by Marlon West (FB: marlon.west1 Threads: @stlmarlonwest IG: stlmarlonwest Spotify: marlonwest)
Being your groove chauffeur at GBN is the closest I’ll ever come to having a blog or column. In the years I’ve pecked write-ups for these Music Monday playlists, I have often discovered new tracks and artists in an attempt to be comprehensive in my collections.
I have more than once received wonderful additions and suggestions to my playlists. I’ve taken them all, too. I have also advocated for the broader appreciation of various artists here.
This playlist tribute to the late Frankie Beverly certainly falls in the latter category; though I know I’m preaching to the proverbial choir here on Good Black News.
With the announcement of his passing I was struck by how little I knew about that talented artist. I had never seen or read an interview with Frankie Beverly. Never seen a tabloid headline about his drug use, trashing hotels, affairs, or his violent temper. I’d never seen him glad-handing on a late-night or daytime talk show.
Frankie Beverly, in my experience, spoke through his music only. For all I knew, Frankie Beverly could have been a benevolent celestial being who came to Earth to commune with a people in need of his message of joy, passion, and hope. He could have been an ebony immortal, like those of Tananarive Due’s books, who shared his insight of the human heart and soul gained through the centuries he had walked the earth.
That is how warm and enigmatic our dear brotha, Frankie Beverly, was to me. The native of Philadelphia and California transplant never gained the crossover success of Marvin Gaye, Al Green or Maurice White. Though as Essence magazine declared back in 2017: “There isn’t a cookout, not a wedding or family reunion in Black America where you won’t hear” him and Maze.
That has been true for nearly 50 years. It was Marvin Gaye that suggested to Beverly that he change the name of his band from Raw Soul to Maze. He helped get them signed too, which led to nine albums that all were certified gold.
Here is what I’ll offer as a quintessential collection of Maze Featuring Frankie Beverly. Please enjoy. Dig what New York Times writer, Ben Ratliff, had to say about the voice of Beverly:
“His voice was half-scorched, and some of the usual traces of Donny Hathaway and Sam Cooke weren’t coming through. But he managed by keeping it in the middle register and by adding small vocal gestures to the rhythm cycles — percussive uh-uhs and dibba-dibbas, gospel grunts.”
Frankie Beverly spent a lifetime singing about joy and desire. Though he dealt in reality, as well as the perils of hurting those around him. See you all next month.
And as always, stay safe, sane, and kind.
Editor’s Note: Marlon’s piece on the late, great Frankie Beverly was lovingly crafted by him days ago and scheduled to post today. Last night’s untimely passing of musical legend Tito Jackson and the legacy he left behind will be addressed by GBN in the very near future.
All together, the extremely rough journey took 27 hours, but Brown succeeded and was celebrated for his inventiveness.
The taping ended on December 14, 2012 while the Sandy Hook massacre played on television as Stokes passed away from lung disease at the age of 83. In between, she recorded on 70,000 VHS tapes, capturing revolutions, lies, wars, triumphs, catastrophes, bloopers, talk shows, and commercials that tell us who we were, and show how television shaped the world of today. 
