Charlie Brooks: The moves of a soul man
Joe Engle
"Funky drummer" Clyde Stubblefield's weekly Funky Mondays show at The Frequency owes much of its fun, and of course lots of its soul power, to Charlie Brooks. When Brooks joins the band for such numbers as "Mustang Sally," "Brick House," and "Heard It Through The Grapevine," he delivers not only a solid vocal performance, but showmanship of a kind rarely seen in Madison's small clubs. His bold but never loud suits, impressive mustache, and lively, crowd-stirring moves and banter can be traced straight back to the Motown machine, which groomed him for work in backing and opening bands for such artists as The Supremes and Sly And The Family Stone. "When I did Motown, you had to go to prep school, and you were taught etiquette, how to eat, stage presence, how to stand," Brooks tells The A.V. Club. "I learned early on that if you entertain the crowd and you dress, that's 40 percent of the battle before you even start performing." A few decades on, that professional touch and work ethic make Brooks' performances (with Stubblefield, and as part of Charlie Brooks And Soulfood) an invigorating channel back to R&B's better days. "Most people come out to have a good time," he says. "I want to get to them before they get drunk and foolish." The A.V. Club observed Brooks' moves at a few recent Funky Mondays, then sat down with him to get more pointers on soul-brother showmanship.
Mic-stand kick
The move: In more cavalier moments onstage, Brooks tips the mic out toward the crowd and yanks it back, sometimes causing it to swing a little close to the faces of the horn players on his right.
Charlie Brooks: I got a lot of bloody lips early on. You can look at performers like James Brown and Wilson Pickett and all that. I kind of picked it up from them, but I developed my own style, using my feet on the mic under the cord, because I had some bad experiences where the cord came out. Those kinds of moves bring more brilliance to the stage, because most of the side people that I play with now with Clyde, they don't have the entertainment part. When I perform with Soul Food or some of the other bands, they're all performers like me, so the horn players are dancing, like in KC And The Sunshine Band, that sort of stuff. Actually, there's a lot more that I do in terms of the mic and dancing if I have a bigger stage. As you know, nobody's 100 percent, so when I do miss, I try to make something out of it. I'll take the mic off and maybe swing it or turn around or do something so people don't know. That, too was taught—you keep going on when you perform, you put the mistakes in the show as part of the act.
Spinning in place
The move: Coolly snapping himself into motion between lines in a song, Brooks does a spin onstage without seeming to actually lift up his shoes, quickly coming around as if he's just standing on a spinning platform.
CB: It's kind of like a ballet move, sort of. But Michael Jackson did spins, Prince, and a lot of performers like that. I'm not quite sure where I can say that I got mine from, but all the singing groups used to do steps. I watched them a lot, so I got a lot from them, like The Temptations. The spin is basically a pirouette—it's kind of like taking ballet. You use the momentum of your body, you swing your arm, and you're able to do it on one foot, and you can turn around and do it fast and come back. You use your other foot to stop so you don't overshoot it. I used to be a little more balanced when I was younger, but now I'm getting older and it gets a little much. Unless I get pumped up. If the crowd's getting into it, I'll put out more.
Dance incitement
The move: Whether simply telling people they can dance or stepping down from the stage to pull reluctant ladies off their barstools and onto their feet, Brooks puts up a classy fight against the wallflower tendencies of Madison show-goers.
CB: People, personally, if they feel that they're befriended by you, they tend to get more into what you're doing. What I'm looking for at the end, of course, is the applause and the smiles, and the acceptance, and I know that they're listening. I don't want to be background music. I want to be seen, and I want to entertain. First it's for me, because I enjoy it. It's like going to church or a prayer, and when I have people who are satisfied with my performance, then I can come home and be satisfied.
The A.V. Club: A lot of crowds here are pretty reserved, even when they're having a good time.
CB: Oh, yeah, they're very slow. A lot of times I talk to them, and I tell them they can dance. "The dance floor's ready, come on out." Songs with the ladies, like "Brick House," you know, "This is for all the girls, grab somebody, get on the floor." That was the job that I had as a warm-up band at concerts. That's kind of what I still do—get people hyped up enough to put out, shout, relax, and have a good time.
Hand punctuation
The move: When Brooks hits a particularly urgent moment in a song, his hand shoots up open-palmed, reaching out in a gesture that evokes both pleading and preaching. It's also used to mark dramatic stops and starts, like on the finale of "Heard It Through The Grapevine." The hand goes up, the band stops, Brooks shouts: "Don't you know I heard it through the grape—", pumps his fist, then the band kicks back in for "—viiiine!"
CB: Those, once again, the entertainment and the singing groups, all the hand gestures were part of that era. Clyde and I worked together, and as he worked with James Brown, if I want the band to be quiet at a certain point, I'll give him a certain signal, and as I reach out on that note, he'll hit a pop and the band will go right down. But it's there to excite the people. A lot of my work is to the females, because if you get the girls coming to your gigs, then you're gonna get more people, 'cause the guys are gonna come, 'cause there's girls there. Some bands play at one volume all night. I like to change it up so that people have variables, so they can feel it, and if I have things to talk about, then get the band quiet enough, then bring it up.
Spoken soul
The move: The quiet parts of certain tunes, like "My Girl," are a chance for a genuine charmer to offer some spoken advice; sometimes Brooks uses this time to tenderly tell the guys in the room what they should say to their women "when you get home tonight" in order to get lucky. During "What's Goin' On?," he might remind the crowd that "We all got to live on this piece of dirt together."
AVC: Are these things that you prepare, or are they more off-the-cuff?
CB: They come at the moment. Basically, if I see a crowd full of shy guys, and there are girls dancing, I'm talking to the guys to give them some encouragement or follow-through. A lot of the song content is about my girl, so I'll be speaking to the audience if they need to be talked to in that way to let them know, this is a serious moment. Like "Mustang Sally," I have them sing along with me so that they have some part of the music themselves.