Chuck Brown passed away today at age 75.  The conventional press
coverage only captures the reflection of what Chuck was, and is: the
musical soul and heart of Washington, DC.

The go go beat came from "Mr. Magic," Grover Washington Jr's mid
1970s tour de force that was a huge hit in DC.  But the sound of go go
came from Chuck's wide ranging musical taste and his love for
performing.  He did it until he could do it no mo'.

When I was growing up in DC, too young to hang out at dive bars,
he played every weekend at Mr. Y's on Rhode Island Ave. NE, maybe
a half mile from my house.  At that time he, and his audience, were
making the transition from blues and jazz covers to create DC's own
sound -- go go is party music, but party music with a seriousness that
comes from its musical roots.

And as go go evolved to create a space for bands that were being
crowded out by the rise of the DJ, who could fill a club for a much
lower cost than live musicians, go go in turn influenced DJs (including
me) - keeping dance floors going between songs in hours-long sets
long before most people ever heard DJs mixing tracks.

The sound never really caught on with the mass audience,  There were
a few radio hits and an ill-fated attempt by Chris Blackwell of Island
Records to break go go out globally (and make a lot of money) the
way he did for reggae.  All that is history now.

Go go is the sound of noontime concerts in DC's downtown squares
with throngs of office workers.  It's the sound of hot summer evening
concerts at Carter Barron and a dozen other bandshells around the
region.  It's a highlight at the 9:30 Club (the current one and the
original, at 930 F St).  But most of all it's the sound of neighborhood
clubs on the east side of the city into the Maryland suburbs, "meet me
at the go go, about half past nine" and "party til dawn."

Chuck Brown didn't do it all on his own, but he truly was the godfather
of go go.  And as he often said, his ability to connect to the audience
and to inspire other bands to follow the groove and the musicianship
were the most satisfying results of all.

The go go sound has been picked up on countless hits and influenced
many other genres (hip hip, house, techno...).  It's a reminder that there
are two cities: Washington, the nation's capital and a world center,
and DC, a real city with a real history and a real presence.

The article by RIchard Harrington (my boss in the late 1970s at
the long-expired Unicorn Times, predecessor to the City Paper) in
the Washington Post in 2001 isn't readily available online, but here's
a good story:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/09/25/AR2009092502858.html

The best interview:

http://www.nea.gov/av/avCMS/Brown-podcast-transcript.html

A documentary that captures go go at its apogee:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nC7bzLib0GY

And Chuck and the band at their best: "That'll Work!"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wRn2EM9KepQ

-- fh

---------------------------

http://www.washingtonpost.com/local/obituaries/chuck-brown-dies-the-godfather-of-go-
go-was-75/2012/05/16/gIQAJAfPUU_print.html

Chuck Brown dies: The ‘Godfather of Go-Go’ was 75

By Chris Richards, Wednesday, May 16, 1:43 PM

Chuck Brown, the gravelly voiced bandleader who capitalized on funk’s
percussive pulse to create go-go, the genre of music that has
soundtracked life in black Washington for more than three decades,
died May 16 at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. He was 75.

The death, from complications from sepsis, was confirmed by his
manager, Tom Goldfogle. Mr. Brown had been hospitalized for pneumonia.

Known as the “Godfather of Go-Go,” the performer, singer, guitarist
and songwriter developed his commanding brand of funk in the mid-1970s
to compete with the dominance of disco.

Like a DJ blending records, Mr. Brown used nonstop percussion to
stitch songs together and keep the crowd on the dance floor, resulting
in marathon performances that went deep into the night. Mr. Brown said
the style got its name because “the music just goes and goes.”

In addition to being go-go’s principal architect, Mr. Brown remained
the genre’s most charismatic figure. On stage, his spirited call-and-
response routines became a hallmark of the music, reinforcing a sense
of community that allowed the scene to thrive. As go-go became a point
of pride for black Washingtonians, Mr. Brown became one of the city’s
most recognizable figures.

“No single type of music has been more identified with Washington than
go-go, and no one has loomed so large within it as Chuck Brown,”
former Washington Post pop music critic Richard Harrington wrote in
2001.

Mr. Brown’s creation, however, failed to have the same impact outside
of the Beltway. The birth of go-go doubled as the high-water mark of
Mr. Brown’s national career. With his group the Soul Searchers, his
signature hit “Bustin’ Loose” not only minted the go-go sound, it
spent four weeks atop the R&B singles chart in 1978.

“Bustin’ Loose” was “the one record I had so much confidence in,” Mr.
Brown told The Post in 2001. “I messed with it for two years, wrote a
hundred lines of lyrics and only ended up using two lines. .?.?. It
was the only time in my career that I felt like it’s going to be a
hit.”

It was Mr. Brown’s biggest single, but throughout the 1980s “We Need
Some Money,” “Go-Go Swing” and “Run Joe” became local anthems,
reinforced by radio support and the grueling performance schedule that
put Mr. Brown on area stages six nights a week.

While rap music exploded across the country, go-go dominated young
black Washington, with groups including Trouble Funk, Rare Essence and
Experience Unlimited (also known as E.U.) following in Mr. Brown’s
footsteps.

Mr. Brown performed less frequently in his final years but still took
the stage regularly. He would often comment on his golden years in
rhyme.

