“Mothers are beautiful, they are really beautiful.” Bill Cosby.
Y’all want to hear that beat, right?
This is too rich for just a Beat of the Day.
In case you’ve never read it, here is Jonathan Lethem’s long 2006 James Brown profile for Rolling Stone:
To be in the audience when James Brown commences the James Brown Show is to have felt oneself engulfed in a kind of feast of adoration and astonishment, a ritual invocation, one comparable, I’d imagine, to certain ceremonies known to the Mayan peoples, wherein a human person is radiantly costumed and then beheld in lieu of the appearance of a Sun God upon the Earth. For to see James Brown dance and sing, to see him lead his mighty band with the merest glances and tiny flickers of signal from his hands; to see him offer himself to his audience to be adored and enraptured and ravished; to watch him tremble and suffer as he tears his screams and moans of lust, glory and regret from his sweat-drenched body — and is, thereupon, in an act of seeming mercy, draped in the cape of his infirmity; to then see him recover and thrive — shrugging free of the cape — as he basks in the healing regard of an audience now melded into a single passionate body by the stroking and thrumming of his ceaseless cavalcade of impossibly danceable smash Number One hits, is not to see: It is to behold.
The James Brown Show is both an enactment — an unlikely conjuration in the present moment of an alternate reality, one that dissipates into the air and can never be recovered — and at the same time a re-enactment: the ritual celebration of an enshrined historical victory, a battle won long ago, against forces difficult to name — funklessness? — yet whose vanquishing seems to have been so utterly crucial that it requires incessant restaging in a triumphalist ceremony. The show exists on a continuum, the link between ebullient big-band “clown” jazz showmen like Cab Calloway and Louis Jordan and the pornographic parade of a full-bore Prince concert. It is a glimpse of another world, even if only one being routinely dwells there, and his name is James Brown. To have glimpsed him there, dwelling in his world, is a privilege. James Brown is not a statue, no. But the James Brown Show is a monument, one unveiled at select intervals.
For more on James Brown, check out this piece by Chairman Mao.
[Painting by Ben Harley]
Cause we can never get enough James…
Pass the peas like they used to say…
I love peas, even though the wife says they don’t count as vegetables (“too carby”). But they are another sign that spring is near even though the frozen petite peas are great year round. Head on over to Saveur and check out 16 recipes for young green peas.
And even if you don’t dig peas, bounce to this:
[Photo Credit: Adventures in Shaw]
Break…even thelarmis can get with this:
Let’s git on der good foot this morning, shall we?