The Real King Is Dead

I'm sure everyone is blogging about James Brown but, well, he’s dead. Luckily, I did get to see him in concert before he died. A few years ago, I saw him in Battery Park in downtown Manhattan and someone in his entourage wheeled out a giant birthday cake and told the crowd it was James Brown’s birthday. We all felt really cool and special, sang happy birthday and it seemed historic. A month or so later, I was in Tennessee and I saw James Brown perform at Bonaroo and they did the same birthday shpiel. The guy next to me had a huge grin on his face and I knew what he was thinking, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him that he wasn’t part of a historical something or other, but was just witnessing cheap theatrics.

I tell this story to prove a point. James Brown is probably the only person (except for, perhaps, Chuck Berry and Willie Nelson) who could (and should) get away with this kind of thing. He invented funk, for god’s sake. At least as far as I’m concerned, faked birthdays, PCP rampages, and police chase outs are totally excusable. RIP James Brown.

James Brown: Santa Claus Go Straight To The Ghetto.

1 comment:

Tony said...

Timetable contents? What do you mean? OKO ... I want you to write a log entry for me here about Mongolian music, and maybe about humie singers. Do you have any good sound files?