Let's face it, James Brown is more of an icon than a musician. In fact, he's one of the few chosen faces on the metaphorical "Mount Rushmore" of American Rhythm 'n' Blues who can still actually speak. And sing. And dance. Maybe marginally less energetically than he could when he stole a rock show from The Stones way back in 1964, but last night, at the Point Theatre, he proved he's still the man, the "black Elvis".
Then again, Brown was backed by an eleven-piece band which was tight, sharp as a switchblade, focused and funky. Add to that four similarly soulful backing vocalists and (believe it or not) four "gogo" dancers who dared to move in a shamelessly politically-incorrect manner, and you have the greatest show band show to hit these shores since . . . well, there are no parallels.
And when James Brown himself "hit" the stage with flag-waving anthems like Living In America and gospelblues-based tunes like Try Me, that showband show became a Southern Baptist revival meeting, with sex rearing its glorious head. Though It's A Man's, Man's, Man's World, sung without the slightest trace of irony, still sounds sexist and stupid, like the battle-cry of a bygone era, it was tellingly sung by Brown with great conviction. Nevertheless, when he reappropriated Soul Man and called on the audience to chant his name, James Brown was on a home run. And when this self-described "Godfather of Soul" sang I Feel Good, he was speaking for maybe five thousand people, a symbolic gesture which, really, can't be that bad given that the joy James Brown initiated came just six days after the Omagh bombing. And that, my friends, is the true power of pop.
When he ended the show with Get Up, I Feel Like Being A Sex Machine, that, too, probably prompted many couples to assert life over death, sex as a form of defiance. If that's not what rock 'n' roll is all about, then it doesn't exist.
A gig-in-a-million.