Riley Inge, Sibel Thrasher, Kentish Steele, William Taylor, Doug Louie – names of local musical talent peppered over the years by a devoted friend. No groupie, this gal – she has lugged many a band gear and member to gigs in her diminutive ride, always rocking it in her inimitable style. Are you with the band? Yes, I am. I am with the band.
October 1966: Frank Hook and Danny Baceda at Oil Can Harry’s with musicians. Photograph by: Ralph Bower, PNG
Perhaps the best known of the bunch, Riley Inge has cropped up in unexpected places. Fifteen years ago, he sang My Girl at a store I worked at. As one of the original members of The Temptations, that’s how he liked to introduce himself. Keep the light on, he would say, keep the light on.
This past Christmas, on a clear night, I decided to walk home after several hot toddies at The Sylvia. I took the seawall route, and it was very dark. To my right, a lit cigarette moved steadily in a horizontal line. It was a man smoking in his wheelchair. He began to recite a poem, something about not giving up. Do you know who wrote that? – he told me who, then introduced himself. Riley Inge, he said, and continued to talk, mostly about the accident, how he was told a few years ago he wouldn’t walk again. He said he was performing in the next few weeks and where….but holiday season got in the way.
Four months later, my friend called, breathless with an invitation. There was to be an homage to Oil Can Harry’s, an R&B club in the ’60s and ’70s on Thurlow Street.
Google brought up this article written by my old boss when the club closed in ’77 – oh, to jump in a time machine and soak in some of that: a culmination of smoky rooms, go-go boots, Ike & Tina stopping by. It was….the place to be. Worlds colliding, stars were aligned. There was nothing more to say. It was time to get down.
1966: Dancers at Oil Can Harry’s Down Under Club. Photograph by Dan Scott, PNG
At the Maritime Harbour Centre, a white limo pulled up and spilled forth a three-piece suited, fedorad, sequined cohort. Kentish Steele and the Shantelles, the main act and producer of the event, among the veteran William Taylor and Sibel Thrasher, made room on stage for a dazzling young D’arcy Zi Han, who belted her repertoire like Queen Bey, minus contrivance and a lotta soul. It was a treasure trove of glimpses to a different time and kick-ass tunes, worthy of the best moves one can deliver. The audience, surprisingly, was well represented by alum and current devotees of Motown.
Almost midnight and nearly four hours of straight music, the stage went silent. Nearly ten minutes up a ten-second flight of stairs to the stage, canes shuddering on either side, Riley Inge hoisted himself onto a barstool to croon to the crowd gathered before him. Impeccable in a white suit, sweat trickling down his cheeks, he sang song after song, shaking with exertion, and smiling.
Notable eavesdrop (in the ladies room, where else?): I was a 17 year old go-go dancer at Oil Can Harry’s, you? Oh, I was a 16 year old go-go dancer. Let me tell you, these ladies still look mighty-fine.
1966: Dancers and GoGo girls at Oil Can Harry’s Down Under Club. Photograph by: Dan Scott, PNG
the top line 