Album Review: It’s Alright, My James Brown by Maximum Basie
Released in 2010 on Rowed Out Records, It’s Alright, My James Brown is a genre-blurring gem from the UK that somehow manages to fuse Funk/Soul, Rock, and Jazz into something uniquely its own. With a style rooted firmly in Jazz-Funk, this album feels like an unpolished yet deeply soulful jam session you didn’t know you needed. The band—featuring Judith Okon on vocals, Mattias De Craene on saxophone, Rik Vermeir shredding guitar, Kris Vermeir tickling keys, Bart Thys laying down drums, Gunter Deleu holding it together on bass, and Filip Raemdonck engineering the magic—is tight without being too slick.
One track that sticks with me is the title cut, “It’s Alright, My James Brown.” Right off the bat, the groove grabs hold of you. It's not trying to reinvent the wheel; instead, it rolls smooth and steady, with Judith Okon’s voice adding just enough grit and warmth to keep things real. There’s no overthinking here—just pure vibe. You can almost picture the band huddled in some dimly lit studio, letting the music breathe. And when Mattias’ sax solo kicks in halfway through? Forget about it. That moment alone makes the song unforgettable—a raw burst of energy that feels both spontaneous and perfectly placed.
Another standout is (insert second track name if available). This one leans heavier into the jazz side of their sound but still keeps the funk alive. Rik Vermeir’s guitar work shines here, weaving intricate lines that dance around Judith’s vocals. What really hits home, though, is how effortlessly they blend styles. It’s less about showing off technical chops and more about creating a mood—one where listeners feel invited to join the party.
What strikes me most about It’s Alright, My James Brown isn’t just the quality of musicianship—it’s the authenticity. These guys aren’t chasing trends or aiming for perfection. They’re playing because they love it, and that comes across loud and clear. By the time the last note fades, you realize this isn’t your typical polished jazz-funk record. It’s got edges, quirks, maybe even a few rough patches—but those imperfections make it all the more human.
If I had to sum it up? Listening to this album feels like finding a hidden bar at 2 AM—dim lighting, great tunes, and zero pretense. Oh, and here’s the kicker: despite the title nodding to James Brown, there’s nothing derivative about it. If anything, Maximum Basie pays homage while carving out their own space. Now that’s alright.
