A Celebration of Groove, Unity and the Timeless Pulse of Soul
When The Dukes of September performed People Get Up and Drive Your Funky Soul live at Lincoln Center in New York City in November 2012 for PBS Great Performances, it became one of the most memorable moments of the entire concert film. This was not a chart-seeking single or a promotional move, but a statement of identity. The trio of Donald Fagen, Michael McDonald and Boz Scaggs chose this song because it represented something essential about their purpose as a band. They were not there simply to revisit hits from their respective careers. They were there to honor the lineage of American rhythm and soul that shaped them long before any of them stepped into the spotlight.
Their rendition of People Get Up and Drive Your Funky Soul, originally rooted in the James Brown universe of rhythm-first funk, carries both reverence and reinvention. The band behind them is large, disciplined and alive with the kind of tight musicianship only seasoned performers can summon. Horns stab the air with precision. The rhythm section locks into a groove that is impossible to resist. Backing vocalists glide in and out of the mix like another instrument entirely. Every element feels intentional, yet effortless, as if the music has always existed and the band is simply drawing it down from the atmosphere.
What makes this particular performance resonate is the interplay of voices and history. Donald Fagen brings his sly, cool vocal phrasing and jazz-inflected edge. Michael McDonald delivers a warm, gospel-steeped tone that feels like a hand on the shoulder. Boz Scaggs adds his smooth, soulful grit. Together, they are not competing or rotating for attention. They are blending, lifting, responding, celebrating. The song becomes a shared language, a communal heartbeat.
The staging at Lincoln Center adds another layer of meaning. Soul and funk, genres born from clubs, bars and street-corner rhythms, find themselves elevated in a hall built for classical grandeur. Yet nothing feels out of place. Instead, the contrast becomes the message. Music of the people belongs everywhere. It can shake floors or chandelier ceilings with equal force.
By the time the band reaches full intensity, the song does exactly what its title instructs. It urges the listener to move, to wake up, to join the current of energy pouring from the stage. There is no nostalgia for the sake of nostalgia. Instead, there is continuity.
In this performance, People Get Up and Drive Your Funky Soul becomes more than a cover. It becomes a tribute, a revival and a reminder that timeless music is not preserved. It breathes, and when played by those who truly understand its spirit, it lives again with powerful clarity.