Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings

In soul music — neo, revived, old-school or otherwise — the wrecking crew is the Dap-Kings and the wrecking ball is Sheron Lafaye Jones. Together they've changed contemporary popular music, not by units moved but by asses shook, not by the reinvention of soul but by a reassertion of its heaviest, funkiest source: James Brown and the JBs. But the Dap-Kings' sound would be but a tribute to the Godfather without Jones, a 52-year-old singer of untamed rhythmic instincts and timing, a force of sexual healing by means of ripping the Band-Aids off — one growl, one strut, one bead of sweat at a time. Even if you know their records (from the early club-friendly singles to last year's gospel-charged 100 Days, 100 Nights), you don't know what this band and singer can do until they do it — really do it — live and deep down where it feels good.