Sexy Mumbles

Many laypeople believe that R+B (Rhythm plus Blues) music is made by the simple addition of Blues 

to Rhythm. But connoisseurs of the genre know that Rhythm and Blues are only 2/3 of the necessary 

ingredients of a traditional R+B song. The unaccounted for ingredient is Sexy Mumbles. 

Sexy Mumbles are what the R+B artist or group of R+B artists engage in at the beginning of a R+B song, 

pre-harmony, just before the beat "drops." Standard topics for Sexy Mumbles include:

1. Asking the DJ to please start playing ("drop") the beat as soon as possible

2. Reminding us that this is how we (the R+B artist[s]) do

3. Reminding us of the name of the R+B artist(s) who will sing the song you are about to hear

4. A Beautiful Lady (the Subject of the R+B song about to be sung, generally)

Renowned Rhythm Plus Blues Artist Bobby Valentino is like the Cadillac of Sexy Mumbles 

(you only need to listen to like the first 20 seconds of each of these, if you are too busy to HEAR ART):

And of course a short but stellar example of Sexy Mumbles from R+B titans Boyz II Men:

Wonderful.

Now. As an innovator, a pioneer, an asker of difficult questions, and a fervent believer in the 

vitalness of Sexy Mumbles as an art form, The Steelworkers Promise is sitting here wondering 

why not write a whole Rhythm Plus Blues song comprised entirely of Sexy Mumbles? I mean if 

you love chocolate ice cream, you don't buy Neapolitan ice cream, you buy a whole thing of 

chocolate. (That is called a "pitch-perfect metaphor.") 

The Steelworkers Promise believes that this sort of questioning of the fundamental construction 

of Rhythm Plus Blues music is precisely what our troubled world needs right now. 

Why? 

BECAUSE THAT'S HOW PROGRESS GETS DID. 

So buckle your Brain Belt, reader, so you don't get whiplash from this PARADIGM SHIFT.

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PRESENTING: The World's First All-Sexy-Mumbles R+B Song

TITLE: (Oh my God girl) You're so Beautiful

soft violin/piano intro

LYRICS (mumbled sexily):

Oh my God, girl.

You're so beautiful. 

Standing there, 

shimmering in the noonday sun. 

Like a diamond-studded art work

by an ancient art master.

A statuette

representing the faint hope of real human connection and love

in this cold digital age.

And boners.

That's probably the most important thing you represent. 

My boner.

Oh my God girl. 

I can't believe my incredible luck.

Of all the places in the world

that a lovely lady could choose to stand

you picked this one,

this lonely bus stop outside the Big-Lots.

What do you have in those shopping bags, girl?

Is it my heart?

Oh my God girl.

Look at that tasty singlet you got on.

You know some people say a large and floppy bosom

like the one you got girl

is an accurate indicator 

of future success in life.

Girl I am one of those people who say that.

I believe in you. 

Oh my God girl.

Are you really getting on the same bus as me?

How in Heavens have I never seen you on my bus before?

I ride this shit every day.

Are you new in town?

Are you stranger in this big city?

Did you come from a faraway place to pursue your dreams?

Or did your alternator go out or something,

so you have to ride the bus today

to get your errands did?

Either way, girl. 

Fate has descended upon us.

Like a fucking comet from space.

Destiny's comet crushed us girl, 

and left a smoking crater of serendipity.

Oh my god, girl.

Where you gonna sit?

You need to decide fast, because the bus is about to start rolling again.

Girl, come on.

Sit the fuck down. 

I need to know where you're sitting

so I can sit near but not next to you

in the optimum position 

to admire your beauty. 

Two rows back and on the opposite side.

Is the standard position for that sort of thing.

The bus has started moving.

THE BUS IS MOVING GIRL.

SIT THE FUCK DOWN GIRL.

Well God damn it.

I just slopped Gatorade G down the front of my shirt. 

I lost my balance for you, girl.

See how I sacrifice for our love?

Oh my god, girl.

What could you be thinking as you stare out that bus window?

What are your dreams, girl?

Could you be dreaming of me?

Is that even a possibility, 

considering that you and I have never formally met?

Is it even within the realm of reason, girl

that despite the fact that you are unaware of my presence on this planet,

with the exception of that lusty glance you threw at me

when I fell into the bus aisle a second ago,

is it possible that you are staring out that dusty bus window 

dreaming of me,

dreaming of making love to me?

I believe it is possible, girl. 

I believe in dreams. 

The beat "drops," and the song ends immediately.

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And we leave the world a better place than we found it.