Please, Please Don't Go

This week, America lost an important figure from the era of the 60s and early 70s, a politically charged, conflicted era that this man should be credited with restoring hope to.

Not Gerald Ford. I'm talkin' the Godfather of Soul.

Ladies and gentleman, the deadest working man in show business...

James Brown is no longer living in America, or anywhere for that matter. But he always will. He's answering the age-old philosophical question, does the soul live on after the body?

The JB was one of a handful of performers whose legacy is still solidly burning (See Chuck Berry when you can). He was exponentially influential. In the most obvious way, James was an antecedent to Parliament-Funkadelic, and the Commodores and all of 70s funk, and I'm doing him disrespec' by using words like "antecedent" and "exponential" to talk about him.

But, brothers and sisters, and I'm testifying, because James taught us to do that... Musically, James begat the P-Funk, which begat hip hop ("It Takes Two" has to rock every party; it starts with a James sample), and also begat rock acts like Rage Against the Machine and the Chili Peppers. And we're skipping all the acts Soul Brother Number One fathered on the straight-up soul tip, cats like Otis and Tina and Wilson and... I could go on – I'm in a ramblin' mood, but it probably has something to do with this leftover eggnog spiked with brandy and sitting at room temperature for a day, or two --, but I'm gonna take it to a bridge.

James begat sex-talkin' and groove-layin'. I mean, he was, was a Sex Machine. James preceded Marvin Gaye and Al Green and Barry White, which begat many begittings. And I rely on records by these cats to convince girls in my dimly lit cave that they are with a smooth and large Black man.

Like I said, he testified like no other. He was one of the first acts to get political... And how timeless does "Funky President" feel? And he never did it at the expense of the jam. He was never David Crosby blithering like an idiot at Monterey about grassy knolls, or anything along the lines of that dated 60s Freedom Rock. You didn't realize you were getting the talking-to. You were too busy gettin' down with your bad self.

Many of the acts that are now considered greats copped part of their stylings from James. Robert Plant (the blonde guy from Zeppelin, kids) whelped like him. There was Jim Morrison's groovy stage patter. There's Mick Jagger's dancing, except for that weird chicken move.

Without James Brown's model as to how to work a crowd, Public Enemy would have been Flavorless, and probably a little heavy-handed. And Flavor Flav would've been a sign spinner for some condos on Ventura and Coldwater. FLAV: (pointing at clock necklace) "I think it's time you got a luxury apartment. That way, G." And VH1 may have to show some music videos.

And you still see precision and showmanship shining that stems with Mr. Dynamite. Go to YouTube and watch some OK Go! videos.

I could drop paragraph upon paragraph until I had stacks and stacks of paragraphs, and never get to all the facts, brother. Hey! I mean, no James Brown, no Prince, but I've done said what I got to say; and all these words jus' in the way. Go and dig yourself some James Brown. Get his "20 Greatest Hits" CD, or "Live at the Apollo."

And if you need to mourn the departed, well, the best way to do that in this case is to get up offa that thang and dance 'til you feel better.