![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
|
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
|
Hoofin' For Horse Man, when it comes to tap dancin', the cats on the sidewalk outside Minton's put Ginger and Fred to bed. Baby Laurence and Ground Hog, L.D., Fred and Sledge, The Step Brothers, Buddy Briggs no one can touch them fine hoofers they're bad motherfuckers with a bad horse to shoe! Most of the hoofers in Harlem be dancin' for drugs, not accolades or acclaim, baby. They were black and couldn't hope to get no break dancing that glitzy Hollywood shit. But the honky cats sho nuff stole their stuff and pranced apace just like they did with the music. But what music they made! Man! Their dealers'd watch 'em dancin' for change, give 'em free horse, take their side of black hide, for a fine performance. There'd be a crowd all around and Baby Laurence and Ground Hog would really get down! There's a lot of grovellin' in those steps, baby, a lot of grovellin'. But they were like drummers drummin' up pride and I loved to listen and watch. I learned a lot from those cats especially after I got my jones, heard the long, low cry, the rattle of the bones. |