If James Brown was a woman, he'd be Sharon Jones.
Like Brown, she hails from the same corner of the Earth, the Spanish moss-laden hills of Augusta, Georgia, a place abundant with gu-wrenching soul dripping with spirituality and sass.
And that's just Jones, the front woman for the baddest international horn and strings band since the hey days of Motown.
Welcome to Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings.
These days you’d get http://files.adbrite.com/mb/images/green-double-underline-006600.gif) repeat-x scroll center bottom transparent; margin-bottom: -2px; padding-bottom: 2px;' name='AdBriteInlineAd_laughed' target='_top'>laughed out of an A&R’s office if you used the word, “funk,” and “soul,” in the same sentence.
And let’s be honest, artists have been using the word” soul” migh-ty loosely for perhaps the past decade.
But with Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings, it’s almost a reserved description.