Alotta folks get cited as important in the realm of rock development. There can’t ever be a definitive list compiled of all the groups that in some way affected the way in which we now listen to rock and or roll. But Hank Ballard and his group, the Midnighters, are often referred to as an integral part of the pre-rock clutch of bands that littered record stores with singles. Of them, Ballard and his group – which apparently at one time counted a future member of the Four Tops – recorded a series of raunchy tracks using a girl named ‘Annie’ as a central character. Those songs were often banned from radio stations as the people on the mic – and behind the scenes – found the subject matter (getting’ it and getting’ it good) to be unsuitable for mass consumption.

Leaving the group behind – or at least the name – Ballard struck out after writing and recording the original version of “The Twist.” This older version somehow didn’t have the impact that Chubby Checker’s later re-working would have, but the song’s success afforded Ballard some much deserved attention. Unfortunately, the singer wasn’t really able to again capitalize on the market place and during most of the ‘60s he languished in relative obscurity. Ballard still recorded, but his work couldn’t seem to find a niche group to snatch it up.

Enter Mr. James Brown.

Being a fan of Ballard’s voice since the ‘50s, Brown saw (and heard) in his one-time hero the possibility of re-invention. During the ‘60s as Mr. Hot Pants was not only at the height of his creative powers, but popularity, he got behind the boards on a number of records. And it again was as a result of an auspicious pairing that You Can't Keep A Good Man Down was set to tape. The telling title might have been enough for fans to realize what was to be included here, but none could have been prepared for the JB’s style funk that backed up Ballard.

The series of songs was a litany of love letters to black women, begging them to leave their hair all natural like. And really, if done improperly, the tracks that accompanied this bit of social commentary could have resulted in an unmitigated mess. But the spate of rockers that back up Ballard work well – “Come On Wit It” perhaps being one of the more memorable highlights.

There’re no shortage of breaks and slinky guitar even if Ballard re-records an old classic from his catalog. “Teardrops on Your Letter” comes in a bit slower than the rest of the work here, but it wouldn’t reveal its age even amongst some of the more muscular tracks included. The disc could comes off as a clutch of music that works to better effect with Mr. James Brown at the helm, but the fact that Ballard unquestionably influenced the younger performer’s style makes it an odd endeavor. Half that time, you’re gonna hafta think about whose actually singing all of this. But that just means that You Can't Keep A Good Man Down is endlessly funky.