“Do you actually listen to her?” I still remember when I heard that question for the first time. Of course I do. I love Yma Sumac. It’ll started down one afternoon at the Rancho de la Luna in Joshua Tree about 20 years ago. It’s getting close to the Yma Hour. Cocktails, Yma, and dancing and don’t forget to play her loud. I had the good fortune to see her live a few years later. At that stage in Yma Sumac’s career it was more happening than a concert. At first she was a bit timid until she remembered she was in San Francisco. Yma came to life as the audience screamed at cheered for her like the megastar she truly was.
So yes. I listen to Yma Sumac. At times, there is nothing better than a bit of Yma. Like those empty roads between Twentynine Palms and Death Valley. Racing along, windows down, sun roof open, hot desert air blasting into the car and the coyotes turning their heads up to listen to that magical voice.
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