Some nights, you don't feel cynical. Just old.

Wilson Pickett died on Thursday, January 19 from a heart attack, in a hospital in Reston, Virginia. He was 64.

Several news stories announced that piece of trivia today. And those twenty words may be the only thing that most people bring away from the report. But there was a time in America when "soul music" didn't mean recycled R&B, and didn't mean easy-listening pap sold on late-night television. A part of America has died this week, and too many people don't know to mourn for it.

His mother was abusive. One of eleven children, in 1955 he finally left Prattville, Alabama to live with his father in Detroit.

He grew up singing in gospel choirs, and even toured with Sam Cooke as part of a gospel music group. To support his family, he began singing more secular music, and, following a musical tradition slightly different from the blues, he helped to create "soul music" as a force of its own.

He joined a group called the Falcons in 1959. They climbed to #6 on the R&B chart in 1962, with Wilson singing lead on "I Found a Love." But his greatest success was from solo hits, starting with "It's Too Late," But of his hits, the two songs synonymous with his name, were "In the Midnight Hour" and "Mustang Sally."

Mustang Sally, think you better slow your mustang down.
Mustang Sally, think you better slow your Mustang down.
You been running all over the town now.
Ooh! I guess I'll have to put your flat feet on the ground.

All you want to do is ride around, Sally,
(Ride, Sally, ride)
One of these early mornings,
Oh, you gonna be wiping your weeping eyes.

I bought you a brand new Mustang,
'Bout nineteen sixty five.
Now you come around signifying a woman,
You don't wanna let me ride.
Mustang Sally, think you better slow your Mustang down.
You been running all over the town now.
Oh! I guess I'll have to put your flat feet on the ground.

All you want to do is ride around Sally, ride, Sally, ride...

His slightly raspy voice and the feeling he could put into a song gave a sensuous edge to his music that other, smoother soul singers couldn't match. It also earned him a title from a public slowly climbing out of the sexually-repressed Fifties: "the Wicked Wilson Pickett."

But times changed, and with his biggest hits behind him, Wilson didn't react well to fading into obscurity. He was arrested several times in the Nineties, for assault, carrying a loaded weapon, and drunken driving. And at the start of 2006, his heart gave out.

His songs were recorded by everyone from the Rolling Stones and Hootie and the Blowfish, to Echo and the Bunnymen and Ani DiFranco. "Mustang Sally" alone was recorded by, among others, Los Lobos, blues contemporary Buddy Guy, and even, in her original demo CD, by pop-tart Jojo (who just turned 15 a month ago). In 1991, the Oscar-nominated movie "The Commitments" was essentially built around a framework of his music, although he himself never appeared in it.

I'm gonna wait 'till the midnight hour;
That's when my love comes tumbling down.
I'm gonna wait 'til the midnight hour,
When there's no one else around.
I'm gonna take you, girl, and hold you,
Do all things I told you,
In the midnight hour.
Yes I am, whoa, yes I am

I’m gonna wait 'til the stars come out,
See them twinkle in your eyes.
I'm gonna wait 'til the midnight hour,
That's when my love begins to shine.
You're the only girl I know,
Really love you so,
In the midnight hour.

Most of his hits came before I was old enough to remember. But one of the earliest memories I have of my wife involves his music.

We had a good-sized group of friends who used to get together every weekend. And much of the time, we would end up moving the furniture out of the way, playing the music much too loud, and dancing. Everyone brought a few albums, but invariably, one compilation that one of us had put together would get played. And among several other hits of the Sixties and Seventies, there was "Mustang Sally."

I had spent the first two decades of my life not dancing - I couldn't dance. I was too cool. I was too scared. I just didn't.

But Wilson Pickett, in a recording from decades earlier, would belt out the often-covered lyrics, and Annette, long before we started dating, would drag me out on the dance floor.

It took another year or two before we got married, but we're still together eighteen years later. And now the Wicked Wilson Pickett is dead, and it's been a long time since I danced with my wife.

Perhaps it's time to start again.

All you want to do is ride around, Sally,
(Ride, Sally, ride)
One of these early mornings,
Oh, you gonna be wiping your weeping eyes.