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Brother Jimmy, said Joey the Lips. – I’m worried. – About Dean. – Wha’ abou’ Dean? – He told me he’s been listening to jazz. – What’s wrong with tha’? Jimmy wanted to know. – Everything, said Joey the Lips. – Jazz is the antithesis of soul. – I beg your fuckin’ pardon! – I’ll go along with Joey there, said Mickah. – See, said Joey the Lips. – Soul is the people’s music. Ordinary people making music for ordinary people. – Simple music. Any Brother can play it. The Motown sound, it’s simple. Thump-thump-thump-thump. – That’s straight time. Thump-thump-thump-thump. – See? Soul is democratic, Jimmy. Anyone with a bin lid can play it. – It’s the people’s music. – Yeh don’t need anny honours in your Inter to play soul, isn’t tha’ wha’ you’re gettin’ at, Joey? – That’s right, brother Michael. – Mickah. – Brother Mickah. That’s right. You don’t need a doctorate to be a doctor of soul. – Nice one. – An’ what’s wrong with jazz? Jimmy asked. – Intellectual music, said Joey the Lips. – It’s anti-people music. It’s abstract. – It’s cold an’ emotionless, amn’t I righ’? said Mickah. – You are. – It’s got no soul. It is sound for the sake of sound. It has no meaning. – It’s musical wanking, Brother. – Musical wankin’, said Mickah. – That’s good. – Here, yeh could play tha’ at the Christmas parties. – Instead o’ musical chairs.

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