The King of Go-Go. Which is this. Just fucking wonderful.
The news of his death brings back memories of a night I spent in Atlanta in 1985 with my girlfriend when we were touring the US on the Greyhounds. After detouring just a little out of the city centre (never a sensible thing to do in the States), we passed by a nightclub and decided to go in. It was pretty empty and we were the only white people there. Much later back in England, when go-go starting getting some press, I realised it was a go-go joint. By the time we decided to leave two hours later it was packed to the rafters and funking off its hinges. We were still the only white people there.
When we got back to the Greyhound station we bumped into a couple of cops who we'd met earlier. "Where you end up, guys?" We'd asked them about what nightclubs to go to. "The Phoenix." They looked at each other and cracked up, shaking their heads. They gave us a police escort, one either side of us, into and through the station to where our bus was.