The Midnight Ramble

James Brown, The Godfather of Soul (1933-2006)

The Hardest-Working Man in Show Business

Yesterday I had lunch with my friend Alan. Alan is an artist, a thinker, and a walking, talking music encyclopedia. He can cover many genres with tidbits of information. It is a treat to be with Alan and talk about music and performers. I shared about writing this post featuring my attendance at a James Brown concert and Alan shared the following experience.

Alan and a friend went to a James Brown concert at a baseball stadium in Miami, Florida. A stage had been constructed over the pitcher’s mound. At some point Brown leapt off the stage and moved toward the bleachers. As he got closer to the audience he took off his cufflinks and hurled them into the crowd. Alan realized that one of the cufflinks was coming in his direction. It landed at his feet! He got it and carried it with him for some time. What a memento — tossed by the man himself.

Now my tale, which is not nearly as exciting as Alan’s story and good luck, but a peek into the draw of James Brown. Brown was coming on as a big star while I was in high school. I listened to his recordings, saw him on TV, and delighted in his tremendous energy. You may recall I lived, as did many others, in a “sundown town”, where people of color had to leave the city limits by the time the sun set. Of course, we had no black students in our high school. My experience with black folks was nil. However, I was drawn to black athletes and entertainers. Hank Aaron and Roy Campanella were heroes. Nina Simone, Sammy Davis Jr., Ray Charles, and Lena Horne were favorites.

In 1962 during my senior year Brown came to the Morris Civic Auditorium with the James Brown Revue. I got a ticket for the Midnight Ramble.

The first show of the evening was a couple hours long. At 12 midnight they started over! The intensity and length of shows were amazing. His goal: "give people more than what they came for — make them tired, 'cause that's what they came for.”

The Revue dancers gyrated for the entire show — from one song to the next. The band worked as hard. Of course, Brown was Mr. Dynamite all night long. There was no break!

A trademark feature of Brown's stage shows, usually during the song "Please, Please, Please", involved Brown dropping to his knees while clutching the microphone stand in his hands, prompting the show's longtime MC, Danny Ray, to come out, drape a cape over Brown's shoulders and escort him off the stage after he had worked himself to exhaustion during his performance. As Brown was escorted off the stage by the MC, Brown's vocal group, the Famous Flames (Bobby Byrd, Lloyd Stallworth, and Bobby Bennett), continued singing the background vocals "Please, please don't go-oh".^[74] Brown would then shake off the cape and stagger back to the microphone to perform an encore. Wikipedia

I‘m in the balcony and the only white person in sight. I could not spot another light skinned person on the first floor. Those pulsating around me, did they see me? If so, what did they think? “What the hell, this honky must be lost!”

It was a night to remember. Brown was a complicated, but extremely talented man. I still enjoy seeing YouTube videos of his performances. Check out this medley!

Another time I returned to the Morris Civic for a Ray Charles concert. The concert ended shortly after it started. Ray was led off the stage. He was so high he could not continue the show. Another complicated, talented man.