Over at Oxford American, I wrote about the sad and singular Marvin Gaye and his 1976 concert film shot in Amsterdam. A profoundly unusual genius who accomplished an extraordinary amount during a lifetime freighted with trauma and fated to end in tragedy.
The singer who takes the stage appears oddly tentative. Lithe and lean and immaculately tailored in a wondrous green-and-white-striped jacket over an emerald leisure suit, he shuffles and croons, his voice soft and sonorous. He is, as always, breathtakingly handsome. But there is a strangeness too; something is vibrating on a weird frequency. In close-up, unmistakably, he looks worried.
Check it out!
Nats wrap-up and the official count of cheladas consumed tomorrow.