What do you think?
Rate this book
Kill 'Em and Leave: Searching for the Real James Brown
The definitive biography of the soul legend James Brown by National Book Award-winning novelist James McBride
The music of James Brown was almost a genre in its own right, and he was one of the biggest and most influential cultural figures of the twentieth century. But the singer known as the 'Hardest Working Man in Show Business' was also an immensely troubled, misunderstood and complicated man. Award-winning writer James McBride, himself a professional musician, has undertaken a journey of discovery in search of the 'real' James Brown, delving into the heartbreaking saga of Brown's childhood and destroyed estate, and uncovering the hidden history of Brown's early years.
But this book is more than the story of the larger-than-life soul genius. It is an acutely insightful account of the racism and Southern culture which both produced and destroyed James Brown, a portrait of the musicians who created the 'James Brown sound' yet were lost to history, a nuanced appreciation of what made Brown's music so special, and a series of conversations with the friends and protégés whose lives were changed by the 'Godfather of Soul'.
Vividly written and thoroughly researched, James McBride has crafted a deeply personal story of a man and a legend.
256 pages, Paperback
First published April 5, 2016
429 people are currently reading
4685 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 470 reviews
February 7, 2017
Kill ‘Em and Leave: Searching for James Brown and the American Soul by James McBride is a 2016 Spiegel & Grau publication.
I always liked James Brown. His music, his showmanship, and the way he often found himself stepping in to keep the peace, and his promotion of education.
While I know the same facts about James that anyone else knows, I’ve never read any books or watched any movies based on his life.
So, when this book was recommended to me, I was very eager to learn something more comprehensive about ‘The Godfather of Soul’
Musical biographies often walk on a fine line with too much of one thing, but not enough of another. It depends on the author as to which approach to take and while I was in the mood for a very detailed portrait of James Brown, the author took a different tack, but it was, in its way, kind of refreshing.
The author didn’t attempt to gloss over, sugarcoat, or make excuses for James’ darker side, revealing the performers crimes, his penchant for being difficult, his mistreatment of women, his numerous marriages, his drug use, and various other ways he was unpredictable or contradictory.
Yet, the author’s goal seemed to be focused on how James was remembered, the battles he won, the ones he lost, and the incredible mess his estate turned into once his will was discovered. We learn who James really trusted, who were the people closest to him and who stuck by him all his life, and this is as much their story as it is Brown's or McBride’s, in many ways.
The author also takes a look at the racial climate and atmosphere James was raised up in and the way this environment influenced him. This part of the book, I think, is supposed to help explain why James felt like he did, what shaped his attitude, and prompted him to act or react the way he did during his adult life.
But, the author’s spirit also penetrates the book, which under any other circumstance might be considered a biography faux pas, but in this case, it actually creates a dual look at James Brown. Not only do we get personal reflections from the people McBride interviewed, but we see the how the information seeps into the author’s soul, and the obvious effect writing this book must have had on him.
I wouldn’t say this approach is one everyone will appreciate and I don’t know if would work with any other subject or author, but I thought it was a nice touch and made the journey appear more personal.
Still, at the end of the day, I’m not sure if I really got that intimate portrait the author was going for. I do think I understand James Brown a little better, but his vital spirit or essence, just didn’t bleed through, despite the personal tones employed.
This was not exactly the type of biography I was hoping for, but was one that gave me deeper insight into the man behind the electric voice and performances that set the world on fire.
If you are an aficionado and already know all the facts about the man, his music, songs, and all the rest, then this is a book you will want to add, in order to get a deeper understanding of James’ roots.
If, like me, you are a fan, liked his music and enjoyed his amazing on stage presence and showmanship, but didn’t know a lot about him otherwise, this might not be the best book to give you that in depth look at his recordings, his political work, the inner workings of his relationships with wives and children, or a closer inspection of his addictions and events leading to his prison terms. However, once you have gained more than a basic knowledge about Brown, I think this personal assessment will take on deeper meaning.
Overall, this is a fresh approach to examining James Brown’s life and is an enjoyable journey, which has increased by my curiosity about the private performer. Thanks to McBride, I know which places I should perhaps avoid in my search for accurate information, which will be very helpful. I’m stalling just a bit here, not sure of how I want to rate this one. I keep waffling between a three and a four -star rating- so, for my personal record- 3.5 stars will have to suffice.
I always liked James Brown. His music, his showmanship, and the way he often found himself stepping in to keep the peace, and his promotion of education.
While I know the same facts about James that anyone else knows, I’ve never read any books or watched any movies based on his life.
So, when this book was recommended to me, I was very eager to learn something more comprehensive about ‘The Godfather of Soul’
Musical biographies often walk on a fine line with too much of one thing, but not enough of another. It depends on the author as to which approach to take and while I was in the mood for a very detailed portrait of James Brown, the author took a different tack, but it was, in its way, kind of refreshing.
The author didn’t attempt to gloss over, sugarcoat, or make excuses for James’ darker side, revealing the performers crimes, his penchant for being difficult, his mistreatment of women, his numerous marriages, his drug use, and various other ways he was unpredictable or contradictory.
Yet, the author’s goal seemed to be focused on how James was remembered, the battles he won, the ones he lost, and the incredible mess his estate turned into once his will was discovered. We learn who James really trusted, who were the people closest to him and who stuck by him all his life, and this is as much their story as it is Brown's or McBride’s, in many ways.
The author also takes a look at the racial climate and atmosphere James was raised up in and the way this environment influenced him. This part of the book, I think, is supposed to help explain why James felt like he did, what shaped his attitude, and prompted him to act or react the way he did during his adult life.
But, the author’s spirit also penetrates the book, which under any other circumstance might be considered a biography faux pas, but in this case, it actually creates a dual look at James Brown. Not only do we get personal reflections from the people McBride interviewed, but we see the how the information seeps into the author’s soul, and the obvious effect writing this book must have had on him.
I wouldn’t say this approach is one everyone will appreciate and I don’t know if would work with any other subject or author, but I thought it was a nice touch and made the journey appear more personal.
Still, at the end of the day, I’m not sure if I really got that intimate portrait the author was going for. I do think I understand James Brown a little better, but his vital spirit or essence, just didn’t bleed through, despite the personal tones employed.
This was not exactly the type of biography I was hoping for, but was one that gave me deeper insight into the man behind the electric voice and performances that set the world on fire.
If you are an aficionado and already know all the facts about the man, his music, songs, and all the rest, then this is a book you will want to add, in order to get a deeper understanding of James’ roots.
If, like me, you are a fan, liked his music and enjoyed his amazing on stage presence and showmanship, but didn’t know a lot about him otherwise, this might not be the best book to give you that in depth look at his recordings, his political work, the inner workings of his relationships with wives and children, or a closer inspection of his addictions and events leading to his prison terms. However, once you have gained more than a basic knowledge about Brown, I think this personal assessment will take on deeper meaning.
Overall, this is a fresh approach to examining James Brown’s life and is an enjoyable journey, which has increased by my curiosity about the private performer. Thanks to McBride, I know which places I should perhaps avoid in my search for accurate information, which will be very helpful. I’m stalling just a bit here, not sure of how I want to rate this one. I keep waffling between a three and a four -star rating- so, for my personal record- 3.5 stars will have to suffice.
December 17, 2022
"[Brown said to a lifelong friend] 'Don't let folks get too familiar. Don't stay in one place too long. Come important and leave important . . . Kill 'em and leave.' He did it for almost fifty years. James Brown was not common. James Brown was not easily found or discussed or discovered - by anyone. James Brown kept his distance. But his past he could not kill and leave." -- the author, on pages 32-33
Kill 'em and Leave is not (nor was it intended to be) a standard or straightforward celebrity biography of arguably the most famous and popular American soul singer of the 60's and 70's. Instead, it is a sociological contemplation on a number of U.S.-entrenched topics - poverty / wealth, race relations, good ol' boy political networks or strongholds, and tabloid journalism, to name a few - connected to the colorful but yet often troubled life of the late superstar James Brown, and I think this book largely succeeds in this offbeat but nimble approach. Author McBride - who is a triple-threat of experience / knowledge with his background as a professional musician, an entertainment journalist, AND a novelist - takes a mostly sympathetic but also realistic view, attempting to wade through the numerous myths and the misinformation to present a more practical portrait of a complicated and sometimes controversial man. I especially liked the comparisons, in some of the later chapters, of Brown and Michael Jackson - two hard-working, talented, and misunderstood performers (and they were also friends) who erected barriers between their unique personas and the public, likely in large part to avoid being hurt. The general narrative is also sometimes a sobering reminder that becoming or being 'rich and famous' frequently comes with its own assortment of distinct problems.
