Freda Payne’s original release of Holland-Dozier-Holland’s “Band of Gold” is one of the most overplayed tracks ever to assault the northern soul circuit, but I’ve always liked it anyway. This Marcia Griffiths reggae treatment: Even better.
Holland’s lyrics are subtle to the point of perplexity—at first. “But that night on our honeymoon, we slept in separate rooms.” Wait, really? Why?! But later it becomes clear. “...hoping soon, that you’d come back through that door, and love me, like you tried before.” Tried.
Could make a great Viagra ad. I picture mature but attractive and fit professional white couple, first under sheets, distressed looks on their faces. Then the woman sits in a dark dining room, a single tear stumbling down her cheek, and he appears in the doorway with a wry smile. Then we see her hand on his, pulling him through the doorway as that funky obligato plays, and Marcia (or Freda) moans, ‘Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh...(killer drum fill)... Don’t you know that I wait...” Check it at 1:59. Gold.
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