RIP Mr. J. B.

Listening to James Brown’s music is like sex — I’m talking funky, sweaty, best-you’ve-ever-had sex. The kind of sex where that leaves you hungry, thirsty, exhausted and exhilarated. It might even have been a little risky. But you can still remember every tingle in every toe. And it was so incredibly worth whatever drama you had to put up with to get it. And whatever happens, you don’t really care because it was that. good.

Just watch a clip to see what I mean.

Or check the videos below: