ANIMALS' THIRD INVASION: ERIC BURDON, CHARMER?
As we roll into uptown Cincinnati on our way to the Animals show at Music Hall, it hits me up side of the head that this 1983 reunion of the original group, both to record and to tour, is much more of a second-chance gift from the karmic types above than I ever expected (or maybe even deserved).
ANIMALS' THIRD INVASION: ERIC BURDON, CHARMER?
by
Richard Riegel
As we roll into uptown Cincinnati on our way to the Animals show at Music Hall, it hits me up side of the head that this 1983 reunion of the original group, both to record and to tour, is much more of a secondchance gift from the karmic types above than
I ever expected (or maybe even deserved). Add an exclamation point to that, as the oldies show on the car radio suddenly serves up the Animals’ “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood,” and that bouncy R&B plea zaps essence-of-early-’65 sensations through my veins.
It’s a sweltering August evening, and as we turn down Race St. (!), I see that the sidewalks and steps of the tenements are filled with black teenagers and kids, yelling, riding bikes, blasting their radios, all acting out a Veritable 1964-Eric Burdon romantic panorama fantasy of Black America, of a fabulous land where all those “cool” blacks are so astutely “hip” to Bo Diddley and Ray Charles. Yeh, man, Animalisms upon Animalisms!