James Brown, Erin and Me…
Please Please Please (1963) signed by James Brown
“When I’m on stage, I’m trying to do one thing: bring people joy. Just like the church odes. People don’t go to church to find trouble, they go there to lose it. ”
Augusta, Georgia... the home of The Masters, a celebrated golf tournament where legends of the game and royalty frolic, the azaleas in kaleidoscopic bloom, the majestic drive up Magnolia Lane to the Augusta National clubhouse, the Butler Cabin where champions gather to glory in their gloriousness, the dulcet and solicitous Jim Nantz intoning, "Hello friends, welcome to a tradition unlike any other..." The elites being elite, getting their elite on. Yes, this is not the Augusta, Georgia where James Brown grew up in the late 1930s. His experience was different.
Born in a wooden shack in Barnwell, South Carolina, James' family moved to Augusta when he was five years old. Surrounded by squalor and abject poverty, James' mother sought her sister's assistance, which was granted, but it came with a steep price. The sister ran several brothels in Augusta, so James and his family moved in, not exactly conducive to a nurturing and caring familial environment. Soon, the mother fled to New York City to escape an abusive marriage and James was left to fend for himself, moving in with a different aunt. Undaunted, James learned to play piano and guitar, sing and dance, and hustled on the street for 'buck dances,' which earned him far less than a dollar.
James found solace in the church, the energy, the music, the preachin' and the sanctifyin' helped him heal. He won his first amateur contest singing the Russ Morgan ballad "So Long" when he was eleven years old at the Augusta Lennox Theater, and the die was cast. School work would be eliminated (he dropped out after sixth grade), and James would seek the entertainer's life, a life that would be richly rewarding throughout the next sixty years. His career, though, almost ended when he was convicted of robbery at age sixteen and sent to a juvenile detention center. There, he formed a gospel quartet with other cellmates and chose to sing the sacred over the secular, the hallowed over the profane. Thankfully, that didn't last.
When he was released after serving nearly three years, he joined a gospel group called The Flames, which became The Famous Flames, and later, by the sheer dint of his magnetism and creative abilities, James Brown and The Famous Flames. They had their first million selling hit in 1956 with "Please, Please, Please", a song James wrote when challenged by his idol Little Richard who had scrawled those three words on a cocktail napkin. Alice Bailey, a former DJ in Macon, Georgia known as Party Doll, remembered hearing the song in her neighborhood before it was on the radio when James was attempting to woo a young lady with his composition. "They knew it was a begging song, and they didn't like that. But after he recorded the song, they paid to hear him sing the song, when they could have heard it for free in neighborhood." Clearly, James Brown's reputation as the 'Hardest Working Man In Show Business' was well earned!
Today & Yesterday (1965) signed by James Brown, Maceo Parker, Fred Wesley, Pee Wee Ellis
To delve fully into James Brown's influence and contributions would take several novels. These are a few of my favorite things:
The T.A.M.I show in Santa Monica, California in 1964 when the Rolling Stones followed James Brown's incendiary live act:
Keith Richards termed it the worst mistake of their career as James was livid that he was not the headliner, "We did a bunch of songs, nonstop like always...I don't think I ever danced that hard in my life, and I don't think they'd ever seen a man move that fast. I danced so hard my manager cried, but I really had to. What I was up against was Pop artists - I was R&B. I had to show 'em the difference, and believe me, it was hard." James' famous warning to producers before the show - "Nobody follows James Brown!" - proved undeniably true.
