Star Time

Every time I teach a class in public speaking of any kind, I end up quoting James Brown. Once, when asked why he favored purple suits festooned with rhinestones, he responded:

"Because I want everybody to know where the show is."

I saw James Brown perform twice. The first time was October 11, 1986. I caught the late show at a suburban Detroit theater after seeing Neil Young and Crazy Horse at Cobo Hall. (Yes, two shows in one night). Brown was great, but was in the immediate wake of Brown's appearance in Rocky IV. Brown assumed that the suburban audience was interested in "Living in America" and not a whole lot more. He performed it twice.

This was a shame, as some of us were there hoping to see traces of the man who stole the T.A.M.I. show, or at least the guy who cut "UNITY" with Afrika Bambaataa two years earlier. The compilation "In the Jungle Groove," which was released that year went on to become the most sampled album ever. But he wasn't mining that set of grooves. He even skipped the cape routine on "Please, Please, Please" and I couldn't help but feel cheated.

The second time I saw him was at Soldier Field, for his first show after his release from prison in August of 1991. And on Xmas, I was getting set to write up my own recollection of this concert as a tribute to JB, and I trolled the 'net hoping to find the date or any details. Lo and behold, I found this magnificent remembrance of the whole thing from a guy who just started his own blog.

Dan captures the whole event beautifully. I'll chime in with what it looked like from my seats on the west side of the grandstands in Soldier Field. My wife (then girlfriend) Carol and I sat through a looooooong set by Artie "Blues Boy" white, whom we had never heard of. As we were watching Mr. White, the video screens to the left and right of the stage were carted up without explanation. Rumors then began rocketing through the crows that the promoters of the concert had been counting on higher attendance in order to pay the performers, and that some of the advertised performers had shown up (like Little Richard) and demanded payment up front, and then departed when it became clear that there was no money to be had.

Reverend Al Sharpton was sent out on a couple of occasions to assure the crowd that no matter what else transpired, James Brown would be appearing, but people became increasingly hot and impatient. That said, the fatalistic humor with which the people in my section greeted each successive insult made the wait entertaining.

And yes, James Brown did hit the stage with a big band, and despite the ridiculous set-up, with the stage set up on the football field with no "floor" seating, leaving performers at least thirty yards from anyone who had purchased a ticket, James Brown shouted, kicked, and sang until he got that crowd on its feet.

And James Brown did jump off that stage, being, at that point, 58 years old and fresh out of the joint. And he ran around Soldier Field, pausing briefly at every other section or so to wave his arms and exhort the crowd to get up offa that thing. And at that moment, he turned the worst concert rip-off of my life (Al Green, Aretha Franklin, and Little Richard were listed on the posters but did not appear) into a memory well worth the grossly inflated ticket price. And then some.

I doubt James Brown got paid that day. And I suspect he knew he wasn't going to get paid even as he headed for the stage. But the stage was the place where he could get on the good foot.

Under ridiculous, unfair, and stupid circumstances, we got everything James Brown had to offer. And that was plenty.

This is the place where remembrances like this typically drop in an "R.I.P." But for James Brown that's all wrong.

Rest? I prefer to think that James Brown has boarded the Night Train.