by Mary Rizzo, Jackson, NJ

I’ve seen many concerts, but none was more amazing than James Brown’s last show at the Count Basie Theatre in Red Bank, NJ. The show was electric. I was used to indie rock shows with low production value and sullen, moody artist types who can barely be asked to smile at the audience, never mind get up and dance.

Brown’s show was a whirlwind, almost a circus. He brought an entourage with him. The MC, dressed in a sharp suit, introduced him. His backing band must’ve had 9 people in it. Two dancing girls, wearing tight shorts with “JB” on the back kept him company. But the star was Brown. He sang, he danced. He showed that he was the Godfather of Soul and the Hardest Working Man in Show Business. He was seventy-two years old, but acted decades younger and kept it up for two hours.

The most powerful moment for me was when he sang, “It’s a Man’s Man’s Man’s World.” Cliche as it sounds, shivers ran down my spine when I heard it. I still remember that feeling today. One year later, he was dead. I’m just glad my mother and I got to have the James Brown experience, even if it was only once.