The Fabulous James Brown

Mr. Dynomite

I saw James Brown in the mid eighties

At the Apollo Theater

In Harlem

With some crazy artist friends.

The group of us

Took the subway up

Psyched to see

The ‘Man’

The ‘Number One Soul Brother’

‘Dynamite And Outasight’

The ‘King’

The ‘Let Loose’

‘Right On, Tight On’

‘Sex Machine’

‘Soul Power’

‘Funkiest Man On Earth’.

James Brown was AWSOME!

But the audience

Was just as...

I sat amongst

White people

Black people

Drag queens and transvestites

Young and old...

All walks of life

Made the pilgrimage

To the master

Of soulful funk.

We were colorful

And people were dressed

Loud and proud.

It was a PARTY

And NOBODY sat down.

James Brown and band

Had the Apollo

Rockin’ like church

On Sunday morning.

A year or two before

I went to see my friend’s band

Monkeyspank

In a bar

In DC.

Monkeyspank

Was popular.

A sorta psuedo-post-punk band

With two drummers

And an assault of guitars and bass.

Drug fueled punk psychedelia.

Their music was shattering and the band

Was explosive live.

It was a cool bar

Run by an artist co-op

At this converted gas station

In a really bad neighborhood.

Scary bad.

Most of DC was scary those days.

Their performance was animal.

Powerful blasts of

Soul detergent tribal noise.

When they were finished

I wasn’t

So I walked next door

To a bar

With some friends.

The first thing I noticed

Was the ‘James Brown’

Cover band

Playing on the stage at the back

Of the bar.

I was immediately

Engaged

Rushing up to the front

Of the stage

Ignoring everything else

Around me.

There were only a few people dancing.

So me and my white ludicrous homies

Outrageously dressed punk rockers

Started dancing right there in front of the stage

In front of the band

And the drag singer

Looked JUST like James Brown

‘Soul Brother #1”.

Just like him!

He had the glittering sequined disco suit

The coiffed wave wig

The moves

The mannerisms

The ‘Huh Huh’s”

And the screams.

His sweat was poppin’

And flying off of him

While his black mascara eyes clenched tight

Or bugged out

Intense and flourescent.

‘James Brown’ smiled at us...

We were so into the performance

And dancing

That we didn’t even notice

That we were the only white people

In there.

It didn’t even register

But as I looked around

It was a room full of black people.

Dark black

And they didn’t look too happy

To have us there.

I can only imagine

What we looked like to them

With colored mohawks, shaved heads

Tattoos, piercings

Steel and chrome

Flashing in the barlight.

After a while

I went up to the bar

To order some drinks

And the female ‘dark as night’

Ghetto bartender

Refused me...

There were two of them.

I went up to the other one

And she just pretended like

She didn’t hear me.

When they refused my drinks

I asked if I could get some

Water for me and my friends.

“No”.

I was like

“Are you kidding me?”

“No”.

We were in a dangerous

Ghetto in DC.

I knew that ‘James Brown’

Could sense the intensity

From the stage.

There was an awkwardness

Between us

As we continued to dance in front of ‘him.

He wanted us there.

We were fueling his performance.

We closed that place

At three in the morning.

We danced to the very end

Without drinks and water.

I left a tip on the bar

Noticeably

In front of everyone.

And I made it very clear

That it was for

‘James Brown’

‘Funky Brother In The Struggle’.