James Brown
King Heroin

THE REVIEW

1972. Still the Vietnam War. Nixon will win the elections. U.s.a - U.s.s.r. epic basketball finale at the Munich Olympics. James Brown, for a couple of years, has been touring with a new group: J.B.'s. He has a new contract with Polydor. Successes follow one after the other. In 1970, it's that "Sex Machine" that will make funk history. At the beginning of 1972, he's back at the top of the charts with "Talking Loud and Saying Nothing". He was never particularly committed to politics, not like Sly, although he left his messages, from: "Don't Be a Drop-Out" to "Say It Loud - I'm Black and Proud!". February. A new single: "King Heroin". A message to the nation:

"Ladies and Gentlemen,

Fellow Americans,

Lady Americans,

This is James Brown,

I wanna talk to You about one of our most deadly killers in the country today..."

And what does the Godfather of Soul talk to us about? Heroin.

But not with ambiguous tones, of fascination or decadence, as many singers did before him in the fabulous sixties (even my beloved Stones). No, it's an act of denunciation, sad and disenchanted. He realized that this drug will kill mostly the poor, the marginalized, the stateless. "I came to this country without passport... so be you Italian, Jewish, Black, or Mex...". It will force them to sell their bodies, make them forget school books, it will disintegrate families.

The base is a damn slow rhythm'n'blues, supported by two guitars, one in a hypnotic scale, one in flat pick, splashes of organ, the horns divided into two sections, one of call and one of response, the drums seem played by Ringo Starr. Further delight: James Brown delivers his sermon in rhyme.

I love this track so much that I can get up from the couch and play the 45 again even ten times in a row. If you don't have a record player, you can find it in a full-length album called "There It Is" or in a collection of four CDs named "Star Time," absolutely wonderful. It was finally, a digression if I may, a flagship of the fiery live shows of James Chance's Contortions, about thirty years ago.

For M.: it will be the first thing I will ask you to dance, when I come over, as long as they have a decent juke-box...