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Ain't Got No Home - Clarence "the Frogman" Henry

Just in case this was getting a bit predictable, time to go off piste.

Back in the old days when you could have the annual village dance and all the locals from 15 to 80 years old were getting down to it on the dance floor, the young ones going crazy over Satchmo while the old order gamely (and drunkenly) took on New Order, and the sounds in the village green marquee would continue along with the locally brewed village bitter till four o'clock in the morning, I'd be slapping the next piece of vinyl on the technics when a short, slim, bearded but handsome fellow would appear by the turntables, cock his head and say "I think it's time, don't you?"

And I'd know what he meant and I'd put this on:

I don't mind when people have their favourite tracks, as long as they are good ones, and this is one of the best. And he'd always be right, he'd get me when the dancers, 7 hours in and fused into one glorious mass of community togetherness, were willing to dance to anything of quality, regardless of age, familiarity or genre. This was before the days when the village became filled with retired bureaucrats and middle management second home owners who complain if any kind of fun or noise takes place a micro second after midnight, and who would never in a month of Saturday nights "get" a track like this. Which is what makes it so good. It's a two o'clock swamp stomper and it never failed.

And if you were wondering why Clarence earned the epithet "frogman", you should have figured it out by now.

So here's to you Paul Milton, let's hear it one more time, for the good old days.

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