In Harlem's Church of the Master this week, a preacher named Oscar Brown Jr. delivered a sermon in songan elegy for castaways between a front-porch Heaven and a sidewalk Hell. It was his debut in the pulpitbut the message was scarcely new to him. He had delivered it just the night before, downtown at Manhattan's smoky Blue Angel club. Mixing the groovy with the grave in songs that filled his life during a dozen mute years. Oscar Brown had at last found his voice. Matched with Brown's stylish skill as a performer, it promises...
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