Damon Harris

Damon Harris is back. . . and if the name sounds familiar, here's why. In 1971, he embarked upon a career that brought him nine gold records, three Grammy Awards and the acclaim of audi- ences around the world; and that's not even the best part. He became what all good American boys dream of. No not president; some- thing bigger. A Temptation. Maybe they weren't immor- tals, but it sure felt like it.

Maybe not gods, but if you were a child of the 1960's, it was hard to tell the difference through the stars in your eyes and the cheering in your throat. They were the Temptations and it was more than enough. So tall, they might be giants. So sharp, you could cut yourself on their creased pants. So cool, a stray glance could make you shiver. Temptations, David, with that angular frame and that rasp of ungodly pain in his voice.

Melvin, with those round eyes and that bass that went down for miles. And Eddie, pretty enough to be a girl, he was, voice floating above the lyric like a balloon floating above the street on the clear- est day of the summer. The way they did the things they did was. . . glorious. And out in the audience, this kid named Damon was drinking it in like a de- sert traveler would drink water, watching and listening with every pore, scared to blink for fear of what he'd miss. "I was spell- bound," he says now. "The main thing that was on my mind was. . .how do you become that? How did they be- come what they were? The just seemed so much larger than life". And he was, after all, just a kid who felt he would "never, be able to surpass their image and what they were. But, oh, just to be like that". . .

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