AJ Dance Legacy

Lucky I’m Black

Osunlade Gets His Flowers

“Happy birthday to you.” A chorus sings across the expanse of fluorescent and exchange.  Thereafter, an elder directs those gathered to belt the livelier soul-stirring rendition of Stevie Wonder’s “Happy Birthday.”

“People always forget the lyrics to the second verse.” Everyone’s Favorite Photographer mentions over the growing serenade.”  The time reads 9:30 pm.  Wait!  The day party was advertised to conclude at 8 pm.  Oh well.  Here we are at 9:30.  Here we are.  (more…)

OVEOUS

So what does an OVEOUS playlist sound like?  The music that Osunlade plays.  Percolating percussions.  Meditative melodies.  Ancestreal chants.  A major difference being OVEOUS spits verses, live.  Holding in hand a microphone he raps, “Find your friends on the dance floor. Or make new friends on the dance floor.”  Osunlade and OVEOUS are arguably interchangeable.  The latter having been mentored by the Yoruba priest, is a member of the Yoruba Recordings family.  Debuted as OVEOUS MAXIMUS, he first released, “I Apologize” (The Remixes) over a decade earlier.  The Ezel Remix brings back fond memories when the music selector sings, “I’m so sorry. (3X) I apologize.”  That has you mouthing along in harmony.

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OSUNLADE

2300

Twenty-five dollars cash to park! GTFOH. Betta forget about street parking too. Onward the parking quest continues. When music spills over brick edges onto black asphalt. Where groups of melanin hourglasses wearing lemonade braids with sneakers tread. Along the historic of avenues – Auburn.

This is just another hot boy summer Saturday night in these streets. Or is it? As twenty minutes later, the parking conundrum is solved. However, the question remains. Next trip drive solo, again? Or pay $90 round-trip to be chauffeured in a rideshare? Things that make you go “Hmmm.”

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Lend me your ear. To be told of what makes legends. Organic rhythm meets ancestral royalty. Playing for the divinities.

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OSUNLADE

“I NEED ONE LINE. I’M NOT LETTING ANYONE INSIDE UNTIL I SEE ONE LINE FOLKS. Shouts the familiar doorman, who is serious business, his burly body blocking the door’s entrance.  “I NEED TO SEE BARCODES [sic] ON YOUR TICKET TO ENTER.” (more…)