But another kind has to exist because the soul is, as any sinister Southern preacher will tell you, a troubled and wicked thing, full of sound and fury, led astray by demonic desires.
Or does 'soul' conjure experiences, personal or political? A luxurious agony, tells of haunted nights and miserable mornings, shadowed by grief, heartbreak and loss. Call and response: I say 'soul' and you think of what? A world where everything is smooth, all honey and gold, hushed lushness and midnight love? Is that your soul music: a sonorous, velvety voice expressing sexual ecstasy, unending pleasure, love-as-wonderful-addiction ('can't get enough of your love, babe').
