THE PHONE-CALL HAD BECOME HEATED. Over in Hollywood, movie producer Larry Cohen, red-faced and stammering, tried to get a word in edgeways, to dampen down the blaze he’d just started back in Georgia. On the other end of the line, James Brown’s ire roared out of control. He was a man who rarely heard the word “No”, and who’d never before been told, “Your music is not funky enough.”
It was late 1973, the best of times and the worst of times for the Godfather of Soul. Though still a solid box office draw, Brown was slipping in the charts, eclipsed by a younger generation of funk and soul stars. He’d signed a lucrative contract with a new record label, but was being pursued by the IRS over $4.5m in back taxes. Now, the soundtrack he’d just recorded for Cohen’s new movie had been rejected.
Not funky enough? The rebuke sent Brown reeling back to the studio with vengeance and vindication on his mind. If The Man didn’t want this heavy, heavy funk, he’d simply have to rework these rejected grooves into perhaps the greatest music of his career. As history proved, only a fool would bet against a soul as fiercely, unforgivingly driven as James Brown.