POP MUSIC REVIEWS : Brown Finds Soul Mates at Pendleton

The goings-on at this Marine base Saturday night before James Brown hit the stage were marked by the sorts of trappings and contrivances one finds at a USO show.

Young talent-contest winners danced and lip-synched to teen hits. There was flag-waving. Actress Sharon Stone then turned up in a short, red sequined dress, looking and sounding every bit like the stock service-roadshow starlet. She cooed and flattered herself, told hackneyed jokes and delivered a painfully sappy speech about Desert Storm and the dignity of the armed services. Even Gen. Schwarzkopf might have winced.

The audience--not so much servicemen as enlisted devotees of the rock legend--was growing impatient.

But the Godfather still has soul.

James Brown in 1992 is growing ever-closer to becoming the oldest working man in show business. But after three decades and a string of personal problems, he’s still a commanding showman who, unlike many of his contemporaries, deftly defies self-parody.

Granted, it’s a long way from 1965. Papa hasn’t brought anything brand new to his bag for years, and Brown today is somewhere between the Apollo and Vegas. But thankfully, and somewhat remarkably, his performance Saturday clearly fell closer to the former than to the latter.

The James Brown Band started playing at 8:35. The half-hour-and-change since the show started had been excruciatingly long, but in an instant, the 15-piece ensemble (11 instrumentalists and four backup singers) chased away the fidgets and jeers, bringing the faithful to their feet, stomping and clapping.

After a 15-minute prelude worthy of the legend, emcee Johnny Ray introduced The Man Himself.

Brown appeared with all trademarks intact: the inimitable and curious hairdo, the infectious grin, the happy feet and, of course, the shrieks.

You know what you’ll be getting at a James Brown concert. You know the hits he’s bound to sing, the routine, the huge production. Brown delivers what the audience expects and wants, but he doesn’t pander. His spirit hasn’t been divorced from his music; he shouts and shuffles and steps as if it were the first time, though it well may be the millionth.

At one point, he smiled and said: “I feel so good, I could kiss myself!” It was impossible not to believe him. Big, elaborate and carefully choreographed as his show may be, Brown seems as if he’s up there just for the fun of it.

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Indeed, he seems well aware that JB the man can’t possibly match the enormity of JB the icon, so he stays focused on that sense of fun. He is even able to laugh at the icon, and what his devotees attach to it. And that, in turn, helps bring a disarming freshness to old numbers and routines.

He taunted the sparse but enthusiastic crowd by dangling familiar opening lines and then playfully snatching them back. “Can I get into it? Like a sex machine?” Whereupon, he held off two songs before he did get into it. Introducing “It’s A Man’s World,” Brown sang the first two notes (“This is . . .!”) and then stopped. “Don’t do it, James!,” a middle-aged fan squealed with delight. “Don’t do it to me!”

As it turned out, for all the funk and fun of Brown’s show, “Man’s World” provided its most compelling moment. As Brown clenched and cried that this man’s man’s man’s world wouldn’t be nothin’ (“not one little thing!”) without a woman or a girl, one of his female dancers joined him onstage to prove the point with slow movements that were both acrobatic and sensual.

Brown gave up center stage on several occasions, taking over the keyboards to let his skilled and steady corps of musicians strut its stuff. Most of the band members (four horn players, two drummers, a percussionist, two guitarists, a bassist and a keyboard player) have been with Brown since his beginnings, so many of the instrumental interludes and solos were nearly as familiar as Brown’s own jumps and spins--and frequently as enthralling.

Aside from some early problems with the sound system, the only distraction was Stone, whose presence on the bill apparently had little to do with her musical ability. The “Basic Instinct” star joined Brown’s backup singers for two numbers, with dire results. She further revealed an inability to dance that initially was comic, but eventually annoying.

Brown’s next local stop will be in two weeks when he co-headlines the Long Beach Blues Festival with Chuck Berry and Etta James.