A colossus of popular music, he may be far away from his most famous stomping ground, Harlem's Apollo theatre, but Brown simply seems at home on any stage, even on a seriously sticky Black Country evening.
Brown's band play for ten minutes before the man himself appears, launching into an exhilarating performance, albeit one that's oddly frustrating.
Reductive to the point of audacity, Star Time 2005 seems to boil down all the essential Brown ingredients into one slick soul revue; that they pull it off is surprising.
The latest line-up is solid and reliable; greater than the sum of its parts, the live show is more about the whole package than individuals, and is choreographed with military precision.
Each band-member gets a chance to shine, though not as brightly as Brown's pearly grin, which can be seen gleaming like a beacon from the back of the Civic Hall.
With a dapper Brown at the reins, he's able to pull back when the show threatens to become ersatz theatre, as on a strangely subdued Try Me. If at times he sounds hushed, Brown soon reaches for his trademark onomatopoeic delivery - there are more grunts and squeals than in a ladies doubles match at Wimbledon.
He even manages a cavalcade of neat dance moves, falling to his knees for a triumphant It's A Man's Man's Man's World; no mean feat for someone treated for prostate cancer barely six months ago.
It's the kinetic funk hits that work best. A powered-up I Feel Good and a final Sex Machine, complete with added dancers, indicate he is still the hardest working man in show business. At the ripe age of 72, after five decades in the biz, he can still turn on the soul power at the drop of a cape. Ain't it funky?