James Brown turned 65 this year, and musical institutions worldwide wondered: what do you get for the man who has everything? This is the Godfather of Soul we're talking about. He walks the earth with believers straggling behind him, universally revered as a Saint. He retains an aura of cool no matter how many times he embarrasses himself on television. He had 118 R&B; hits. Y'know, this is not an easy man to buy for. Indie label Zero Hour thought they had it all figured out, though. The plan was to honor the man's birthday with the gift of the tribute album. But despite their hearts being in the right place, they'd have been better off giving him a necktie.

It's interesting that despite the explosion of the genre, there has never been a proper James Brown tribute album (unless you count every rap song ever made.) This is partly due to the fact that James' songs are difficult to cover. They're not about chord changes, lyrics or even melody; from the mid- sixties forward, they've been about the groove, and/or Brown's one- of- a- kind vocals. So it's no surprise that the few successful songs here are the ones that pay the utmost respect to the rhythm while allowing room for the individual's personality to bubble through on top.

Opening the album is Frank Black's chilling version of "Mother Popcorn." Intense in the extreme, Black actually out- screams Brown's version while his backing band closely approximates the feel of the original. The result is fantastic-- truly a cover for the ages. Chris Whitley follows with a fine and tight rendition of "I Can't Stand Myself (When You Touch Me)" that scores high on the funk scale. Later, there's a ferocious version of "King Heroin" by Doublespeak that gives you an idea of what it might have been like to be in the passenger seat of Brown's Cadillac when Brother One was on angel dust and trying to mow down cops. (Terrifying, I imagine.)

But beyond those stellar cuts, there ain't much. The album focuses way too heavily on Brown's straight R+B material which, while certainly good, is not as distinctive or as relevant as the funk that followed. "I'll Go Crazy" by World Famous Blue Jays, Jules Shear doing "Ain't That A Groove"-- too many cuts sound like some generic bar band's lame version of the blues.

Which leaves the birthday boy thinking about next year and returns us to our original dilemma: what do you give the man that has everything? Here's a hint: this is a job for the remixers and turntablists. Straight up: a real tribute to Brown should consist of creative people (Bill Laswell, Q-Bert, The Automator) reworking the original material, demonstrating just how much his music has influenced the sounds of today.

-Mark Richard-San