Kill 'em and Leave is not (nor was it intended to be) a standard or straightforward celebrity biography of arguably the most famous and popular American soul singer of the 60's and 70's. Instead, it is a sociological contemplation on a number of U.S.-entrenched topics - poverty / wealth, race relations, good ol' boy political networks or strongholds, and tabloid journalism, to name a few - connected to the colorful but yet often troubled life of the late superstar James Brown, and I think this book largely succeeds in this offbeat but nimble approach. Author McBride - who is a triple-threat of experience / knowledge with his background as a professional musician, an entertainment journalist, AND a novelist - takes a mostly sympathetic but also realistic view, attempting to wade through the numerous myths and the misinformation to present a more practical portrait of a complicated and sometimes controversial man. I especially liked the comparisons, in some of the later chapters, of Brown and Michael Jackson - two hard-working, talented, and misunderstood performers (and they were also friends) who erected barriers between their unique personas and the public, likely in large part to avoid being hurt. The general narrative is also sometimes a sobering reminder that becoming or being 'rich and famous' frequently comes with its own assortment of distinct problems.
July 23, 2017
It looks like McBride did his interviews for this book about music phenom James Brown in 2012, long before this book was published in 2016. In the Foreword McBride crankily reveals he was being taken to the cleaners in a divorce settlement and he needed to write this book—any book—to bring in a little money.
Any flaws this book contains then become perfectly understandable, and McBride keeps up that level of honesty and casual explanation all the way through. This is no stilted celebrity biography covering well-trod ground. This is down home and personal, comfortable conversations with the men (they were mostly men) and women who knew most about James Brown and his life.
At the end of his story, McBride highlights the 62-year-old grandmother journalist Sue Summer who, writing for the financially strapped Newberry Observer in South Carolina, has kept in the public eye the disgraceful carnage made of James Brown’s $100 million estate. Brown’s will stipulated the bulk of his estate should go to educate poor children in Georgia and South Carolina, the states where he grew up, but within days of his death on Christmas Day in 2006, his family had arrayed a bevy of lawyers to contest the will citing ‘undue influence.’
That ‘influence’ would have been the South Carolina lawyer David Cannon who had been hired by Brown to extricate him from IRS charges of underpayments. Cannon and Buddy Dallas, a Georgia lawyer, were white men who had never worked for a black boss before. They brought Brown back from destitution when his act suffered the toll performers experience when they age, and when the IRS realized they’d been robbed. They set up what they’d thought was an unbreakable trust serving poor children and then suffered personal attacks and rake-backs as the trust was contested.
James Brown played a role in McBride’s youth—in every young black man’s youth, is McBride’s contention—being a role model and human divinity of soul. His concerts and records made a difference in how the world turned. The 1960’s-70’s were the height of his popularity, but he made a mark that lasted to his death, and McBride argues, will long after. “Kill ‘em and leave,” Brown exhorted the younger men he mentored. Don’t hang around after a concert for folks to pick your carcass clean. Make ‘em wait.
McBride spins his story out slowly, the way he collected it, through innumerable interviews with band members and managers, friends, and family. He is conversational and not cruel when he tells us the plain facts of James Brown’s lonely upbringing, early incarceration, exceptional singing talent, and enormous drive. Brown never wanted to be hungry or lonely or dependent ever again, especially to the white man, who he feared.
There was a moment near the end of McBride’s story about Brown that widened out for me into a real down-home truth we all learn eventually: “there’s talent everywhere.”
Brown had determination. He wanted to present his best side to the world, so no one would have cause to put him down. After shows he would sit through 3 hours of treatment under the hair dryer to get his pompadour back in shape…and then he would leave without seeing the fans waiting for him. Kill ‘em and leave.
I loved the way McBride told this story, mixing a little of himself in there. He’d gone to Columbia Journalism School in 1980, so was undoubtedly aware that the reporter should scrupulously keep himself out of the story. But his ease with the scene and his knowledge of the backstory, his understanding of the silences between questions and his sense of the real meaning of James Brown gave us the mystery of the man and a deep sense of his place in pantheon of black culture. I loved hearing the familiar names, Rev Al Sharpton and Michael Jackson among them, and seeing how they fit in this picture.
It’s a comfortable, unstrained telling of a difficult life built on success. Race is everywhere in this book, though it is rarely mentioned. The fact of America’s race situation both made James Brown who he was as a performer, but it constrained him as a human being. McBride gives us that, shows us how that was. A book by McBride is cause for celebration, no matter that the editing was a little off, or he repeated sections. This is a story you won’t want to miss.
Any flaws this book contains then become perfectly understandable, and McBride keeps up that level of honesty and casual explanation all the way through. This is no stilted celebrity biography covering well-trod ground. This is down home and personal, comfortable conversations with the men (they were mostly men) and women who knew most about James Brown and his life.
At the end of his story, McBride highlights the 62-year-old grandmother journalist Sue Summer who, writing for the financially strapped Newberry Observer in South Carolina, has kept in the public eye the disgraceful carnage made of James Brown’s $100 million estate. Brown’s will stipulated the bulk of his estate should go to educate poor children in Georgia and South Carolina, the states where he grew up, but within days of his death on Christmas Day in 2006, his family had arrayed a bevy of lawyers to contest the will citing ‘undue influence.’
That ‘influence’ would have been the South Carolina lawyer David Cannon who had been hired by Brown to extricate him from IRS charges of underpayments. Cannon and Buddy Dallas, a Georgia lawyer, were white men who had never worked for a black boss before. They brought Brown back from destitution when his act suffered the toll performers experience when they age, and when the IRS realized they’d been robbed. They set up what they’d thought was an unbreakable trust serving poor children and then suffered personal attacks and rake-backs as the trust was contested.
James Brown played a role in McBride’s youth—in every young black man’s youth, is McBride’s contention—being a role model and human divinity of soul. His concerts and records made a difference in how the world turned. The 1960’s-70’s were the height of his popularity, but he made a mark that lasted to his death, and McBride argues, will long after. “Kill ‘em and leave,” Brown exhorted the younger men he mentored. Don’t hang around after a concert for folks to pick your carcass clean. Make ‘em wait.
McBride spins his story out slowly, the way he collected it, through innumerable interviews with band members and managers, friends, and family. He is conversational and not cruel when he tells us the plain facts of James Brown’s lonely upbringing, early incarceration, exceptional singing talent, and enormous drive. Brown never wanted to be hungry or lonely or dependent ever again, especially to the white man, who he feared.
There was a moment near the end of McBride’s story about Brown that widened out for me into a real down-home truth we all learn eventually: “there’s talent everywhere.”
“I remember having lunch years ago with a legendary record executive in L.A., bending his ear about a great unsigned singer I knew. The guy listened, nodded, yawned, reached for his triple-decker sandwich, and took a bite. ‘Great singers,’ he said between chews, ‘are a dime a dozen.’”That’s right. That’s right for every field. If they don’t have ‘em, they’ll make ‘em. But more importantly, and listen to this: those executives—they aren’t so special either. They do a job, but somehow we’ve allowed them to capture an unnatural percentage of the take. They have nothing without the talent and the rest of the organization, but you wouldn’t know it talking to them. But there is a truth in that it takes more than talent to be a great star, if that is where you are aiming. It takes more determination than talent.
Brown had determination. He wanted to present his best side to the world, so no one would have cause to put him down. After shows he would sit through 3 hours of treatment under the hair dryer to get his pompadour back in shape…and then he would leave without seeing the fans waiting for him. Kill ‘em and leave.
I loved the way McBride told this story, mixing a little of himself in there. He’d gone to Columbia Journalism School in 1980, so was undoubtedly aware that the reporter should scrupulously keep himself out of the story. But his ease with the scene and his knowledge of the backstory, his understanding of the silences between questions and his sense of the real meaning of James Brown gave us the mystery of the man and a deep sense of his place in pantheon of black culture. I loved hearing the familiar names, Rev Al Sharpton and Michael Jackson among them, and seeing how they fit in this picture.
It’s a comfortable, unstrained telling of a difficult life built on success. Race is everywhere in this book, though it is rarely mentioned. The fact of America’s race situation both made James Brown who he was as a performer, but it constrained him as a human being. McBride gives us that, shows us how that was. A book by McBride is cause for celebration, no matter that the editing was a little off, or he repeated sections. This is a story you won’t want to miss.
January 22, 2022
As far as biographies go, Kill em and Leave is a much smaller vantage that in my view is specifically about James Brown and his impact on his small circle of family and friends. What is strange is that I would not call it an intimate book, just a much smaller scope. Because of this, I think provides a broader view more nuanced history of the man but not necessarily his importance in the saga of America.