“I’m not retired because I’m not tired. I’m still getting hired, and
I’m still inspired,” he said in 2006. “As long as I can walk up on
that stage, I want to make people happy. I want to make people dance.”

Charles Louis Brown was born in Gaston, N.C., on Aug. 22, 1936. He
never knew his father, Albert Louis Moody, a Marine. He took the
surname of his mother, Lyla Louise Brown, a housekeeper who raised her
several children in poverty.

“We’d go to somebody’s house and [my mother] would say, ‘Please feed
my child. Don’t worry about me. Just feed my child,’ ” Mr. Brown
recalled tearfully in a Post interview in 2011.

Mr. Brown was 8 when his family relocated to Washington, where he
abandoned his schooling for a childhood filled with odd jobs. He sold
newspapers at the bus station and shined shoes at the Navy Yard, where
he recalled being tipped kindly by entertainers including Hank
Williams and Les Paul.

As a teenager, Mr. Brown began to flirt with petty crime and stumbled
into a disastrous situation in the mid-1950s when he shot a man in
what he said was self-defense.

A Virginia jury convicted Mr. Brown of aggravated assault, which was
bumped up to murder when the victim died in the hospital six months
later. Mr. Brown served eight years at the Lorton Correctional
Complex. There, he swapped five cartons of cigarettes for another
inmate’s guitar.

Upon his release, Mr. Brown returned to Washington, where he worked as
a truck driver, a bricklayer and a sparring partner at local boxing
gyms. He also began to play guitar and sing at backyard barbecues
across the area. His parole officer wouldn’t let him sing in
nightclubs that served liquor.

In 1964, he joined Jerry Butler and the Earls of Rhythm and, in 1965,
a group called Los Latinos. Both local acts played top-40 hits at area
nightclubs; in 1966, Mr. Brown formed his own group, the Soul
Searchers. He originally considered taking the stage name “Chuck
Brown, the Soul Searcher.”

With the Soul Searchers, Mr. Brown scored minor hits in the early ’70s
— “We the People” and “Blow Your Whistle” — but eventually decided to
emulate James Brown by trying to create his own sound. Inspired by the
percussive feel of Grover Washington Jr.’s “Mister Magic” and rhythms
that Mr. Brown internalized as a child in church, he settled on go-
go’s loping, popping cadence.

Mr. Brown sang gospel in childhood and was a guitarist fluent in jazz
and blues who could toggle between gritty riffs and fluid solos. But
he truly excelled behind the microphone, bringing a warm voice that he
could punch up into a hot shout or tamp down into a sandpapery purr or
a gentle croon as the drummer’s conga popped and rumbled along.

The influence of jazz and pop standards could be heard in much of
Brown’s go-go material. Motifs from jazz staples “Moody’s Mood for
Love” and “Harlem Nocturne” became a part of his “Go-Go Swing,” and
Brown reshaped Louis Jordan’s calypso “Run Joe” into a go-go classic.

In turn, go-go would have its influence on jazz when trumpeter Miles
Davis plucked longtime Soul Searchers drummer Ricky Wellman for one of
his last touring bands. Many spotted go-go rhythms on Davis’s 1989
album “Amandla.”

And while hip-hop raced past go-go in the ’80s, Mr. Brown eventually
influenced that genre as well. He was sampled by various hip-hop
artists, most notably in Nelly’s 2002 hit “Hot in Herre.”

But his impact was felt most acutely in the Washington area, where his
sound spawned a generation of bands who would pull go-go into focus in
the ’80s. Mr. Brown was always the genre’s champion, but he was quick
to acknowledge the importance of other band leaders, Andre “Whiteboy”
Johnson of Rare Essence, “Big Tony” Fisher of Trouble Funk and the
late Anthony “Lil Benny” Harley, among them.

“These guys were the pioneers of go-go, and they each have their own
distinct sound and identity,” Mr. Brown told The Post in 2001.
“Everybody has something to offer.”

In 1992, Mr. Brown helped launch the career of the late singer Eva
Cassidy, recording and releasing an album of duets, titled “The Other
Side,” that confirmed his talent as an interpreter of standards.

Formal recognition came late in Mr. Brown’s life. He was nominated for
his first Grammy Award in 2011, when he was 74, for best rhythm-and-
blues performance by a duo or group with vocals for “Love,” a
collaboration with singer Jill Scott and bassist Marcus Miller.

In 2005, the National Endowment for the Arts presented Mr. Brown with
a Lifetime Heritage Fellowship Award. And in 2009, the District named
a segment of Seventh Street NW “Chuck Brown Way”; it was a strip near
the Howard Theatre where he used to shine shoes as a child.

He appeared in advertisements for the D.C. Lottery and The Post and
became the city’s unofficial mascot, known for his extroverted warmth
and willingness to flash his gold-toothed smile for any fan hoping to
join him for a snapshot. An appearance on U Street NW outside Ben’s
Chili Bowl could stop traffic.

“I really appreciate that I can’t go nowhere without people hollering
at me,” Mr. Brown said in 2010. “I love being close to people.”

Mr. Brown also leaves behind a still-standing genre that, as he once
told MTV, embodied the highest of human emotions.

“It’s about love, the communication between performer and audience,”
Mr. Brown said of go-go. “When you’re on stage, the people put that
love to you and you give it back. There’s no other music like it.”




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