RICK JAMES: SUPER FREAK OR SOCIAL CRITIC?
A weird thing happened at a Rick James show I saw in Buffalo last year. Until the moment in question, the show was a typical (read: sleazy to the max) slick Rick arenafest, one that made the pursuit of groin and goods feel like humanity's obvious destiny.
RICK JAMES: SUPER FREAK OR SOCIAL CRITIC?
RJ SMITH
A weird thing happened at a Rick James show I saw in Buffalo last year. Until the moment in question, the show was a typical (read: sleazy to the max) slick Rick arenafest, one that made the pursuit of groin and goods feel like humanity's obvious destiny.
But then. Some time after the Mary Jane goyls had flirted with the mikestands, and our protagonist had gotten down himself with a set of giant joints hauled onstage and, everywhere else, done his best to convince us of his kinky capacity—suddenly he put on a real serious look. Bringing out a local black politician running for office,
James urged the audience to get out and vote for "this close personal friend of mine."
You half-expected the campaigner to turn out to be another freaky prop, maybe for demonstrating with the MJ girls how to beat the bush for votes.
No go—this was for real. It showed how James was willing to use his superstardom to make himself into a politician, a spokesman for a race and class.