organizing newspaper clippings and awards and photos and, you know, stuff, just stuff, Mel Brown stuff …
“I have to stop doing whatever I’m doing for me and do that for him, which I don’t mind, ’cause I love Mel Brown, that’s true, then and now, and I suppose I always will. We were a good team.”
She repeats the point, with emphasis. “We were a goood team. And he was everything to me. So when he died I wouldn’t have cared if I had died too.” The thought of looking for a new relationship did cross her mind, but that “didn’t seem to be happening,” so she focused on music, started writing words to songs and doing new songs and putting a new band together.
Finally “when I forgot about it, put it out of my mind, then I found a boyfriend … and that’s good,” she grins, “still is good.” The new man in her life, Dave Lyon, works in property maintenance, not the music business, and that too is good, says Angel. Good to feel new love, but her love for Mel will never go away.
“We did everything together,” Angel says. “Working, writing songs, I’d bounce my ideas off him, he’d bounce his ideas off me. So we were a team, no two ways about it. And then we took care of each other. I took care of him, he took care of me.
“He was my friend, my brother, my father, my lover, my husband. He was my everything. I can’t say it any better than that, because that was true.”
Angel admits she’s feeling a little bit rock and roll lately.
“I’ll be doing something musically. No matter what I’m doing it will have to do with music … ‘cause I got the music in me, thanks to Mel Brown. He insisted upon it. Wasn’t my idea. It was his idea. So evidently he seen something in me that he thought was worth polishing and shining up, getting me to sing.”
Angel pauses a moment, reflects. Then comes that 10-letter drawl. “Yeahhhhhhh,” she says.
“He seen something there. I’m grateful to him for that as well.”
Original link here.