The phrase "Kill em and leave" appears to describe both his guiding principles and his pathos. James Brown's peak popularity was between the 60's through mid 70s. McBride tells the story through a series of interviews with various people who surrounded James Brown. Prominent among them was the Reverend Al Sharpton who grew up under the counsel of James Brown. The distilled compilation of Brown based on these interviews was that he was a man with what appears to be deep seated, systemic self-esteem issues associated with being a Black man from the South in relentless in pursuit of respect and adoration, without many opportunities. He was driven, clever and talented and who practiced a rather profound tenet of life. "Kill em and leave" was his way of saying give a dazzling performance and then get the heck out. "Come important and leave important.” James Brown said as if the longer he remained in view, the quicker his magic diminished. The portrait was of a man growing up mistrustful and insecure about his position and his power. Trusting no one, including his family, James Brown was both scoundrel and victim. He was a womanizer. He didn't believe in banks. Mistreated his band members and worse cheated them of writing credit and money. Had massive tax issues. He was a drug addict. He claimed he wanted his estate to go towards educating poor Black children in Georgia; however, he knew his fortune tied up in controversy and would be consumed in court and lawyer fees as his family and acquaintances contest his will. The people he had financial relationships with are also bankrupt with legal fees defending against accusations and claims in the wake of Brown's death. It was a tragic story of a talented, conflicted man.
What was left out for me was his impact on the world. During the 60s and 70s, James Brown had several anthems that I believe uplifted spirits and pride for Black people. For me as a young kid in the 70s, his song "Say it Loud, I'm Black and I'm Proud" was on continued repeat everywhere. It was obvious immediately who Eddie Murphy was portraying in a Saturday Night Live skits. He inspired dance moves for Michael Jackson. He is considered one of the originals in the musical genre of "funk" (though personally I think there is evidence to support the idea that he was a seed of hip hop with strong rap leanings…and no I do not listen to music of any kind enough to make such authoritative judgements). Though stylistically part of the music scene in the 70s, it feels like he was one of the original artists that made it necessary to have a horn section. Many of his musicians went off to success on their own. Who doesn't know "Maceo" on the sax? Not much of this was covered in the book which as I mentioned seemed to concentrate on his impact on the people around him rather than about the man himself and/or his contribution to the world. A very interesting read but also in my view, some missed opportunities.
4ish Stars
Listened to the audiobook. Dominick Hoffman was a good but not great narrator.
The phrase "Kill em and leave" appears to describe both his guiding principles and his pathos. James Brown's peak popularity was between the 60's through mid 70s. McBride tells the story through a series of interviews with various people who surrounded James Brown. Prominent among them was the Reverend Al Sharpton who grew up under the counsel of James Brown. The distilled compilation of Brown based on these interviews was that he was a man with what appears to be deep seated, systemic self-esteem issues associated with being a Black man from the South in relentless in pursuit of respect and adoration, without many opportunities. He was driven, clever and talented and who practiced a rather profound tenet of life. "Kill em and leave" was his way of saying give a dazzling performance and then get the heck out. "Come important and leave important.” James Brown said as if the longer he remained in view, the quicker his magic diminished. The portrait was of a man growing up mistrustful and insecure about his position and his power. Trusting no one, including his family, James Brown was both scoundrel and victim. He was a womanizer. He didn't believe in banks. Mistreated his band members and worse cheated them of writing credit and money. Had massive tax issues. He was a drug addict. He claimed he wanted his estate to go towards educating poor Black children in Georgia; however, he knew his fortune tied up in controversy and would be consumed in court and lawyer fees as his family and acquaintances contest his will. The people he had financial relationships with are also bankrupt with legal fees defending against accusations and claims in the wake of Brown's death. It was a tragic story of a talented, conflicted man.
What was left out for me was his impact on the world. During the 60s and 70s, James Brown had several anthems that I believe uplifted spirits and pride for Black people. For me as a young kid in the 70s, his song "Say it Loud, I'm Black and I'm Proud" was on continued repeat everywhere. It was obvious immediately who Eddie Murphy was portraying in a Saturday Night Live skits. He inspired dance moves for Michael Jackson. He is considered one of the originals in the musical genre of "funk" (though personally I think there is evidence to support the idea that he was a seed of hip hop with strong rap leanings…and no I do not listen to music of any kind enough to make such authoritative judgements). Though stylistically part of the music scene in the 70s, it feels like he was one of the original artists that made it necessary to have a horn section. Many of his musicians went off to success on their own. Who doesn't know "Maceo" on the sax? Not much of this was covered in the book which as I mentioned seemed to concentrate on his impact on the people around him rather than about the man himself and/or his contribution to the world. A very interesting read but also in my view, some missed opportunities.
4ish Stars
Listened to the audiobook. Dominick Hoffman was a good but not great narrator.
May 20, 2016
This book is not a balanced, unbiased, chronological account of James Brown’s life and musical career. It is, however, an impassioned, sometimes meandering defense of a music legend and his complicated legacy, which for my money makes it much more interesting than a straightforward biography.
James McBride clearly has a lot of love for James Brown, and I could appreciate his point of view without being entirely won over. McBride doesn’t go into much detail about some of Brown’s personal struggles, glossing over or excusing them in favor of extolling his showmanship and lamenting his misfortunes. I’m not quick to brush off things like domestic violence and rape accusations, so I remain skeptical as to Brown’s true level of virtue, but I can readily agree that he was a cultural icon, and often a misunderstood one.
I chose the audio version, and really enjoyed the narrator’s impression of Brown’s raspy Southern drawl. Since I’m not familiar with much of Brown’s music (which fact I intend to rectify), the narration made him more real to me.
Kill ‘Em and Leave is as much about McBride as it is about Brown, and that’s not a bad thing. I’m a big McBride fan, and I jump at every opportunity to talk about the time I saw him perform live with his band as part of The Good Lord Bird book tour. He’s a musician as much as he is a writer, and as such he’s the perfect person to tell Brown’s story. Or at least one very interesting side of it.
More book recommendations by me at www.readingwithhippos.com
James McBride clearly has a lot of love for James Brown, and I could appreciate his point of view without being entirely won over. McBride doesn’t go into much detail about some of Brown’s personal struggles, glossing over or excusing them in favor of extolling his showmanship and lamenting his misfortunes. I’m not quick to brush off things like domestic violence and rape accusations, so I remain skeptical as to Brown’s true level of virtue, but I can readily agree that he was a cultural icon, and often a misunderstood one.
I chose the audio version, and really enjoyed the narrator’s impression of Brown’s raspy Southern drawl. Since I’m not familiar with much of Brown’s music (which fact I intend to rectify), the narration made him more real to me.
Kill ‘Em and Leave is as much about McBride as it is about Brown, and that’s not a bad thing. I’m a big McBride fan, and I jump at every opportunity to talk about the time I saw him perform live with his band as part of The Good Lord Bird book tour. He’s a musician as much as he is a writer, and as such he’s the perfect person to tell Brown’s story. Or at least one very interesting side of it.
More book recommendations by me at www.readingwithhippos.com
March 20, 2016
First things first: James McBride wrote an excellent, excellent memoir called The Color of Water. Go read it.
Second, don't expect a traditional biography when you open Kill 'Em and Leave. Authors of biographies concern themselves with facts, typically in chronological order. That's not to say McBride isn't interested in the truth about James Brown; this book features input from many people involved in Brown's inner circle and some on the fringes: musicians, money men, friends and family. How McBride presents what truth he finds happens in a narrative that's personal and evokes an almost spiritual journey.
Explaining James Brown equates, one could argue, to trying to explain what Jesus actually looked like. Different versions of the Brown story/legend exist because, as we see in McBride's book, it's how Brown wanted it. For a man who enjoyed the spotlight, he craved the mystery and privacy just as much. The title of this book comes from advice Brown was fond of giving and sticking to: knock their socks off, and go. Kill 'em and leave. As McBride writes, "James Brown's status was there wasn't no A-list. He was the list." Watch any clip of him on YouTube and try to argue.
McBride's narrative reminded me in part of Citizen Kane and Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, in the respect that you have a person searching for story, looking for an answer (What was Rosebud? Who was the real James Brown?) and in the process you come across a variety of people whose interpretations not only magnify the legacy of the subject, but make them people you want to know better. McBride talks to the last surviving member of The Flames, Brown's early group, his first wife Velma, the man who helped save Brown from the IRS, surrogate son Al Sharpton, and Miss Emma, a devoted friend for decades. Their stories are raw and engaging and bring pieces of Brown's life together like a puzzle we're amazed to see at the end. It's more than a story about one the great soul singers, it's a history of black music and a social commentary about how we treat people, and how we revere some after death...and how greed makes us blind to the need of others. The story of James Brown after his death - the multiple funerals, the fight over his estate, the midnight visit from Michael Jackson - would make one hell of a movie on it own.
This is a book that will stay with you. It's awesome. Just read it.
ARC received from NetGalley.
Second, don't expect a traditional biography when you open Kill 'Em and Leave. Authors of biographies concern themselves with facts, typically in chronological order. That's not to say McBride isn't interested in the truth about James Brown; this book features input from many people involved in Brown's inner circle and some on the fringes: musicians, money men, friends and family. How McBride presents what truth he finds happens in a narrative that's personal and evokes an almost spiritual journey.
