Soul singer Sharon Jones makes fair hip

After wowing crowds at the hip Coachella, Bonnaroo and Lollapalooza festivals, Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings landed at the square Minnesota State Fair on Thursday.

Square in that the security guard chased away a fan who wanted to dance in front of the stage at the Leinie Lodge Bandshell. When the would-be dancer spun around after the security guard grabbed him, spilling his beer all over the place, Dap-Kings guitarist Binky Griptite jumped off the stage into the fray. Not only did he liberate the dancer, but then suddenly the entire moat in front of the stage was packed with dozens of dancers, to the delight of the Dap-Kings -- and the crowd.

This, Jones noted later, doesn't happen at festivals. In fact, she likes to connect with her crowd so much that she pulled a parade of dancers onstage throughout the 90-minute show. And wouldn't you know it, when she sang "How Do I Let a Good Man Down," she invited the initial beer-spilling dude to be her private dancer onstage.

Jones didn't let him or the packed throng at the bandshell down. Often billed as the female answer to James Brown (they were both born in Augusta, Ga.), she came across as part preacher, part teacher and all show-woman at the fair. She may worship at the musical church of Brown and shop at Tina Turner's closet, but she spread joy onstage like Golden's Guiltless Bagel schmears cream cheese outside the fair's Midway.

Jones, 52, favors a horn-accented Southern soul sound that was popular from about 1967 to 1971. Except with the Dap-Kings -- a bunch of 30- and 40-something guys from Brooklyn -- and Jones' unstoppable personality and boundless body-shaking energy, the music felt fresh. She was so in the moment, calling out for various Dap-Kings to take solos, pulling women onstage to play Ikettes to her Tina Turner and flirting with guys who slow danced with her.

All of this would just be hammy show-womanship if she didn't back it up with a ferociously passionate voice: sassy, sexy and suitable for the emotion of the lyrics. Jones reimagined Woody Guthrie's "This Land Is Your Land" as a deep soulful groove tune. "Be Easy" was a smooth seduction while "My Man Is a Mean Man" was furiously funky. "100 Days, 100 Nights" was a soul stroll that reminded the delirious crowd that even though the Dap-Kings backed up Amy Winehouse on "Back to Black" and on tour, it was artists such as Jones who paved the way for the current vintage-soul renaissance.

"This is the biggest high in the world right now," Jones declared late in the evening during a rare moment when she had downshifted from overdrive to neutral. "I'm on Cloud Nine."

And the 5,000 revelers at the bandshell, where Jones plays again tonight, would have agreed. Suddenly, it was hip at the square fair.

Jon Bream • 612-673-1719