98% Funky Stuff. My Life in Music by Maceo Parker

By Maceo Parker

Maceo Parker's signature sort grew to become the lynchpin of James Brown's band while he and his brother Melvin joined the toughest operating guy in express company in 1964. That variety helped outline Brown's model of funk, and the word "Maceo, i need you to blow!" grew to become a part of the lexicon of black track. He took time without work from James Brown to play with George Clinton's P-funk collective and with Bootsy's Rubber Band; he additionally shaped his personal band, Maceo and all of the King's males, whose files are cult favorites between funk aficionados.

Here Maceo tells his personal hot and brilliant tale, from his Southern upbringing to his occupation traveling the realm and enjoying to adoring fanatics. Maceo has lengthy referred to as his method of the saxophone "2% jazz, ninety eight% funky stuff." Now, at the eve of Maceo's seventieth birthday, in prose as energetic and cool as his saxophone taking part in, this is the definitive tale of 1 of the funkiest musicians alive.

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I’m close enough to walk over and touch him. I want to say something, but I know anything I say will sound like the ramblings of just another star-struck fan. My admiration for this man and his music goes so much deeper than that. When I introduce myself to Hank Crawford, David Newman, and especially Ray Charles, I don’t want to come off that way. I want it to be as a fellow musician and, more important, a musician they know of. In that moment, I realize that things have to happen this way. I decide right then and there that I will make these men know the name Maceo Parker.

I wasn’t completely serious about becoming a great musician yet. Like most kids my age, I had a wide range of interests, and music—though very important—was just one of many things that occupied my time. It wasn’t until I was nearly in high school that my outlook on music changed entirely. James Banks blew into Kinston like a cool breeze. In 1956, midway through my eighth-grade year, he became the new junior high and high school band director. A tall, broad-shouldered man, impeccably dressed and well-groomed, Mr.

But, by the end of our first song, I noticed people were genuinely smiling and clapping, surprised that a group of kids could play like that. We were actually good. The rest of the set was a blur. Afterward we were promptly escorted back to the safety of the dressing room—but not before we’d had a chance to bask in the glow of the applause we’d earned. That night, for the first time, I felt the sensation of entertaining complete strangers. I knew right away that it wasn’t like playing for your family; something was different about the way those people cheered us on.

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