Explaining James Brown equates, one could argue, to trying to explain what Jesus actually looked like. Different versions of the Brown story/legend exist because, as we see in McBride's book, it's how Brown wanted it. For a man who enjoyed the spotlight, he craved the mystery and privacy just as much. The title of this book comes from advice Brown was fond of giving and sticking to: knock their socks off, and go. Kill 'em and leave. As McBride writes, "James Brown's status was there wasn't no A-list. He was the list." Watch any clip of him on YouTube and try to argue.
McBride's narrative reminded me in part of Citizen Kane and Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, in the respect that you have a person searching for story, looking for an answer (What was Rosebud? Who was the real James Brown?) and in the process you come across a variety of people whose interpretations not only magnify the legacy of the subject, but make them people you want to know better. McBride talks to the last surviving member of The Flames, Brown's early group, his first wife Velma, the man who helped save Brown from the IRS, surrogate son Al Sharpton, and Miss Emma, a devoted friend for decades. Their stories are raw and engaging and bring pieces of Brown's life together like a puzzle we're amazed to see at the end. It's more than a story about one the great soul singers, it's a history of black music and a social commentary about how we treat people, and how we revere some after death...and how greed makes us blind to the need of others. The story of James Brown after his death - the multiple funerals, the fight over his estate, the midnight visit from Michael Jackson - would make one hell of a movie on it own.
This is a book that will stay with you. It's awesome. Just read it.
ARC received from NetGalley.
June 2, 2018
3.5 stars
See me talk about this briefly in my May wrap up: https://youtu.be/47JHKR_6JAs?t=11m30s
See me talk about this briefly in my May wrap up: https://youtu.be/47JHKR_6JAs?t=11m30s
February 18, 2016
National Book Award winner James McBride goes on a Citizen Kane-like search for the "real" James Brown and muses about race, identity, music, the north/south divide, and whether one can ever TRULY know someone. With interviews with distant cousins, ex-wives, life-long childhood best friends, former managers and accountants, and former band members, KILL 'EM AND LEAVE is a non-chronological journey into James Brown that bears a strong similarity to David and Joe Henry's FURIOUS COOL: RICHARD PRYOR AND THE WORLD THAT MADE HIM.
An utterly fascinating read.
An utterly fascinating read.
August 8, 2016
James Brown was an excellent performer. He was meticulous and methodical when it came to rehearsals. It sounds like he demanded much of his musicians, but didn't always pay them what was fair.
McBride speaks to people that were in Brown's inner circle, but these people don't always talk about Brown. So we never get a full picture of Brown as manager, friend, father. We don't get too much of a picture of him as the man on the stage, which is how Brown wanted it ("kill'em and leave").
I found the anecdotes about life on the road and the history of R&B interesting. But this isn't a long book and parts of it felt repetitive which made me think the source material was sparse.
McBride speaks to people that were in Brown's inner circle, but these people don't always talk about Brown. So we never get a full picture of Brown as manager, friend, father. We don't get too much of a picture of him as the man on the stage, which is how Brown wanted it ("kill'em and leave").
I found the anecdotes about life on the road and the history of R&B interesting. But this isn't a long book and parts of it felt repetitive which made me think the source material was sparse.
February 27, 2021
Frustrated that every James Brown book is more about the myth surrounding the legend instead of about the real James Brown, McBride set out to rectify that. Truth be told, I don't think he accomplished what he set out to do. He added more to the myth imo.
But anyway, I still enjoyed this book. McBride uses the life of James Brown to dissect social and political aspects of American life (race, the South, the legal system, etc). If you're going into this expecting a typical music biography (the hits, shows, tours, etc.), you won't get that here. Very good, albeit a little repetitive.
But anyway, I still enjoyed this book. McBride uses the life of James Brown to dissect social and political aspects of American life (race, the South, the legal system, etc). If you're going into this expecting a typical music biography (the hits, shows, tours, etc.), you won't get that here. Very good, albeit a little repetitive.
May 27, 2018
A very fitting title for this book. The author, James McBride had to make a trip to the American South to learn about one of the world's greatest entertainers from the people who actually knew him. Because of James Brown's philosophy of kill 'em and leave, I don't think the world ever got a chance to see the man outside of his genuis. So McBride tries to bring to us a more realistic view of the man, which ends up being a sad story.
I enjoyed the format and the story telling, this is not a typical biography of any sort. There aren't a bunch of dates or "important" names being thrown at you, but what you get are the people who actually meant something to the man.
I enjoyed the format and the story telling, this is not a typical biography of any sort. There aren't a bunch of dates or "important" names being thrown at you, but what you get are the people who actually meant something to the man.
January 16, 2016
FANTASTIC BOOK! Less a straight-line music biography of Mr. James Brown more of a thoughtful attempt at understanding some of the socio-cultural forces that shaped a complicated man. I just finished the book and I am about to read it again it is that good.
May 9, 2016
Frank Sinatra has a cold. And James Brown is dead.
James McBride wants to understand James Brown, as man and as a myth. He's unhappy with the biographical material that's out there. And so he goes on a search of his own, to the places where Brown was born, where he was raised, and where those who knew him now live--as far away from the South Carolina-Georgia border and the "chitlin circuit" as England (geographically) and to meetings with rock-ribbed white Republican men (culturally). This slim volume is the report on what he found.
McBride is a musician himself, which gives him one point of contact with with James Brown; he's black, which gives him another; he's a former writer for people magazine who covered Michael Jackson's 1984 "Victory Tour," which gives him a third; and, when this narrative starts out, he was going through marital upheaval and financial difficulties--a fourth.
As the book opens, McBride keeps each of these possible avenues of approach alive and electric. He tells of the sacred place Brown had in his family of the time--his sister actually meant the man who was important as a black icon. He was inventing a whole new genre of music--not from scratch, but from bits and pieces of what other people had done and were doing around him. McBride is given some sketchy lead to new sources about Brown, apparently unplumbed by previous writers.
Mostly, though, these resolve under the heading of least interesting of those contacts: writer for People magazine. The chapters tend to focus on a single person who was close, in some way, to Brown, and that person's ideas about what drove Brown. As told here, Brown was scarred by his poor youth, intent not to fall under the control of white men again, but though he could be disciplined in his work--to disciplined, alienating those who performed with him--he wasn't nearly so disciplined in his business dealings, literally hiding money under mattresses and rugs, which McBride attributes to his Depression-era upbringing and his need for control. His passion for women didn't help him, either. (The voices McBride corrals to tell Brown's story don't see drugs entering the picture until late in the story, in the 1980s.)
It is clear that McBride has his thumb on the scales. In itself, this isn't a problem: all biographer's do. But it's not clear how to factor in that extra weight: he's too coy, and the story too confined. McBride isn't happy with others who have written on Brown, but he only touches on a few, picayune details that are wrong, leaving these as unexplored metonyms for the whole. But as a novice to the field of JB studies, I am not sure how McBride thinks of himself as fitting, or what he is arguing against. He's clearly trying to salvage Brown's reputation.
But, again, this salvage operation feels to forced, too weighted. He gives free rein to those he interviews, but no standard by which the reader can judge them, except his own description of them as stalwart and true and religious. Voices that might be more critical are given no space here. The one chance is that of Brown's saxophonist Pee Wee Ellis, who demurs--which leads to McBride authoring the most critical chapter, one that takes on Brown's failures as bandleader.
The reader comes away with some basic information about Brown, but still not a firm feel of him as a man. He did some good things, wanted to help some people, but could be secretive, too, is about the depth of the analysis. McBride takes on Brown's musicianship here and there,but the metaphors he used to explain it--basketball versus baseball?-left me more confused. In general, though, McBride is a smooth stylist and the chapters, confined though they are, spool out well. There is way too much repetition for such a short book. (We here about the Michael Jackson tour no less than three times.)
McBride broaches the subjects of politics, but, by his own admission, cannot do them justice. This is most clear when he is discussing the connection between Al Sharpton and James Brown. The best part of the section is the interpersonal relations between the two men--indeed, the whole book is best on interpersonal relations because it is told in such intimate ways. The problem here is that James Brown is dead and so it is impossible to get the other side of the story: everything is told about Brown, very little by him. Reading this book, I couldn't help but think of Gay Talese's famous piece for Esquire "Frank Sinatra has a Cold": Sinatra refused to give an interview, so Talese followed him and wrote abotu what he saw, tried to limn the man from the outside, to define him, but never (completely) giving a sense of his character from the inside.
In addition to not doing justice to the politics surrounding Brown, McBride proves a poor guide to the history. His account of the Reconstruction is facile. He does not plumb the obvious and not-so-obvious connections between Brown and minstrelsy, though he makes clear that Brown was performing blackness. (He also obviously lived it; but the connection between the life and the performance goes unremarked.) The wider musical world is mentioned when he refers to Brown's early career, but once Brown breaks through, he is described by McBride as nonpareil. There is no Sly and the Family Stone, no George Clinton, no re-born Temptations plying the same waters.
