They send out waves of joy that jolt an audience right out of the glooms and start it stamping floors and pounding fists on chairs. They have no need of costumes or choreography. Soloists leap forward as if by pure impulse. The rest let themselves be caught up by the sound they create, shouting when they like, dancing when the excitement grabs them, hands flying, arms waving to exhort each other.
Their name is the Voices of East Harlem, and they sing a peculiar mixture of blues, gospel and pop music. In the blase world...
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