Yesterday was a very long day. After updating my website, I had to watch the new Bayard Rustin documentary and write a review of it for The Philadelphia Gay News (PGN) and write my monthly column for PlanetOut.com.

Both stories were already behind deadline when I woke up, but with my PGN editor anxiously awaiting the article I had promised the day before, I felt intense pressure to do that story first.

I had watched part of the Rustin film on videotape in my hotel room in Washington last week, but I was unable to finish it before I had to interview the film makers last Thursday and Friday. Watching it again from start to finish left me with chills and tears early in the morning and inspired me to do the work I had to finish that day. If Bayard Rustin could organize a march of 250,000 people in Washington, then surely I could write a few articles in a single day.

I finished the Rustin piece in the early afternoon and then took a break before plunging into my PlanetOut column about AIDS. It was an abrupt transition, but I soon caught my stride and found myself pecking away at the keyboard and attempting to summarize my thoughts into some semblance of organization.

At 4 in the afternoon I was finally ready to call the two key figures in the PlanetOut article, almost a week after I had warned them that I needed to interview them. I tracked down both of them and got them to speak to me before my deadline.

Late in the day, I finally finished the AIDS article and emailed it off to my editor at PlanetOut. I looked at my watch. I was late for a previously scheduled group outing at the Village Underground. Late or not, I needed a break, so I dressed as quickly as I could and raced downtown to meet my friends.

Although the burden of my deadlines had been lifted, I still felt I had forgotten something. I remembered it as I sat down at the table in front of the stage. I had forgotten to relax.

Immediately the place brought back memories. It was the same bar where I had started to drink fifteen months earlier.

I did not drink during most of my life. I never drank in high school and avoided alcohol in college, even as a member of a fraternity. I sipped my first drink, a rum and Coke, in Granada, Spain during a fall 1985 foreign study program. From then on, I drank moderately until 1994, when I quit completely.

It took seven years before I drank again. On a date at the Village Underground to see Chuck Brown and the Soul Searchers, a friend encouraged me to try a drink. I asked him to recommend a pleasant tasting drink that was not too strong and he suggested a Midori Sour. I liked it. For old time's sake, I ordered the same drink last night.

I wasn't sure what to expect from Somi. I'm always wary of artist's with only one name, but Somi quickly put my fears to rest. Introduced on stage, she gracefully entered the nightclub from the back of the room with the poise and humility of someone very comfortable with herself.

Wearing a full length black gown with lavender bodice, Somi struck an elegant pose on stage. In my head, I struggled to define her look and sound, finally settling on a description of her as a cross between Cassandra Wilson and India.Arie, but with a higher voice.

Somi sang songs from her new CD, Eternal Motive, which deals mostly with love. Many of the songs described the feeling of heartbreak, underscored dramatically by Somi's lazy eyes rolling into the back of her head as she sang.

With a 6-man band (keyboards, sax, guitar, drums, bass, percussion) and two backup singers, Somi came prepared to entertain, but the music sometimes drowned out her powerful voice. Still, her voice was strong, rich and crystal clear, a feat that lesser artists would never have pulled off behind such a strong band.

Listening to the band, I kept thinking of my mom, who loves jazz music, and wishing she could have been there to enjoy the moment.

I particularly liked the songs "Smile Again," "Girl Child" and "Ebb and Flow." I also liked Somi's version of "My Favorite Things." I was not particularly impressed by the song "Love Indigo" but I had a change of heart when I listened to it on the CD. The CD is quite impressive itself and provides a better forum to highlight her control of her instrument, especially in the song "Feelings."

I don't like the photographs on the cover of her CD and on the album release party advertisement because I don't think they capture the beauty of her piercing eyes, chocolate skin and Medusa locks. But I am glad that she has a CD.

Blessed with a beautiful voice and mind, Somi also wrote the lyrics for her songs. In the notes, she thanks her friends and supporters for their inspiration. "And to all those who have taught me lessons of love, life, and the music business . . . .I thank you. This is my eternal motive."

© Copyright 2002 by Keith Boykin.