At what age does one stop being enthusiastic about music? When does one stop caring or exploring? I've been expecting my obsession to lessen for about 15 years now, but it's yet to happen.
On the one hand, I know there are a million more important things than music.
But on the other hand, what other art performs even a tenth of the service? What else drives, inspires, reflects and amuses like music? A film can be great art while it's shown - but why watch it again? Unlike music, to repeat the experience only lessens the rewards. A book comes a close second, particularly in terms of inspiration - but a book can't offer the whole instant immersion that music can and does (and this from an enthusiastic writer).
All of which only begins to explain the almost spiritual conversion I've recently had to disco music.
Let's just write that again.
Disco music
How did this whole genre, which itself can be split into a constant mutation of sub-genres, which has led and developed into the finest music of the latter two decades of the 20th century and way on into the first decade of the 21st, how did this music become so maligned? What weird prejudice occurred and set (like an odd Fascistic Glue)?
For me, the conversion began in earnest maybe three years ago, from a long foundation of only the briefest pebbles and seeds. And, perhaps like disco music itself, it began with Mr James Brown.
For many years I owned three records which I enjoyed but didn't consider particularly important: JAMES BROWN Sex Machine - The Greatest Hits, Classic Funk Mastercuts Volume 1 and Classic Salsoul Mastercuts Volume 1(a record I only bought because I was having a rich week and thought the previous Funk album was okay).
As I began replacing old vinyl with CD - due to space more than any other concern - I eventually came to these two. Should I replace them?
I ebay-replaced Classic Funk Mastercuts Volume 1. Not having been enthused by anything like this for years, I replayed The JB's and JAMES BROWN tracks ('Gimme Some More' & "Stone To The Bone") almost endlessly and wondered: What makes these grooves work? What spirit drives this music past intellectualism? If you choose not to dance, then the music just transcendentally grooves you. The music bonds - it isn't difficult to learn or play but it's difficult to play together. It's difficult to do so well.
A bass-line as simple as Stone to the Bone - maybe four or five notes in total for ten minutes - has to rest with the drums to move your feet. It has to draw only the slightest attention to itself to allow the guitar and horns room. It has to be there so that Mr Brown can in turn both shout inspirations and make yousmile. In other words, the twin aims of dance - spiritual elevation and, gosh darn almighty, fun!
Mr Brown was, of course, the hardest working man in show business, and a quick examination of his peak years shows that this wasn't just hyperbole.
Between 1965-1975 James Brown released a seemingly infinite number of recordings under his own name, under his backing band's names, under various pseudonyms while also performing production duties for other artists on various labels, which are basically James Brown records with different (often female) vocalists. (At the same time, James Brown maintained not just one of the toughest performing schedules ever, but various businesses not directly connected with the thing they call "show". How the man survived as long as he did is anyone's guess.)
A lot of this music is still difficult to get hold of or spread among various CD anthologies of varying qualities… But, suffice to say, much of James Brown's best stuff from this period is on compilations - "In The Jungle Groove", "Foundations of Funk 1964-1969", "Funk Power 1970", "Make It Funky 1971-1975" and The J.B's "Funky Good Time: The Anthology" are all essential.
During 1965-1975 James Brown had too much going on to be concerned with consistent whole albums. His thing was 7” singles spread out into "Part 1" on the A-side and "Part 2" on the B-side. On the above compilations, most of these are re-edited back to their original long form, making the tracks into some of the best 12” singles never made.
Out of the actual original albums I own by James Brown, only two are truly consistently great: Damn Right I Am Somebody by Fred Wesley & The J.B's and the ultimate James Brown masterpiece: 1974's The Payback.
The fact that The Payback is still only widely known among funk/dance fans is as great an example of the prejudice against black / dance music as any. When those all-important "Best of" lists are compiled on a monthly basis, if any James Brown album gets mentioned at all it's his first Live at the Apollo album. A great album, an uncompromising album - but not an album which has stood the test of time very well. Like a lot of Ray Charles, one has to squint one's eyes almost shut to see what was / is (?) so great about it.