From the beginning, it is clear that what motivates McBride more than anything else is a sense of injustice: James Brown is being remembered incorrectly, memorialized wrong, and he wants to rectify the situation, or at least call attention to it. And this motivation provides the red thread that connects the whole narrative, and the theme that is the book's strength. Since Brown's death, there has been a huge legal fight over his estate, most of which he left to the poor children of South Carolina. But Brown's heirs--born in wedlock and otherwise--have joined with friends, made alliances with the powerful in The Palmetto State, and have drained it away. What was once rumored to be more than 100 million dollars is likely now less than 5% of that.
It's a good a metaphor for contemporary American Society as anything else: a big pile of money, and everyone's backstabbing each other to get it, poor and rich alike. It's Survivor in the courts. It's the Charter School Movement angling to get its hooks into that big, juicy pie of public school moneys, Wall Street vulturing in on social security. McBride doesn't spare himself. He takes the job not because he thinks he's the best person to write on Brown--he has another author in mind--but because the source wants him, and he needs the dough. There's no civic life in America anymore, except get in on the hustle.
McBride makes that point a couple of other ways, too. He laments the plight of the artist in America, left to poverty or, if they make it, to have their income devoured by the many hangers-on. He worries over the decline of the fourth estate. Once, he thought, public-spirited newspapers might have been attracted to this story. They would have sent reporters to South Carolina, ferreted out the truth, and set matters right. Naive, perhaps, but it's hard to argue with his broader point.
Except that McBride does. There is, in fact, one prop left in American culture against filthy lucre. The word of God. He returns again and again to the religious affiliation of those he interviews; he examines the role of the church in the black community. Those who are strongest, he is trying to say, those who can stand against the temptations of Mammon are the ones who believe in God, in Jesus, in some variety of Christianity. It's ultimately a conservative claim, not especially nuanced, but there is a ring of (partial) truth to it.
And it is in this sense, finally, that McBride comes to American soul. He's not talking about the music anymore than Talese was writing about the plight of the crooner in the age of rock and roll. McBride is talking about a different kind of soul, one he's worried may not be as dead as James Brown but is on its way.
James Brown lived at the intersection of these two traditions. He was mercenary. "Kill 'em and leave," he told Al Sharpton. He entertained, earned his money, and moved on. But he grew up churched and had certain moral constraints within which he tried to live: be kind to family, help those in need, as long as they were trying to help themselves. And that's what makes him an interesting project for McBride--less because of the messiness and idiosyncrasies of an individual life, more because the battle in his soul reflected the broader war in American society.
James McBride wants to understand James Brown, as man and as a myth. He's unhappy with the biographical material that's out there. And so he goes on a search of his own, to the places where Brown was born, where he was raised, and where those who knew him now live--as far away from the South Carolina-Georgia border and the "chitlin circuit" as England (geographically) and to meetings with rock-ribbed white Republican men (culturally). This slim volume is the report on what he found.
McBride is a musician himself, which gives him one point of contact with with James Brown; he's black, which gives him another; he's a former writer for people magazine who covered Michael Jackson's 1984 "Victory Tour," which gives him a third; and, when this narrative starts out, he was going through marital upheaval and financial difficulties--a fourth.
As the book opens, McBride keeps each of these possible avenues of approach alive and electric. He tells of the sacred place Brown had in his family of the time--his sister actually meant the man who was important as a black icon. He was inventing a whole new genre of music--not from scratch, but from bits and pieces of what other people had done and were doing around him. McBride is given some sketchy lead to new sources about Brown, apparently unplumbed by previous writers.
Mostly, though, these resolve under the heading of least interesting of those contacts: writer for People magazine. The chapters tend to focus on a single person who was close, in some way, to Brown, and that person's ideas about what drove Brown. As told here, Brown was scarred by his poor youth, intent not to fall under the control of white men again, but though he could be disciplined in his work--to disciplined, alienating those who performed with him--he wasn't nearly so disciplined in his business dealings, literally hiding money under mattresses and rugs, which McBride attributes to his Depression-era upbringing and his need for control. His passion for women didn't help him, either. (The voices McBride corrals to tell Brown's story don't see drugs entering the picture until late in the story, in the 1980s.)
It is clear that McBride has his thumb on the scales. In itself, this isn't a problem: all biographer's do. But it's not clear how to factor in that extra weight: he's too coy, and the story too confined. McBride isn't happy with others who have written on Brown, but he only touches on a few, picayune details that are wrong, leaving these as unexplored metonyms for the whole. But as a novice to the field of JB studies, I am not sure how McBride thinks of himself as fitting, or what he is arguing against. He's clearly trying to salvage Brown's reputation.
But, again, this salvage operation feels to forced, too weighted. He gives free rein to those he interviews, but no standard by which the reader can judge them, except his own description of them as stalwart and true and religious. Voices that might be more critical are given no space here. The one chance is that of Brown's saxophonist Pee Wee Ellis, who demurs--which leads to McBride authoring the most critical chapter, one that takes on Brown's failures as bandleader.
The reader comes away with some basic information about Brown, but still not a firm feel of him as a man. He did some good things, wanted to help some people, but could be secretive, too, is about the depth of the analysis. McBride takes on Brown's musicianship here and there,but the metaphors he used to explain it--basketball versus baseball?-left me more confused. In general, though, McBride is a smooth stylist and the chapters, confined though they are, spool out well. There is way too much repetition for such a short book. (We here about the Michael Jackson tour no less than three times.)
McBride broaches the subjects of politics, but, by his own admission, cannot do them justice. This is most clear when he is discussing the connection between Al Sharpton and James Brown. The best part of the section is the interpersonal relations between the two men--indeed, the whole book is best on interpersonal relations because it is told in such intimate ways. The problem here is that James Brown is dead and so it is impossible to get the other side of the story: everything is told about Brown, very little by him. Reading this book, I couldn't help but think of Gay Talese's famous piece for Esquire "Frank Sinatra has a Cold": Sinatra refused to give an interview, so Talese followed him and wrote abotu what he saw, tried to limn the man from the outside, to define him, but never (completely) giving a sense of his character from the inside.
In addition to not doing justice to the politics surrounding Brown, McBride proves a poor guide to the history. His account of the Reconstruction is facile. He does not plumb the obvious and not-so-obvious connections between Brown and minstrelsy, though he makes clear that Brown was performing blackness. (He also obviously lived it; but the connection between the life and the performance goes unremarked.) The wider musical world is mentioned when he refers to Brown's early career, but once Brown breaks through, he is described by McBride as nonpareil. There is no Sly and the Family Stone, no George Clinton, no re-born Temptations plying the same waters.
From the beginning, it is clear that what motivates McBride more than anything else is a sense of injustice: James Brown is being remembered incorrectly, memorialized wrong, and he wants to rectify the situation, or at least call attention to it. And this motivation provides the red thread that connects the whole narrative, and the theme that is the book's strength. Since Brown's death, there has been a huge legal fight over his estate, most of which he left to the poor children of South Carolina. But Brown's heirs--born in wedlock and otherwise--have joined with friends, made alliances with the powerful in The Palmetto State, and have drained it away. What was once rumored to be more than 100 million dollars is likely now less than 5% of that.
It's a good a metaphor for contemporary American Society as anything else: a big pile of money, and everyone's backstabbing each other to get it, poor and rich alike. It's Survivor in the courts. It's the Charter School Movement angling to get its hooks into that big, juicy pie of public school moneys, Wall Street vulturing in on social security. McBride doesn't spare himself. He takes the job not because he thinks he's the best person to write on Brown--he has another author in mind--but because the source wants him, and he needs the dough. There's no civic life in America anymore, except get in on the hustle.
McBride makes that point a couple of other ways, too. He laments the plight of the artist in America, left to poverty or, if they make it, to have their income devoured by the many hangers-on. He worries over the decline of the fourth estate. Once, he thought, public-spirited newspapers might have been attracted to this story. They would have sent reporters to South Carolina, ferreted out the truth, and set matters right. Naive, perhaps, but it's hard to argue with his broader point.
Except that McBride does. There is, in fact, one prop left in American culture against filthy lucre. The word of God. He returns again and again to the religious affiliation of those he interviews; he examines the role of the church in the black community. Those who are strongest, he is trying to say, those who can stand against the temptations of Mammon are the ones who believe in God, in Jesus, in some variety of Christianity. It's ultimately a conservative claim, not especially nuanced, but there is a ring of (partial) truth to it.
And it is in this sense, finally, that McBride comes to American soul. He's not talking about the music anymore than Talese was writing about the plight of the crooner in the age of rock and roll. McBride is talking about a different kind of soul, one he's worried may not be as dead as James Brown but is on its way.