Grits & Soul (1965) signed by James Brown, Maceo Parker, Fred Wesley, Pee Wee Ellis
Helping prevent Boston from igniting in flames after Martin Luther King Jr.'s assassination in 1968:
A young, recently elected Boston Mayor Kevin White wanted to cancel the April 5, 1968 James Brown concert at Boston Garden, concerned that there would be additional rioting as more than one-hundred cities across the country had been plagued by violence and looting in the wake of MLK's murder. Council Member Tom Atkins with Mayor White devised a plan to have James perform, and they enlisted WGBH to televise the event for free on broadcast television, thereby defusing a combustible situation. When the show ended, WGBH played it continuously, and so many folks ended up watching James Brown's riveting performance, they forgot to riot and there was actually less crime than on a regular night! When told of this great success, Mayor Walter Washington of Washington, DC - where rioting had exacted a heavy toll including several fatalities - summoned James Brown to the Capitol City. James went on national television to implore unity and peace, as only he could in rhyming couplets, "Don’t terrorize, organize. Don’t burn; give the kids a chance to learn. Go home. Be ready. Be qualified. Be somebody—that is Black power!"
He is the most sampled artist with more than twelve-thousand credits, especially among hip hop artists:
His beats are sui generis, everyone from Jay-Z, to Kanye, Kendrick Lamarr, Tyler The Creator, and so many others have sampled his work and reimagined it in their recordings. According to whosampled.com, "Funky Drummer", with the crisp, cracklin' and propulsive beat by drummer Clyde Stubblefield, has been sampled more than one-thousand times, and not only hip hop artists Dr. Dre and Kanye, but Pop stars Brittney Spears and Ed Sheeran have also found the genius in the Godfather's grooves. James reflected toward the end of his life, "I'm the most sampled and stolen. What's mine is mine, and what's yours is mine, too … I got a song about that … But I'm never gonna release it. Don't want a war with the rappers. If it wasn't good, they wouldn't steal it." Chuck D of Public Enemy agreed, "I have a lot of musical heroes but I think James Brown is at the top of the list. Absolutely the funkiest man on Earth ... In a black household, James Brown is part of the fabric – Motown, Stax, Atlantic and James Brown."
Some of his lyrics (on paper) seem pedestrian at best, to wit, “Super Bad”
I got soul and I'm super bad
Ha, I love, I love to do my thing
Ha and I, and I don't need, no one else
Sometimes I feels so nice, good god
I jump back, I wanna kiss myself
However, with the tight syncopation between Bootsy Collins on bass, brother Catfish on guitar, and 'Jabo' Starks on drums, "Super Bad" becomes a driving funk anthem on the dance floor, and all pretense about the poetry (or lack thereof) becomes irrelevant. To me, you don't listen to James Brown for his words, or clever turns of phrases, largely, you listen because he got you bumpin' on the dance floor, and James himself was the truest believer, "The one thing that can solve most of our problems is dancing."
That sentiment changed for "Say It Loud - I'm Black and I'm Proud." Still reeling from Dr. King's murder, James wrote perhaps his most strident and political song. James explained, “This was not going to be another hit record by a Black entertainer like my dear friend Sammy Davis Jr.’s ‘Candy Man.' This was the real thing, a wake up call, a rallying cry, a statement of pride.”
Some people say we’ve got a lot of malice
Some say it’s a lot of nerve
But I say we won’t quit moving until we get what we deserve
We have been ‘buked and we have been scorned
We’ve been treated bad, talked about as sure as you’re born
But just as sure as it takes two eyes to make a pair,
Brother we can’t quit until we get our share
Say it loud: I’m black and I’m proud!
It was a long way lyrically from "Cold Sweat", "Hot Pants", "Popcorn", or "Sex Machine", but the results were nearly the same: a throbbing, pulsating dance jam, this time with an ardent social message.
James was a difficult and demanding taskmaster:
"I did a total program like at West Point. They got to be clean, neat. Your shirt got to be pressed, shoes got to be shined, the suit got to be pressed. They got to play correct, they can't be looking off when they should be watching me because they may miss something. I'll fine them. These people would rather not be fined and so they have to look more disciplined, and that's in every situation." There was also a strict no drugs policy which was ironic given James' later well publicized substance troubles. In fact, James dismissed Bootsy and Catfish Collins over their suspected LSD use (which they had taken during a concert) in 1971. Bootsy was sanguine about the firing, "My bass turned into a snake and I can't even remember playing. After, he called me in the back room, as he always did, and was explaining how terrible I was, even when I wasn't taking LSD. I laughed so hard I was on the floor. To him, that was very disrespectful. He had his bodyguard throw me out." The loss to James Brown was George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic's gain, as Bootsy and Catfish went on to acclaimed careers in the service of all things Funk. For the brothers Collins, it was always one nation under a groove!
