In a recent issue of The Nation, Pearl Jam frontman Eddie Vedder was quoted as saying, “One of the best ways to deal with some problems every once in a while is to dance all over them.” Vedder would probably find a like mind in Sharon Jones, a 46-year-old firecracker of a soul singer whose latest album, Dap-Dippin’ With Sharon Jones And The Dap-Kings, was one of the most convincing reasons to hit the dance floor in 2002.
Dap-Kings bassist and songwriter Bosco Mann was obviously born and bred on classic James Brown LPs, as every track on Dap-Dippin’ aspires for tight, Live At The Apollo-sized grooves. Each song is an unflinching homage to the loose, sweaty funk of the JB’s, driven by nimble horns, crackling guitar, pulsating bass and the taut snap of the snare drum. There’s even a Godfather of Soul-styled live introduction of “Miss Sharon Jones” that kicks off the album.
Given all of these factors, the music is still delightfully fresh and energetic–probably because there are few funk/R&B bands out there who sound straight outta 1968. Jones belts out each note with a soulful, gravelly passion, taking all of Brown’s legendary heat-of-the-moment screams and injecting them with potent female instincts.
The songs rarely tread from the break-chorus-break formula of all of the JB’s greatest hits (with the exception of the Motown-flavored ballad “Make It Good To Me”). “Pick It Up, Lay It In The Cut” and a cover of Janet Jackson’s “What Have You Done For Me Lately?” are a few of Dap-Dippin’s standout grooves – bereft of intricate solos or drastic changes in tempo or time signature, the tracks are simple, straight-ahead and smart enough to never overstep their bounds.
This is not the type of record that will change the face of music; it’s not groundbreaking in any sense of the word, and it won’t inspire anyone to sit down and write introspective poetry. That’s not its purpose. In a nation where most people rely on Jerry Bruckheimer for their escapism, Sharon Jones is reminding the folks living in the real world that sometimes, there is no better way to deal with the stresses of the day than rolling up your sleeves and cutting loose to the sounds of the funky drummer.
Appeared in Issue One, 2003, of Traffic East.