Still This Man’s World

On the anniversary of his death, taking stock of the most influential man in pop music history.


After 40 years, I still vividly recall the first time the music of James Brown stopped me in my tracks.

I was 8 years old and wandering up the long hallway in our apartment on Chicago’s South Side. I heard the funky sounds of “Say it Loud, (I’m Black and I’m Proud)” coming from my brother’s bedroom at the end of the hall. It was 1968, and it wasn’t uncommon to hear great music coming from the bedrooms of my teenaged siblings; in fact, back then you could just turn on the radio and hear great music, a stark contrast to today’s stations which champion songs of savvy marketing over sonic genius.

I poked my head gingerly into the room, hoping I wasn’t interrupting anything. I wasn’t; it was just my brother, Phil, and two of his best friends, Roger and Otha. When I asked who that was, Roger grabbed the 45 off the turntable, spun the seven-inch vinyl disc on his finger like a basketball and said “It’s the Godfather of Soul.” Otha just smiled and said “Soul Brotha No. 1.” My brother took the traditional route and answered “that’s James Brown.”

I was happy to hear the nicknames, I knew lots of Jameses and several Browns, but that music was singular. Roger put it on again.

For many performers, a hit like “Say It Loud” would be a career peak; for James Brown, it was just another day at the office. Brown had dozens of hits and that doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of his significance. He died on Christmas Day two years ago, and we’d be remiss if we didn’t commemorate his legacy.

James Brown is the most influential figure in popular music history. His singing, dancing and music left an indelible imprint on American culture, and his spirit defined a pivotal moment in American history. I bet a lot of people were stopped in their tracks by his music. It happened to me—as they say in Chicago politics—early and often.

“Say it Loud” was one of many of Brown hits during an unprecedented run from the late ’50s to the mid ’70s that changed pop music. Most of them are collected on the 1991 compilation Star Time. He went from invigorating hip-hop to creating state-of-the-art rhythm and blues to inventing funk. He helped launch the careers of Maceo Parker, Fred Wesley, Bootsy Collins and many, many others.

What had intrigued me so much about the music was the beat. It wasn’t one and TWO and three and FOUR, which is where the emphasis falls in most popular music. In Brown’s music, the progression was ONE and two and THREE and four. That little innovation became the cornerstone for his precise beats, turn-on-a-dime horn sections and a music that still feels fresh and contemporary today, 40-50 years after it was made. It is impossible to imagine hip-hop without the sample from Brown’s “Funky Drummer.”

Brown’s vocals were inimitable. He sang each song as if it truly were his last. His trademark screams are a cornerstone of pop and its influence spread far and wide with surprising speed, from fellow soul singers like Bobby Womack and Leslie Wilson to rockers like Robert Plant and Steven Tyler. The passion unleashed in every guttural James Brown vocal is something that nearly every singer must understand and address.