On a typical weekday morning in Los Angeles, I sit through two rotations of red lights at a busy La Brea Avenue intersection. The cars in front of me barely nudge forward, yet I am not fidgety, fussy or frustrated. Like many of my fellow drivers, I’m headed to work after dropping my kid off at school, but the familiar sound bursting through my speakers lifts my spirits to a blue sky that I know exists beyond this thick, gray fog.
That sound belongs to the incomparable Frankie Beverly, America’s beloved “silky-silky” soul singer who died in September, leaving fans all over the world with achy hearts. The songs of Frankie Beverly & Maze (his band) are woven into the childhood soundtracks of not just my generation (Gen X), but Millennials and Gen Z, too. That’s how timeless the music is — an endless silk thread connecting disparate lives.
In the weeks since his passing, folks everywhere have been playing Frankie Beverly & Maze’s music, taking to social media to share their performances and reminiscing while dancing through the discography. A discography that reflects a philosophy of accepting and appreciating life’s joys and pains. Popular favorites include “Before I Let Go,” “Can’t Get Over You,” “We Are One,” “Happy Feelings,” “Joy and Pain” and “Golden Time of Day.”
The song that’s lifting me through this foggy, traffic-ridden morning is “I Wanna Thank You,” first released by Frankie Beverly when he was with The Butlers in 1986.
If you’ve never listened to Beverly before, start with this one. With the singer’s insistence on profusely thanking the object of his gratitude, it’s a perfect song for the holiday season. Even before he opens his mouth, you’ll know you’re in for a treat. The lead guitar teases its short, lilting, high-pitched licking over a groovy and funky bass line, seducing us into the more melodic rhythms that ultimately ease us into Beverly’s signature voice, raspy and rich with feeling.
As I hit replay again and again, an emotion I cannot quite name breaks through the joyful moment. What had felt like the sun in my car slips behind the memories of this year’s cloudier experiences. I know you can relate; no one seems to be perpetually basking in the sun’s rays these days. Listening to Beverly’s simple (yet profound) lyrics reminds us that this constant dance of joy and pain in our intimate lives and on the world stage is what makes genuine expressions of gratitude — whether we are on the giving or receiving end — so vital and, at times, so beautifully gutting.
I am thankful to be here to celebrate the end of yet another year. And I am grateful for each of this issue’s stories and the writers who crafted them, for my colleagues, family, friends and, always, for you — our community.
Cassandra Lane is Editor-in-Chief of L.A. Parent.