James Brown lived at the intersection of these two traditions. He was mercenary. "Kill 'em and leave," he told Al Sharpton. He entertained, earned his money, and moved on. But he grew up churched and had certain moral constraints within which he tried to live: be kind to family, help those in need, as long as they were trying to help themselves. And that's what makes him an interesting project for McBride--less because of the messiness and idiosyncrasies of an individual life, more because the battle in his soul reflected the broader war in American society.
October 27, 2017
Super fascinating, could, possibly, have been a longform essay...
January 5, 2017
This is not a standard music biography. It is not a write-up of concert performances, recording dates, and musical analysis of songs. For the most part it is a series of interviews of those who knew James Brown. And as per the author and many in his life, James Brown was an enigma.
He was a man who rarely opened himself up to those surrounding him – particularly his band members. He was a hard taskmaster (a possible understatement); he would fine his band members if they made a mistake, if their shoes were not shined... He went through over 200 band members during his long famous career. In some of the interviews the band members are rather reticent on speaking about their former boss – even so we do get a feel for the aura surrounding him. One must not forget his background of growing up in the Southern U.S. in the 1930’s. Wearing a mask in front of the white man was an essential part of survival. Brown compartmentalized his life. His children had to make appointments to see him.
His music and his on-stage performances were everything to him – and he changed the sound, the look and the moves of American music. This book is well-written and definitely entertaining. One gets a view of Southern life and of a very competitive man. A man who backed down from no one.
I did feel there were some things missing. Bobby Byrd is hardly mentioned. Only one of his wives is discussed. There is little said about the touring – except that he was always on the road. I would have liked to know more of James Brown’s experiences while touring outside the United States, like in Europe. But the topics presented are given a vivid background and there is a zest throughout. Like James Brown the book is funky, with soul!
As I was reading I could not help comparing James Brown with Louis Armstrong. Arguably, these are the two who most changed the feel of American music (Yes I know there was an Elvis, but he didn’t have the longevity of either of these men).
Louis Armstrong and James Brown both put their art and performances above all else. Both were from the South and had vicious racist obstacles to overcome. Both overcame extreme poverty. Both were very driven and did not tolerate laziness. Neither were good business managers (Armstrong relegated this later in his career to Joe Glaser). They saw themselves first and foremost as entertainers. And both had a world-wide audience from all walks of life. Their music broke down barriers and set precedents for upcoming performers.
And as an additional note the documentary “Mr. Dynamite: The Rise of James Brown” is excellent.
Here’s one James Brown performance from YouTube (a little blurry)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ROzG...
He was a man who rarely opened himself up to those surrounding him – particularly his band members. He was a hard taskmaster (a possible understatement); he would fine his band members if they made a mistake, if their shoes were not shined... He went through over 200 band members during his long famous career. In some of the interviews the band members are rather reticent on speaking about their former boss – even so we do get a feel for the aura surrounding him. One must not forget his background of growing up in the Southern U.S. in the 1930’s. Wearing a mask in front of the white man was an essential part of survival. Brown compartmentalized his life. His children had to make appointments to see him.
His music and his on-stage performances were everything to him – and he changed the sound, the look and the moves of American music. This book is well-written and definitely entertaining. One gets a view of Southern life and of a very competitive man. A man who backed down from no one.
I did feel there were some things missing. Bobby Byrd is hardly mentioned. Only one of his wives is discussed. There is little said about the touring – except that he was always on the road. I would have liked to know more of James Brown’s experiences while touring outside the United States, like in Europe. But the topics presented are given a vivid background and there is a zest throughout. Like James Brown the book is funky, with soul!
As I was reading I could not help comparing James Brown with Louis Armstrong. Arguably, these are the two who most changed the feel of American music (Yes I know there was an Elvis, but he didn’t have the longevity of either of these men).
Louis Armstrong and James Brown both put their art and performances above all else. Both were from the South and had vicious racist obstacles to overcome. Both overcame extreme poverty. Both were very driven and did not tolerate laziness. Neither were good business managers (Armstrong relegated this later in his career to Joe Glaser). They saw themselves first and foremost as entertainers. And both had a world-wide audience from all walks of life. Their music broke down barriers and set precedents for upcoming performers.
And as an additional note the documentary “Mr. Dynamite: The Rise of James Brown” is excellent.
Here’s one James Brown performance from YouTube (a little blurry)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ROzG...
May 30, 2018
This is an excellent book, which takes the life and career of James Brown as a vehicle for discussing important issues about America and our lives, including race, music, the legal system (and race), the financial/business aspect of music, death, historic changes in the American south, and race. Yes, race underlies everything in this book, but that is perhaps as it should be in a book about someone who wrote “Soul Power” and “Say it Loud, I’m Black and I’m Proud!”
The book is NOT a blow-by-blow account of Brown’s life and career. McBride talks about Brown’s career, the people who helped make it possible, their interactions with their extremely difficult boss, how much it paid, and how it was paid for. But there’s no list of top-10 hits nor year-by-year story of concerts, records, and awards. Instead, McBride tries to get to the essence of Brown as a person and figure, finding many dark corners, which he does his best to illuminate. I feel that I learned a lot more from this than I would have than if I had been told how many weeks “I Feel Good” was on the charts.
Surprisingly, a huge chunk of the book is devoted to Brown’s death and the subsequent legal battles involving his will. Brown left almost his entire estate to help the poor children of Georgia and South Carolina. Battling relatives and hangers-on have prevented that from taking place, a final insult to someone who himself did not finish school but constantly instructed his fans to get an education. In McBride’s view, the scandal over his will is merely a continuation of the problems he faced in his life.
The book is not perfect. There is a bit of repetition that should have been edited out. I don’t always agree with the author on issues of “theft” of musical ideas. Once you record something, it’s out there, and you can’t keep it bottled up so that people will only hear it in your own records or concerts. That is true in every area of the arts as well as in academia and business. That said, it is clearly true that black popular musicians made a lot less money off their innovations than many white imitators made, and that is part of the story of American music.
Although my review may sound dreary, the book is not. The author is angry or sad in various places, but the text keeps you moving along, and McBride has a sharp eye for character and place. Indeed, he is a National Book Award-winning writer, but it is just as important that he has been a musician, and he appreciates Brown as a fellow musician should.
The book is NOT a blow-by-blow account of Brown’s life and career. McBride talks about Brown’s career, the people who helped make it possible, their interactions with their extremely difficult boss, how much it paid, and how it was paid for. But there’s no list of top-10 hits nor year-by-year story of concerts, records, and awards. Instead, McBride tries to get to the essence of Brown as a person and figure, finding many dark corners, which he does his best to illuminate. I feel that I learned a lot more from this than I would have than if I had been told how many weeks “I Feel Good” was on the charts.
Surprisingly, a huge chunk of the book is devoted to Brown’s death and the subsequent legal battles involving his will. Brown left almost his entire estate to help the poor children of Georgia and South Carolina. Battling relatives and hangers-on have prevented that from taking place, a final insult to someone who himself did not finish school but constantly instructed his fans to get an education. In McBride’s view, the scandal over his will is merely a continuation of the problems he faced in his life.
The book is not perfect. There is a bit of repetition that should have been edited out. I don’t always agree with the author on issues of “theft” of musical ideas. Once you record something, it’s out there, and you can’t keep it bottled up so that people will only hear it in your own records or concerts. That is true in every area of the arts as well as in academia and business. That said, it is clearly true that black popular musicians made a lot less money off their innovations than many white imitators made, and that is part of the story of American music.
Although my review may sound dreary, the book is not. The author is angry or sad in various places, but the text keeps you moving along, and McBride has a sharp eye for character and place. Indeed, he is a National Book Award-winning writer, but it is just as important that he has been a musician, and he appreciates Brown as a fellow musician should.
July 4, 2018
Music is the art form that permeates our lives and times like no other. No novelist, no painter, no film-maker manages to become such a part of our lives, our environment, as our musicians do.
James McBride’s “Kill ‘Em and Leave”, an impressionistic investigation of James Brown, if nothing else demonstrates how thankless it is to be one of these musicians, even one that helped define the time he lived in and was as important, if not more, than any leading political figure that made the news every night.
Music is an unforgiving business, even for a superstar like James Brown, and McBride tells the tales of cash payments in greasy paper bags (making the astute observation that no other business, other than the narcotics business, is conducted on such a cash-only basis). He also relates his own experiences in becoming a musician – the grinding practice of learning his instrument, the high of getting with a touring band only to find out how hard it is to get paid. Talent, to the people that run the business, is something commonplace. “Great singers are a dime a dozen,” one promoter says.
Brown is shown to be a man that is careful to maintain his aura, his status as the Godfather of Soul. He hides himself in his suite, refusing to mingle with other performers who, when booked at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas, are participating in the games down below. “Ain’t nobody going to see James Brown till it’s time to hit. Everybody else down there, they’re being common.” Hence the title: “Kill ‘Em and Leave,” a practice Brown was scrupulous in maintaining.
