Ever wondered what would be jamming in the background while an incoherent, tangerine jumpsuit-wearing Jimmy Brown screams prodigal verses of human truth at you? Or the unknown pitch MJ can reach when screaming from his palatial balcony at Prince, who's been hold- ing a seemingly never ending cocaine party on his marble basketball court next door?
There is an alternate dimension where the masters of funk and the purveyors of groove all reside. A street where the mood is positive, the road is made of glitter and Franky Knuckles can be found loitering with a tape recorder, reprocessing tunes for the nightly grind.
On Mansion Lane there are ups and downs and a sound for every flavour. Though it’s a place born of funk, it’s really all about the groove that makes you want to move.
