James Brown

James Brown

James Joseph Brown (Barnwell, Carolina del Sur, 3 de mayo de 1933 - Atlanta, Georgia, 25 de diciembre de 2006) cantante de funk y soul estadounidense, conocido también como "Soul Brother Number One", "Mr. Dynamite", "The Hardest-Working Man in Show Business", "Minister of The New Super-Heavy Funk", "Universal James", pero quizá su sobrenombre más famoso sea "the Godfather of Soul" (El Padrino del Soul). Nació el 3 de mayo de 1933, en una granja en Barnwell, Carolina del Sur y murió el 25 de diciembre del año 2006 en Atlanta, Georgia, a la edad de 73 años. Proviene de una familia pobre de un barrio marginal. Esto le obligó a desempeñar desde la adolescencia todo tipo de trabajos. Abandonado por su madre, Brown creció con su padre, un trabajador itinerante, hasta que terminó en Augusta (Georgia), donde una tía regentaba una fonda que también funcionaba como timba y prostíbulo. Sin apenas educación, el niño Brown procuró ganarse la vida limpiando zapatos, recogiendo algodón y robando piezas de coches. Antes de cumplir los veinte años ya había sido detenido por robo a mano armada y fue condenado por ellos a cumplir entre 8 y 16 años de cárcel (según él, todavía era un menor pero le encerraron y le juzgaron cuando llegó a la edad penal). Fue un buen preso y, tras tres años y un día, le soltaron y estuvo más de tres años en un reformatorio. Fue entonces cuando le acogió la familia de Bobby Byrd, el cantante que le lanzó al estrellato. Compartieron escenarios en el grupo The Flamous Flames.

Letra de King Heroin
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
I had a dream the other night, and I
Was sittin' in my living room
Dozed off to sleep
So I start to dreamin'
I dreamed I walked in a place and
I saw a real strange, weird object
Standin' up talkin' to the people
And I found out it was heroin
That deadly drug that go in your veins
He says:
I came to this country without a passport
Ever since then I've been hunted and sought
My little white grains are nothin' but waste
Soft and deadly and bitter to taste
I'm a world of power and all know it's true
Use me once and you'll know it, too
I can make a mere schoolboy forget his books
I can make a world-famous beauty neglect her looks
I can make a good man forsake his wife
Send a greedy man to prison for the rest of his life
I can make a man forsake his country and flag
Make a girl sell her body for a five-dollar bag
Some think my adventure's a joy and a thriller
But I'll put a gun in your hand and make you a killer
In cellophane bags I've found my way
To heads of state, to children at play
I'm financed in China, ran in Japan
I'm respected in Turkey and I'm legal in Siam
I take my addicts and make 'em steal, borrow, beg
Then they search for a vein in their arm or their leg
So, be you Italian, Jewish, Black or Mex
I can make the most virile of men forget their sex
So now, now, my man, you must (you know) do your best
To keep up your habit until your arrest
Now the police have taken you from under my wing
Do you think they dare defy me, I who am king?
Now, you must lie in that county jail
Where I can't get to you by visit or mail
So squirm -- with discomfort -- wiggle and cough (hack!)
Six days of madness, hah, and you might throw me off
Curse me in name! Defy me in speech!
But you'd pick me up right now if I were in your reach
All through your sentence you've become resolved to your fate
Hear now! Young man and woman, I'll be waitin' at the gate
Don't be afraid, don't run! I'm not chased
Sure my name is Heroin! You'll be back for a taste
Behold, you're hooked!
Your foot is in the stirrup
And make -- haste!
Mount the steed!
And ride him well
For the white horse of heroin
Will ride you to Hell!
To Hell!
Will ride you to Hell!
Until you are dead!
Dead, brother! Dead!
This is a revolution of the mind
Get your mind together
And get away from drugs!
That's the man!
Back! Back

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