“He was a man who could, and did, blow off meeting the Rolling Stones, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and, if he wasn’t in a mood to meet them, dignitaries of all stripes, high and low,” McBride writes. “What was the point, Brown said, trying to play big. Just BE big.” Brown was just as uncompromising (and stingy with money) with his own musicians, demanding perfection to the point of abuse, and McBride relates a number of revealing stories from his band members, most notably saxophonist Pee Wee Ellis, Brown’s music director during his boom years in the ‘60s, whom McBride finds living in the small English town of Frome.
“Let’s talk about James Brown,” I say.
“Can’t we talk about something else?” he asks.
One of the saddest tales in this book is the story of David Cannon, an accountant that Brown hired in the ‘80s to get him out of his ruinous tax problems. The legal morass that ensued after Brown’s death on Christmas day of 2006, nearly wrecked Cannon’s life (who ended up spending time in jail). McBride’s book also serves as a cautionary tale about the legal system in the United States. Brown stipulated in his will, which he spent $20,000 on to make it airtight, uncontestable, that he wanted his money to go to educating poor youth near where he lived in South Carolina and Georgia. Not one dollar has yet to make it to any poor child as his estate has been dissipated by continually mounting legal costs as family members and others fight over Brown’s money. In the telling of Cannon’s story, McBride demonstrates the dangers of being on the losing side in the halls of justice.
The book also offers the moving story of how Brown basically adopted a child-preacher from New York, the Rev. Al Sharpton, who spent some two decades with Brown. “I remember times he would play in the South and kids would ride up to the airport just to look at his jet. . . . You’ve got to remember, you’re talking about times when we wasn’t three years, four years into voting, and this man’s flying into little towns in Alabama and Georgia in a private jet, owning radio stations.” McBride’s story of Sharpton the debacle of getting Brown’s body up to the Apollo in New York and back down to Augusta for the memorial services is memorable, as is his account of Michael Jackson’s visit to the funeral chapel in Georgia to pay his final respects.
A melancholy book, McBride notes how Brown and his old friends in Georgia bemoan the decline of his home city of Augusta and the basic deterioration of American culture, McBride making the astute observation that “the media is not a reflection of the American culture but rather is teaching it.”
A New Yorker, McBride lived not far from the house in Queens where James Brown lived in the ‘60s. He was in awe of Brown and the kids in his neighborhood would thrill at even a brief sighting. One day, as McBride writes, his sister Dotty and a friend bravely mounted the porch and knocked on Brown’s door. Upon greeting his visitors, his message to her was “Stay in school, Dotty. Don’t be no fool!”
Brown moved back to his native South, never completely trusting northerners, fearing that somehow the white man would find a way to take his money – which in the end they do. His fear of returning to poverty was shared by another son of the South, Elvis Presley, who made very different decisions in his own troubled life. (Nobody told James Brown what to do, which is something that cannot be said about Presley).
“He was more southerner than he was black or white, more sensitive artist than superstar,” McBride concludes in this very satisfying portrait of one of the most significant artists in American history.
August 3, 2016
A long time ago I read Dave Marsh's more linear biography of James Brown. This meanders more like the movie Citizen Kane in that McBride revisits Brown's old haunts, former band members, managers and other acquaintances (including Al Sharpton who I had no idea was almost like Brown's adopted son) in an attempt to piece together the real man. It also acts as social commentary on the South, racism, corporate greed and the breakdown of society in general.
The portrait that emerges of Brown is a gifted artist, who, not only became wealthy, but was one of the leading spokespeople for black America from 1965 and 1975; he truly was sought out by Presidents and other heads of state to win over the black vote (like when he was asked to quell riots in Boston after Martin Luther King was assassinated). But it all ended suddenly when Disco became popular and Brown was viewed as an "oldies" act. McBride, a jazz musician and industry insider, has a particularly engaging "Gonzo" style of writing suited to describing the seedy side of the music business where "payola" was to be delivered in an innocuous looking "grease-stained" lunch bag and where, on one occasion, the Mafia threatened to release rats in a theater if Brown did not accede to their demands for payment.
Brown, who was not a great businessman, did not trust banks and kept records in his head of the hundreds of thousands of dollars he had hidden in cash in secret hiding places; either at home, the office or in the floorboards of his many automobiles. When he died suddenly, those who managed his money (and got him clear of his huge tax mess) were later suspected of embezzlement by family members angry about being left out of the will. David Cannon, who kept $300,000 of Brown's money in his home safe against his better judgement, actually did time in jail and was financially ruined. He was exonerated too late.
Like Charles Foster Kane -- James Brown ended up a lonely old man, isolated in a stately home, with a media circus surrounding his death. Brown left the bulk of his $200-million dollar estate in a trust that would be used to educate poor children in his hometown (in a school district that cannot even afford pencils). That's not where it went as lawyers are still the only ones who have seen any money from it in the ten years since Brown's death.
The portrait that emerges of Brown is a gifted artist, who, not only became wealthy, but was one of the leading spokespeople for black America from 1965 and 1975; he truly was sought out by Presidents and other heads of state to win over the black vote (like when he was asked to quell riots in Boston after Martin Luther King was assassinated). But it all ended suddenly when Disco became popular and Brown was viewed as an "oldies" act. McBride, a jazz musician and industry insider, has a particularly engaging "Gonzo" style of writing suited to describing the seedy side of the music business where "payola" was to be delivered in an innocuous looking "grease-stained" lunch bag and where, on one occasion, the Mafia threatened to release rats in a theater if Brown did not accede to their demands for payment.
Brown, who was not a great businessman, did not trust banks and kept records in his head of the hundreds of thousands of dollars he had hidden in cash in secret hiding places; either at home, the office or in the floorboards of his many automobiles. When he died suddenly, those who managed his money (and got him clear of his huge tax mess) were later suspected of embezzlement by family members angry about being left out of the will. David Cannon, who kept $300,000 of Brown's money in his home safe against his better judgement, actually did time in jail and was financially ruined. He was exonerated too late.
Like Charles Foster Kane -- James Brown ended up a lonely old man, isolated in a stately home, with a media circus surrounding his death. Brown left the bulk of his $200-million dollar estate in a trust that would be used to educate poor children in his hometown (in a school district that cannot even afford pencils). That's not where it went as lawyers are still the only ones who have seen any money from it in the ten years since Brown's death.
January 24, 2023
James McBride has become one of my favorite authors during this COVID era, when reading became an even more important way to see, visit, taste, and appreciate people and places. If you have read Deacon King Kong or other McBride novels, Kill'em and Leave is very different, but no less beautifully crafted, insightful, and subtly instructive.
I grew up in New England in the 50s and 60s. I was 15 when the Beatles came to the US in 1964 ... and, except for wanting to know the mysterious reasons why girls my age were swooning, I didn't much care. After all, at that time, to me, if there weren't horns and dancing, it was hard to recognize them as a band. Bands came from Philadelphia, Detroit, New York.
When I left for college in 1966, James Brown was "Mr. Dynamite." I was probably singing "Papa's Got A Brand New Bag" as I carried my stuff into my freshman dorm room. Beatles? Meh.
Of course, through college, I "got into" the Beatles a bit, even though James Taylor, Joni Mitchell, Paul Simon, and others inspired my own attempts at guitar. Jimi Hendrix, Carlos Santana, Eric Clapton, and others blew me away with their electric guitars. All sorts of blues most consistently attracted, inspired, and amazed. James Brown brought it ALL; lyrics, THUMP, singing and singers, dance, PARTY! Gi'me the ONE!
This is not a boring bio. It is more of a summary appreciation of a great talent, a flawed genius, a giving heart, a victim of circumstance, a survivor, and an inspiration. Read it in a quiet room, THEN, close the door. After James McBride helps you appreciate more fully The Godfather of Soul, put on "I Got The Feelin'" and TURN IT UP!!!
I grew up in New England in the 50s and 60s. I was 15 when the Beatles came to the US in 1964 ... and, except for wanting to know the mysterious reasons why girls my age were swooning, I didn't much care. After all, at that time, to me, if there weren't horns and dancing, it was hard to recognize them as a band. Bands came from Philadelphia, Detroit, New York.
When I left for college in 1966, James Brown was "Mr. Dynamite." I was probably singing "Papa's Got A Brand New Bag" as I carried my stuff into my freshman dorm room. Beatles? Meh.
Of course, through college, I "got into" the Beatles a bit, even though James Taylor, Joni Mitchell, Paul Simon, and others inspired my own attempts at guitar. Jimi Hendrix, Carlos Santana, Eric Clapton, and others blew me away with their electric guitars. All sorts of blues most consistently attracted, inspired, and amazed. James Brown brought it ALL; lyrics, THUMP, singing and singers, dance, PARTY! Gi'me the ONE!
This is not a boring bio. It is more of a summary appreciation of a great talent, a flawed genius, a giving heart, a victim of circumstance, a survivor, and an inspiration. Read it in a quiet room, THEN, close the door. After James McBride helps you appreciate more fully The Godfather of Soul, put on "I Got The Feelin'" and TURN IT UP!!!
