THE GODFATHER OF SOUL IS DEAD
May 3, 1933 - December 25, 2006
When I was in college, I remember a local radio station announcing "James Brown is Dead." I remember being distraught until I later learned that it was just the nonsensical title of a random song by L.A. Style. Even back then, with only a lone JB greatest hits CD in my collection (as opposed to countless albums today), I recognized the true genius and legend that is James Brown.
Determined not to risk him actually dying before I could see him perform, I eventually saw the Godfather live in concert. Way past his prime, in his 50s, he could still electrify a crowd in ways that I had never seen before. He still had his magical dance moves, his dramatic flair, and a knack for conducting the band in a way that suggested higher powers. Sure, there were plenty of cheesy moments reminiscent of a Vegas lounge show, but watching him put the sweatiest of passions behind his songs made it one of the greatest live shows I've ever attended.
After I heard him perform "Say It Loud (I'm Black and I'm Proud)", I had never been prouder to be black, until I remembered that I wasn't black. That sounds like a joke, but it's really not.
Without James Brown, I can't imagine music, as it exists today. There aren't many artists that I can say that about. The breakbeat of "Funky Drummer," alone, has spawned hours of music on my iPod, not to mention all the syncopated horn hits of the JB's, Maceo's solos, and Bootsy's bass lines that define funk/soul today.
This is a sad Christmas, for sure.
James Brown, the Genius of Love, the Godfather of Soul, R.I.P.
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