Ah, Mr James Brown. We’ve had this chat before. I’m a swaying, even got a bit of a chug and a bounce. Head-nodding and shoulders rolling. But my brain and brow are not happy.
It’s ‘A Brand New Day’. As if the title will roll back that pesky second wave feminism.
“Fellas, things have got too far gone. We got to let the girls know what they got to do for us! It’s got to be a drag, man, a man can’t do nothin’ no more”.
(Er, an early masculinist? Yeah, sure feminism has obviously achieved way too much. Yeah, one in three men are sexually assaulted, yeah. Way too far).
“Never get so confident, it’s nothin’ you want to know
Cos after time you lose your thing, then you got to go
You know what we got (tell em)
You got to use it carefully, can’t be a total loss”
What I do with ‘it’ or my ‘mess’, ‘thing’, or ‘business’, ain’t nothing to do with you. (Ooh it’s rubbing off on me).
(Nodding head, shuffling around. A bop, a bouncy roll.)
“Walk away and twist your hips, make sure you keep him weak”
Yeah. Sure. Fun. Also. That’s not all. Sexual power can keep men weak, but what else?
“Don’t let nobody take ‘care ‘your business better than you do
Do what he want, give him what he wants, and respect will come to you”
But, we know this, it doesn’t. Disrespect does. ‘Cos when you lose your thing, then that’s it. Look, I love sexy dancing funk soul gender play. Calling out and shaking it up. But there’s underlying shit here that rubs counter-current against my soul joy, the anger friction getting tighter and tighter.
Whoa inter-generational crossing-times retrospective imaginary argument. Fun fun.