July 19, 2021
I was tempted to give this 4 stars on account of the skimming over Brown’s repeated history of domestic abuse, but honestly, I think that would have been pretty ungenerous to what is otherwise one of the most complex and layered music biographies I’ve read. I didn’t know a great deal about James Brown before starting this, and it was enlightening to read how his personal story reflects wider attitudes to race in America over the years. I did a lot of Googling and wider reading around the peripheral names and events mentioned, which is a good sign of how much I got out of this. Loved McBride’s writing and how he illustrates the importance of James Brown to his own life without inserting himself too heavily into the narrative. Personally, I kept recalling old stories about Mark E. Smith while reading this - one of my own cultural touchstones - I can see why I’ve seen him called the post-punk James Brown before.
April 18, 2021
A man many loved but few knew. The life of James Brown is hard, sad, and crazy....all piled into one. We love his music but judge him harshly when he did something bad. The author tried to show the intricate life of James Brown and to me, he did a wonderful job. He took us through his childhood and what he endured ( which played a heavy role in his life), his teenage years when he was sent to reform school, and the highs and lows of his adult life. We see the star but this book allows us to see the man.
March 2, 2020
Terrible book, great book club discussion. Author inserts entirely too much of himself and his biased opinions (presented as fact). While a discussion of African Americans' contribution to the history of music and any effort to whitewash and/or theft of same is important and necessary, the author becomes too much of an apologist for me. While some black men may be the subject of efforts to tear them down, Mr. McBride's choice to paint James Brown (and Michael Jackson) with that brush is misguided and wrong. Words matter: his choice to continually say James Brown's third wife "had him arrested" and his phrase that "sleeping with one bozo can tear you down" is offensive and wholly inaccurate. It took multiple "bozos" to bring down Cosby, Jackson, et al. and I was under the impression that James Brown's horrific abuse of women was widely known, that phrasing is some next-level victim blaming. Incredibly sad that his estate is still being dragged out by people with their hands out - the fact that he wanted it go to children in need was honorable and deserved to be fulfilled.
March 18, 2017
Disliked intensely.
McBride spends a lot of time talking about how no one has written a "real" book about James Brown, that biographers spend too much time depending upon the myth of Brown instead of finding facts. Then he does the exact same thing. No sources cited outside of interviews, McBride, to my mind, really doesn't back up any of the claims he makes about Brown's life. For someone who complains about inaccurate record-keeping, this seems like a sin to me.
His use of metaphor and simile was so hyperbolic that it really ruined the book for me. His comparisons range from cliche to absurd, without ever being effective.
I think I understand what McBride was aiming for -- I just think he missed the mark horribly. Forgettable at best. At worst, it adds to the wall of myth that it claims to deconstruct.
McBride spends a lot of time talking about how no one has written a "real" book about James Brown, that biographers spend too much time depending upon the myth of Brown instead of finding facts. Then he does the exact same thing. No sources cited outside of interviews, McBride, to my mind, really doesn't back up any of the claims he makes about Brown's life. For someone who complains about inaccurate record-keeping, this seems like a sin to me.
His use of metaphor and simile was so hyperbolic that it really ruined the book for me. His comparisons range from cliche to absurd, without ever being effective.
I think I understand what McBride was aiming for -- I just think he missed the mark horribly. Forgettable at best. At worst, it adds to the wall of myth that it claims to deconstruct.
April 21, 2016
This book is about James Brown but transcends into larger societal topics: race, class, African American culture, the South, and the U.S. It's an often sad story but an absolute joy to read. Highly recommended!
May 14, 2024
I really enjoyed this book. When talking about artists whose careers spanned decades and who had as much influence on music and culture as James Brown did, you could probably spend years writing out the minutiae of his life. But to hear first hand accounts of who the artist was, without glossing over the ugly or dark parts, that feels more human.
I think McBride did a wonderful job at telling the story of what made James Brown who he was. He didn’t ignore the context of the America that James was brought up in, the racism that was prevalent in the music industry, or the difficult person that resulted from those conditions. This approach to writing felt really honest, and is a testament to McBride’s ability to weave many narratives together to tell a fulsome story. I really appreciated the chance to hear personal accounts from those who were close to James at different points in his lifetime, which really hammered home the fact that personalities and identities are complex and ever changing, and that the contexts in which we show up in can bring out the many different versions of ourselves that exist within us.
Now it’s time to go spin my Live at the Apollo vinyl with a deeper appreciation and curiousity for the Godfather of Soul.
I think McBride did a wonderful job at telling the story of what made James Brown who he was. He didn’t ignore the context of the America that James was brought up in, the racism that was prevalent in the music industry, or the difficult person that resulted from those conditions. This approach to writing felt really honest, and is a testament to McBride’s ability to weave many narratives together to tell a fulsome story. I really appreciated the chance to hear personal accounts from those who were close to James at different points in his lifetime, which really hammered home the fact that personalities and identities are complex and ever changing, and that the contexts in which we show up in can bring out the many different versions of ourselves that exist within us.
Now it’s time to go spin my Live at the Apollo vinyl with a deeper appreciation and curiousity for the Godfather of Soul.
March 31, 2016
Advanced Reading Copy review Due to be published April 5, 2016
I may be one of the few people who never read "The Color of Water" or any other of James McBride's books but I may have to re-consider after reading "Kill 'Em and Leave". This book is not just another biography of James Brown, but it is an exploration of Brown's influences and his legacy. From Rev. Al Sharpton to Michael Jackson and many others who came into James Brown's sphere of influence, we get to really understand what a lasting impression the Godfather of Soul left on music, society and politics.
One of the main points of the book seems to be drawing attention to the tragedy that is unraveling in regards to James Brown's will. He thought he had created an airtight legal document that would leave most of his millions to educating poor children in the South. Unfortunately the vultures descended as soon as the word was out that Brown had died and the will has been tied up in court and the money siphoned off to lawyers ever since. It is but one example of many in this book where the creative genius benefits everyone more than himself and why Brown did not trust or get close to many people. There are many uplifting moments but in the end this book will give pause to anyone thinking about making a career of being a musician.
Highly recommended.
I may be one of the few people who never read "The Color of Water" or any other of James McBride's books but I may have to re-consider after reading "Kill 'Em and Leave". This book is not just another biography of James Brown, but it is an exploration of Brown's influences and his legacy. From Rev. Al Sharpton to Michael Jackson and many others who came into James Brown's sphere of influence, we get to really understand what a lasting impression the Godfather of Soul left on music, society and politics.
One of the main points of the book seems to be drawing attention to the tragedy that is unraveling in regards to James Brown's will. He thought he had created an airtight legal document that would leave most of his millions to educating poor children in the South. Unfortunately the vultures descended as soon as the word was out that Brown had died and the will has been tied up in court and the money siphoned off to lawyers ever since. It is but one example of many in this book where the creative genius benefits everyone more than himself and why Brown did not trust or get close to many people. There are many uplifting moments but in the end this book will give pause to anyone thinking about making a career of being a musician.
Highly recommended.
June 2, 2017
This week I finished "Kill 'Em and Leave: Searching for James Brown and the American Soul" by James McBride. It's an extremely interesting book that is somewhat about James Brown, but more often is a thoughtful look into the environment in which James Brown resided. It's a good window into the music world, race relations, life in the American south, legal disputes, and good intentions. It doesn't shy away from Brown's terrible actions (especially towards women, his band, and his family), but accepts that sometimes a person can do both terrible things and do amazing things. A fascinating book!
It inspired me to watch the T.A.M.I Show (available on youtube): which is pretty much the best concert of all time and features not just James Brown, but also the Beach Boys, Chuck Barry, Marvin Gaye, The Supremes. The Rolling Stones are the last act and they kinda suck after watching James Brown.
It inspired me to watch the T.A.M.I Show (available on youtube): which is pretty much the best concert of all time and features not just James Brown, but also the Beach Boys, Chuck Barry, Marvin Gaye, The Supremes. The Rolling Stones are the last act and they kinda suck after watching James Brown.
April 29, 2016
Excellent book! Mr. McBride does a wonderful job researching James Brown. He speaks to people who actually knew Mr. Brown and just weren't paid to be around him. Mr. McBride paints the portrait of a man who is deeply flawed and deeply misunderstood. Through McBride's search for James Brown we go through American history, music history and the history of James Brown.
June 19, 2016
This is an exceptional bio on James Brown, not only covering his tumultuous life and career but an examination of the ugly truths of race in America and the glories and pitfalls of stardom. Sadly, I have not read McBride before but he is an excellent writer and I will be reading more of his work.
Read
August 13, 2020Only got a third of the way through. I really don't like his writing style -- repetitive, a little overwrought, and making statements with no backup. I've never liked biographies where the biographer inserts themselves into the story. Not going to finish.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 470 reviews