I saw James Brown many times over the years: as the headliner at the American Booksellers Convention in New Orleans in 1984, at Wolf Trap in Vienna, Virginia in the late 1980s, and in a tent in a parking lot at the grand re-opening of Mitchell's, a high end haberdasher in Westport, CT in 2004 (with Jim Nantz serving as MC!). Each show was a vigorous display of James' showmanship with his precise arrangements, impeccable timing, exhaustive dance moves and flawless musicians. My favorite show was at B.B. King's Club in New York City in the early 2000s, a rare treat to see a legend in a small venue and James did not disappoint.
After the show, Erin asked me if I wanted to go backstage to see James. I told her that James was probably more interested in visiting with her. I was right. So Erin grabbed a couple of albums and went backstage. I waited with another couple who had driven in with us from Connecticut. We waited. And then we waited some more. After thirty minutes, Erin returned triumphantly with the signed vinyl. Here's what she told us: Erin was waiting in a backstage anteroom with Al Sharpton, just outside James' dressing room which was slightly ajar. Sharpton and James had become very close after James' son died in a car crash some thirty years earlier. Meanwhile, James was getting his hair tended to. He was obsessed with his hair, and he maintained a legit hair salon in his home back in Beech Island, South Carolina, directly across the Savannah River and Augusta.
Erin chatted with Reverend Al for a bit, and then was ushered into James' dressing room by Al. James was seated, flanked by his current wife, Tomi Rae Hynie, a Janis Joplin imitator whom James had met years earlier in a way off the strip, third rate Las Vegas revue. Earlier, Tomi Rae had performed a cringeworthy Joplin cover as part of the show. It was quite a scene backstage. James had a cape draped over him, a hair stylist was fussing over his hair, and there were all kinds of hair products and stage wear strewn messily about the room. Erin noted that the Reverend and James had the same hairstyle, bouffants, teased up. Tomi Rae seemed none too pleased that Erin was in the room while James seem quite pleased. There were bawdy jokes and banter unsuitable for a family newspaper, but perfectly appropriate for "The Godfather of Soul" holding court with his close friends. Erin handed James Grits & Soul. "Where did you get this album? Haven't seen this in awhile," James said. This was an obscure instrumental album that James recorded for Smash Records while he was still under contract with King Records. James used the pseudonym Ted Wright as the writer of six original songs. "I've got a lot of interesting stuff," Erin replied. "I bet you do," James quickly responded. Erin thanked James for his music and she left to rejoin us, vinyl safely secured.
Though he had many nick names - "The Godfather of Soul", "The Hardest Working Man In Show Business", "Soul Brother Number One" - there was only one James Brown. He influenced so many, from Michael Jackson to Mick Jagger, Public Enemy to Prince, and everyone in between. James said it best, "Others may have followed in my wake, but I was the one who turned racist minstrelsy into Black Soul, and by doing so, became a cultural force."
Amen, James Brown. Amen. You make us all feel good.
Choice James Brown Cuts:
"I Feel Good" Live, Ed Sullivan Show 1966
"Papa Don't Take No Mess" Live on Soul Train 1974
"Cold Sweat > Ride The Pony > Popcorn" Boston Garden April 5, 1968
"Sex Machine > Good Foot" Live on Soul Train
"Hold On. I'm Comin'" Tomi Rae sings James Brown
"The Payback" Live in Zaire 1974
"Sex Machine" Live in Italy 1971
"Funky Drummer" In The Jungle Groove 1969
Interview with Sonya 1988 before going to prison
"Funky Drummer" over 1,000 samples and counting....
all signed albums/posters from the Kirk vinyl collection
Copyright 2019