James Joseph Brown from Barnwell, South Carolina, died yesterday. He was 73. You probably never knew James Joseph Brown, or even know where Barnwell South Carolina is located.
But you most emphatically have heard of James Brown, the Godfather of Soul. You couldn’t miss him. A high, shiny pompadour conk, over a sweat-drenched face contorted with the effort of wringing every last drop of emotion out of lyrics strained through a gravel pit of a throat. Then those blurred hips and legs, never stopping, always moving, usually in different directions, but always to the pounding beats of his band, The Famous Flames.
Even with slow numbers, like It’s a Man’s World the sweat and emotions poured from his pores.
Every urban music artist should sit back today and say a word of thanks to the mother-source of funk.
Soul Brother Number One, Mister Dynamite, Minister of the New Super Heavy Funk. Mister Please, Please, Please, The Godfather of Soul, The Hardest Working Man in Showbusiness
Mister…Jaaaames…Brrrownnnn!
RoadDave 