Sharon Jones, soul survivor

It's been a long road for soul and funk singer Sharon Jones, but her career finally is taking off. Next, she'll buy a car.

By Dalia Wheatt, tbt* staff writer
Published January 18, 2008

Sharon Jones, left, dubbed the queen of funk, is known for her boundless energy on stage and old-school-style soul hits like Natural Born Lover and 100 Days, 100 Nights. Jones and and the Dap-Kings with the Ivan Milev Band will be at Skipper's Smokehouse in Tampa on Tuesday.
	[Getty Images]

Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings with Ivan Milev Band

Catch them at 8 p.m. Tuesday at Skipper's Smokehouse, 910 Skipper Road, Tampa. Tickets are $14 in advance and $17 day of show. Call (813) 971-0666 or go to www.wmnf.org.

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Until it died in September, Sharon Jones drove an '88 Honda. Now, she doesn't even have that.

"I'm carless," said Jones, 51, calling from a rental car as she drove to the Brooklyn, N.Y., brownstone that houses Daptone Records.

Such is life for the woman dubbed the queen of funk, known for her boundless energy on stage and old-school-style soul hits like Natural Born Lover and 100 Days, 100 Nights. Jones has been prized in Europe since she first played Spain in 2001, but it wasn't until Amy Winehouse recruited Jones' brass-heavy band, the Dap-Kings, for her 2006 Back to Black album that Jones' name started coming up around more watercoolers stateside.

Jones might not bring the tabloid sensationalism of the Dap-Kings' other frontwoman, but critics have raved about her earthy power and authenticity. Her range and solid vocals recall divas of the '60s and '70s, like Aretha Franklin and Gwen McRae.

Jones and her Dap-Kings have helped pioneer a back-to-basics revival movement in R&B music, a backlash to the flashy technology and imagery of today. Their refusal to go digital in their recording and use of analog tape - a standard held by their label, Daptone Records - result in a sound that's warmer, more resonant and more expressive than what you typically hear on the radio. It's the music of sweat and swaying in a dive bar, not bleeps and beats on earphones.

The band's live show is even more spirited, with Jones outfitted in a sequined mod dress and pulling audience members on stage. Tuesday's concert at Skipper's Smokehouse will likely sell out to its 791 capacity, as more soul fans grow hip to the band's buzz.

'I knew I had the gift'

Jones was born Sheron Lafaye Jones in Augusta, Ga., the birthplace of the late godfather of soul, James Brown. In fact, Brown and Jones' mother were playmates, but that connection didn't bring any easy breaks for Jones. Raised in Brooklyn, Jones struggled to get gigs outside of church because, as she was told, she didn't have "the look" - that is, slender and light-skinned.

But, Jones said, "I knew I had the gift. Whoever I chose to imitate, I would sound like that."

In her early 30s, Jones became a wedding singer and took various city jobs to pay the bills. From 1988 to 1990, she worked as a guard at New York City's largest jail facility, Rikers Island. One night when the inmates found out Jones was a singer, they refused to return to their cells until Jones sang Whitney Houston's Greatest Love of All.

"They were standing in front of their cells, and I'm standing at the end of the hall, and I had to sing the Greatest Love, and then I had to go inside and close their cells up," Jones said. Although she loathed her job, it taught her something about stage presence.

"Only thing I know, you can't show fear. So maybe that's a good thing - it kept me from showing fear," Jones said. "I guess I can hold that fear back when I get onstage. There's nothing to be afraid of. You just get out there and do it."

In 2001, Jones and the Dap-Kings - named for the dapper suits and hats they wear on stage - got a summer residency at a club in Barcelona and soon after made their first full-length recording, Dap Dippin' with Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings. Her music career has been off lockdown ever since.

Learning to share

Now Jones' only dilemma is making sure the Dap-Kings are free to tour with her. After backing troubled starlet Winehouse on several tracks, including Rehab, the band became Winehouse's official U.S. touring band.

"That's why we'll never be on tour at the same time," Jones said with a laugh. When Winehouse recently borrowed the Dap-Kings for a project, Jones busied herself playing a 1930s juke-joint singer in Denzel Washington's The Great Debaters. But Jones wouldn't mind collaborating with the 24-year-old Winehouse.

"I would love to do some stuff with Amy - anything right now to get her out of that little funk she's in. To be able to put my arms around her, embrace her. 'Cause I don't want to talk bad about her. I don't want to knock her down," Jones said. "My prayer is out that she get out of that and get on back out here and get this music out here that people love to hear, because she has that gift. If she got it, don't lose it."

Happier days

The Dap-Kings used to joke that for Jones to have a great show, she had to be riled up.

"That was when I wasn't making that much money and we was working hard and I was killing myself doing 260-something gigs a year," Jones said. "Now that's all come down, so I'm not angry. Now I don't have to get angry. That anger now comes in as some positive energy. You just feel a bit more energy of me on the stage."

Now that she garners a heftier fee, Jones' touring schedule has allowed her 20 days off this spring - enough time to go car shopping.

"I want maybe a 2000 or 2002. I don't want a brand-new car yet, until I get out of these projects," Jones said, referring to her neighborhood of Far Rockaway, Queens. "I don't want a brand-new car living in the projects. I want to get a new car when I have a home and park it in front of my garage."

Times staff writer Julie Garisto contributed to this report.

[Last modified January 17, 2008, 09:54:06]