Rock ‘n’ roll’s primal scream can be traced back to James
Brown. It came from within this man. And at 73 years old it’s still in his
soul, in his throat, and in your face. He’s the Reverend Cleophus.
He’s The Godfather of Soul. Soul Brother No. 1. Mr. Dynamite. He’s the hardest
working man in show business. James Brown is as relentless and colorful and
controversial as his music.
It was Brown’s seminal take that ushered two revolutions in
American black music. His ragged gospel-based bellow coupled with an intense,
driving beat helped turn r&b into soul in the
late ’50s and early ’60s, and eventually soul into funk. Innumerable hip-hop
artists have sampled Brown as well, so come to think of it, that’s three
revolutions.
Brown’s numerous run-ins with the law — including weapons
charges and high-speed interstate car chases — prison time, and financial
woes have done little to tarnish the man’s luster. When you close your eyes and
envision Brown howling passionately, with his slick airtight band and slick
airtight ‘do and fancy footwork, a handgun waving over his head doesn’t seem
all that weird. Brown’s music ain’t all that
civilized. So why should he be?
Brown grew up dirt
poor in Macon, Georgia. As a teenager he got into
some trouble, and was eventually locked-up. Fresh off a four-year stint in the
joint for armed robbery, Brown joined The Gospel Strarlighters
in 1953. Brown’s gravely pipes and charisma soon took center stage. The group
switched its pitch to r&b and changed its name to
The Famous Flames. James Brown and the Famous Flames signed with the
King/Federal label (who barely beat Chess Records’ Leonard Chess to the punch)
and recorded “Please, Please, Please,” in 1956.
At that point Brown was one of the few black performers that
simply could not be duplicated or co-opted by white artists. The raw and savage
sensuality Brown sweat and bled came from a place most white artists never knew
existed, and where kids both black and white were dying to go to. Hail, hail
rock ‘n’ roll.
But he had no hits. He burned rubber touring the famed Chittlin Circuit non-stop but was merely covering heroes
like Little Richard, Roy Brown, and Ray Charles. His label was poised to give
him the hot potato treatment.
Until…
Brown’s first No. 1 hit, “Try Me,” went to the top of the r&b charts in 1958. It was the first of many. He has
had more than 116 charted hits in his career — second only to Elvis Presley.
But it was the release of “Papa’s Got A
Brand New Bag” and “I Got You (I Feel Good)” in 1965, with their polyrhythmic,
psycho-sexual beat, that helped redefine soul music and set the music world on
fire — and the world in general on its ass. Both tunes are as relevant today
as they were when they exploded 40 years ago.
Known to really crack the whip as a band leader, Brown demanded the same perfection from his
band that he did of himself. Brown’s band has always been notoriously,
flawlessly tight, with its leader at one time fining band members $50 per
dropped note, flubbed line, or lagging beat. This led to his entire band
walking out on him in 1969.
Brown charted some throughout the ’70s but by the mid-’80s
trouble had caught up with him once again and he was sentenced to six years in
prison. He was paroled after two.
Throughout the rollercoaster of hit record highs and legal
lows Brown has always performed live, the frenzy and salacious sex appeal
intact. No one has ever matched James Brown’s passion, intensity, animal
magnetism, and soul. No one ever will.
James Brown plays at the Eastman Theatre, 60 Gibbs Street, on Saturday, June 10, at
8 p.m., as part of the Rochester International Jazz Festival. $37.50-$65. For more information visit www.rochesterjazz.com.
This article appears in May 31 – Jun 6, 2006.
