DON'T WORRY 'BOUT A THING
I first met Bobby Byrd in May of 1964 when I trucked a not-so-portable tape deck to a James Brown rehearsal at the Richmond Arena, ostensibly to record interviews and promos for the radio station at which I apprenticed. Once I finagled my way into the padlocked basketball barn, I could see there was little likelihood of an encounter with Mr. Brown but Bobby Byrd casually sauntered over to where I was setting up my tape recorder and asked who I was. He had a JB produced solo record of his own to promote so he was more than willing to chat. I asked him how to best approach his famously unpredictable boss. Bobby just smiled and said, "don't worry 'bout a thing".
As life turns out, it wouldn't be the only time Bobby would tell me that and I must admit I learned not to let it always stop me from worrying. Despite Byrd's reassurance, I didn't get the interview that day. But to his credit, every time somebody would hassle me, Bobby came to my rescue. It wouldn't be the only time he did that either. I finally got my JB interview in 1965 and during the next five years, wherever I caught up with the show there would invariably be a backstage cop or a JB roadie determined to clear the halls of non-combatants such as myself. In the mom and pop days of the chitlin circuit, my only "backstage pass" became, "Don't worry 'bout a thing. I'm with Bobby Byrd".
Bobby Byrd meant a lot more to James Brown than most people realized. It might even be said that without Bobby there would not have been a James Brown. After all, it was the Byrd family's sponsorship that enabled James to qualify for a paroled release from prison in 1953. Mrs. Byrd took James in like one of her sons and Bobby played the role of "big brother".
The bond between Bobby and James was music. An experienced pianist and church organist, Byrd was the logical and unchallenged leader when his Gospel group gathered on his Mother's porch to practice. Once James started singing with them, Byrd grasped that things were going to change, particularly once they began performing rhythm and blues. Their earliest gigs were eye-openers, even for Bobby. "I didn't know that he could dance like he could," Byrd recently recalled. "When he started that dancin' I got so excited I jumped up and kicked over the piano stool. People went crazy."
It's well known that the Famous Flames had a huge hit with their debut record, "Please, Please, Please". What's not so well known is that less than a year later, the original group dissolved and Bobby was back in Georgia working in a photo lab at the rear of a drug store.
"The Powers that be said James didn't need no Famous Flames," recalled Bobby, his voice still wobbly from the memory some forty years later. "They said we could either work with him on salary or go home. James didn't have nothing to say. That's when I knew he had changed."
Byrd went home hurt and humiliated. But the show biz bug had bitten him. When James decided to reform the Flames for his first booking at New York's Apollo Theatre, he reached out and Bobby came running. After three days of rehearsals in the basement of Harlem's Cecil Hotel Brown told Byrd, "I'll only trust these guys if you're up there with them. You got to stay and do the shows with me."
Bobby stayed and did the shows, ten years worth. Everybody loved and respected Byrd and he became JB's diplomat and voice of reason on a tour bus full of excitable singers, musicians and dancers. In 1963 James began producing Bobby's own records and rewarded him with a solo spot on the gigs. Bobby's more memorable sides include "We're In Love", "I Need Help (I Can't Do It Alone)", "Keep On Doin'", "Saying It And Doing It (Are Two Different Things)" and the hip-hop resurrected "I Know You Got Soul".
Of course Bobby is best known for his sidekick vocals on several Brown classics recorded after he returned to the fold in 1970, once again summoned to whip a new band into shape. "Sex Machine", "Soul Power", "Get Up, Get Into It, Get Involved" and "Talking Loud And Saying Nothing" all contributed to James reinventing himself with Bobby at the forefront.
Around the same time, my years chasing the JB tour bus finally turned into a place on the payroll. When I arrived at James Brown Productions in Cincinnati, Bobby was among the first to welcome me. James Brown Productions had its share of insecure backstabbers who were leery of any newcomer but in the office and on the road, Byrd taught me the ropes and schooled me on who was who. Don't worry 'bout a thing!
In 1973 Bobby took a real shot at a solo career. But despite a brilliant young band from South Carolina and an exciting stage show that earned him a week co-headlining the Apollo with The Miracles, Bobby didn't get the elusive hit record that could have kept him going.
Thankfully, music-savvy promoters and worshipping audiences enabled Bobby and his beloved Vicki Anderson-Byrd to periodically tour Europe throughout the 1980's and 1990's. Videos of the shows documented that Bobby and his tight, red hot band that included several Byrd-Anderson offspring, were on fire.
Upon learning of Bobby's passing, Spike Lee called him "one of the unsung giants". I'm convinced that if Byrd had been associated in the 1960's with the writers, producers and musicians at a label like Atlantic or Stax, today he would be remembered along side the likes of Wilson Pickett, Otis Redding and Solomon Burke.
Byrd's last public appearance was at James Brown's funeral last December. It was already clear Bobby wasn't well, even a bit unsteady climbing the steps to the stage. I asked him if he was up to performing but he just smiled and said, what else, "don't worry 'bout a thing". He stole the show. James would have been proud.
Bobby Byrd may not have had James Brown's ruthless ambition and larger-than-life star power but he had a determined warmth and musical gift all his own and we're all the better for it. He was truly one of the good guys. In 1967 James said, "Give the drummer some". Now it's time to give Byrd some. Bobby, don't worry 'bout a thing.
(An extended version of this essay will appear in a future issue of WAXPOETICS).