I remember the first Ashford & Simpson song I ever heard.

My mother’s best friend, Valerie, had discovered a new Christian singer named Kathy Troccoli. Her debut album, Stubborn Love, took our world by storm. She had a ‘different’ kind of voice. A husky alto. The three of us fell in love with her album. It opened with “You’re All I Need To Get By”. My mother and Valerie, of course, remembered this song by Marvin Gaye and Tami Terrell. Kathy was my introduction, however.

Kathy’s voice remains one of my favorite vocalists, but I must say, that Ashford & Simpson’s compositions seem to be bring out the best in whoever is singing them (provided that they have a core base of talent that they are working from). Maybe it’s the brilliant combination of lyric and melody that they bring together. Maybe it’s the fusion of gospel and pop…or more basically put: the merging of the sacred and the secular.

As my childhood and teenage years progressed, I found out exactly who this Ashford & Simpson were. These two whose named I read on the Reunion Records label as the co-writers of “You’re All I Need To Get By” on Kathy’s album.

I would hear the song again just a few years later on Aretha’s “30 Greatest Hits” compilation. Then I happened upon Chaka’s “I’m Every Woman” and discovered that they wrote it. Whitney would cover it again during my high school years.

As I immersed myself in soul music in my teens, I discovered their identity as artists in their own right. My godfather introduced me to “Is It Still Good to You”. But, it was the two Cheryl Lynn recorded & Luther-produced A&S compositions, “Believe In Me” & “If This World Were Mine” that connected me to them forever.

What lyricism. What poetry. What spirit. What truth.

Then, one day on a lunch break at Vanderbilt University, I ventured into CD Warehouse and got The Very Best of Ashford & Simpson, a collection that focused on their own work as recording artists, not just their career as songwriters for other people. When the CD hit track #2, “(I’d Know You) Anywhere”, I knew that I had found musical soulmates.

And after that day, I got their entire discography. I studied them. I delved into their words. I googled them and discovered that Nick was the primary lyricist and Val was the music. That fascinated me even more.

Everything about them embodied what love is…or at least what we imagine it to be. And they had to be living it…because…you just can’t imagine or make up the things that they wrote.

I lived with my godsister in the Bay Area back in 2009 for awhile and she surprised me with tickets to see Ashford & Simpson along with Teena Marie (as well as Charlie Wilson, AWB and Alexander O’Neill) at the Stoned Soul Picnic.

I was appauled that they were opening the show…and that they had to endure the noise of late comers and people settling in.

But they were pros.

In that 45 minute or so set, I got to see 40 years of musical history right before my eyes. They did their solo hits (“It Seems To Hang On”, “Is It Still Good To Ya”). They did the songs they wrote for others (“Let’s Go Get Stoned”, “The Boss”). It was magical.

The love between them was magnetic.

When Valerie took the lead on “I’m Every Woman” I knew several things. First, I was in the presence of a god and a goddess. They were majestic. Secondly, I never wanted to hear Chaka Khan sing it again. Did Chaka sing the song? Of course she did. But Valerie WAS the song. And that’s all I had to say about it.

So I got the news, along with the rest of the world, that Nick passed away yesterday. I texted my mama and told her I was so sick of people dying. In the past year, almost every musical artist that has been foundational in my development has died. I told her that it was like watching my world die before my eyes.

I went crazy posting my favorite A&S songs on Facebook.

When I got up this morning, I re-watched one that I posted last night, “Gimme Something Real”, the title song from their debut album in 1974. The lyric struck me as different. More personal. How I feel.

It is our universal quest. The abandonment of all that feels false to us. The desire to be fully seen. Embraced. Loved.

We look for it in so many others…when it is, in actuality, a gift that we can give ourselves.

I played the song three times before getting dressed for work. I got in the car and played it again. I drove up Rt 18, crying all the way. The song ended and I pressed rewind and played it again. And again.

I cried for Nick. I cried for me. I cried for all of us that just want to live a life without pretense and falsities. It’s been the prayer of my entire life. Nick’s words helped me find my own. He was one of the prophets that lived between the worlds. He understood the fine line between spirituality and sensuality. He understood the importance of the feminine. That’s why he could write a lyric like “I’m Every Woman” with such exquisite beauty and complete regality. I knew he knew ‘the secrets’ when I saw them in concert. He was a magick man. A seer. One of the ‘otherworld’ voices that I’ve been drawn to my entire life.

I’ve found an odd clarity in the past 24 hours. An understanding of what my need for finding something real (and being real) means for me. What elements/components I must have in place for my world to truly feel like my world. I’ll write more about that when I’m more clear on it…but as this series indicates…I live in this music….I couldn’t live without it.