Continued from…

THE BIG BANG THEORY

So what is funk, and where did it come from?

To begin with, there was James Brown, who laid down the master plan: fusing gut-bucket R & B with instrumental insistence, he created a music whose parts are all percussive, from the drums to the horns to the bass to the voice. Pop, pop, pop. But underneath it all is a smooth, shuffling groove that propels the music forward, "tight but loose." This wasn’t exactly soul, not really rock ’n’ roll, certainly wasn’t the blues, and had only the barest hint of jazz. It was its own thang, offering a freedom of spirit unlike any other kind of music.

Although others may have played funk before and after, especially in the clubs, James was the undisputed Godfather, the wellspring of Uncut Funk. But then George came along, and took it to another place altogether.

Originally, Clinton was a hairdresser at the Uptown Tonsorial Parlor in Newark, N.J., who had aspirations to sing doo-wop. He formed a band with his friends, they called themselves The Parliaments, and they gigged through the early ’60s while George made connections in the biz. By 1967, the group released a bona fide Top 20 hit on Detroit-based Revilot records: "(I Wanna) Testify." A soulful doo-wop number, it barely hinted at what lay ahead.

George was soon immersed in the psychedelic era, particularly the Beatles (as well as mind-altering drugs), and started fusing that sensibility into his music. After losing the "Parliaments" name in a legal battle, he formed Funkadelic, a black funk-rock band that defied description (and is now probably one of most influential bands in "alternative" rock). The group regularly gigged on bills with the MC5, Ted Nugent and the Amboy Dukes, and Iggy Pop (in one strange publicity stunt, he was momentarily "married" to Mr. Osterberg). They were, in a word or two, stone freaks.

The band released some now classic sides on Westbound Records that barely sold at the time: Maggot Brain, Let’s Take It to the Stage, and Standing on the Verge of Getting It On. And with America Eats Its Young, Clinton found his political voice, expounding on the dangers of Big Government in a mocking tone.

But it wasn’t until he regained the Parliament name that he found his greatest success: the grand spectacle of intergalactic Afronaught funk.

AQUA BOOGIE

Infused by the talents of James Brown sidemen bassist Bootsy Collins, saxophonist Maceo Parker, and trombonist Fred Wesley (as well as old friend keyboards player Bernie Worrell), he created the smoother, more polished Parliament sound, with a full horn section and little distorted guitar. Adding to the band’s commercial sense was an entire mythology of characters Clinton created to illustrate his funky ideas. There’s Sir Nose, the villain who represents all that is unfunky in the universe, and Star Child, the bringer of the true funk.

It may seem like silly stuff, but Clinton’s mythology gave funk its own philosophy. Certainly, the music always had an unbridled spirit, but Clinton gave it an ethos: "Free your mind and your ass will follow." He conceptualized funk as the opposite of all that is soulless and sterile in the world, a liberating force of thought meant to defeat the minions of mind control, an antidote to lifelessness. You don’t often find sincerely high ideals in dance music, now or then.

A few years ago, Clinton declared that he wanted to make funk as legitimate a genre of music as jazz or blues. Today, he notes that eight universities teach music courses in funk–though when he’s asked to define his music, he doesn’t know what to say.

"When I put stuff together back then it was instinctual–you know, ‘Wants to get funked up!’ Didn’t think twice about it. Now they’re analyzing it all and tellin’ me ‘This is what you meant when you sang that.’ And I’m goin’, ‘Yeah, uh, that’s right!’"

Within those goofball lyrics–"Ain’t nothin’ but a party, y’all!"–lies a thread of social commentary, an all-inclusive call to arms. There is little condemnation or anger in Clinton’s lyrics, only a mockery of that which is unfunky, and an overriding optimism that optimism itself can save the day. And Clinton has kept his own positivity intact, even after years of IRS troubles, lawsuit troubles, drug troubles, "creative differences" troubles–most of which were duly reported.

"What else is there to do?" muses Clinton on the subject of preserving one’s optimism. "The media fills the market demand, and if the market wants to hear about drug problems, then that’s what the media will supply. You can’t boo-hoo ’bout it. You can only be who you are."

LET’S TAKE IT TO THE STAGE

After a semi-productive term with Prince’s now defunct Paisley Park label ("He was havin’ the same problems I’ve always had with parent companies."), Clinton is now ensconced with Sony Records. And the vital juices are flowing, with Bootsy, Bernie and the whole Funk Mob joining in.

"It’s gonna be wild," Clinton enthuses. "This’ll be the first record that I can do without A&R breathin’ down my back. Everything’ll be there, all the right elements. We don’t shoot for commercial records per se, but we do try to be on top of whatever those commercial records are sellin’, whatever they’re deliverin’. So if the company’s down with us, helpin’ us promote it, then I think we may possibly have a new Mothership this year."

Of course, Sony is probably quite happy over Clinton’s proposed direction for the album, which will have more of a Funkadelic sound with plenty of popular guest stars. "We’re gonna do some stuff with the guy from Rage Against the Machine, hopefully Eddy Vedder from Pearl Jam, and if I’m lucky, Soundgarden," says Clinton. Then he chortles: "Soundgarden reminds me of Funkadelic, Deep Purple and the Beatles all at the same time."

Touring is where P-Funk truly comes alive, though, when Funkateers gather together to pay homage and get on The One at free-form three-hour concerts. Since Clinton’s Lollapalooza performances, his audiences have expanded to include multitudes of different types of party people.

"You can never tell from one city to the next who’s going to be predominately there," remarks Clinton. "You’d think a lot of hip-hoppers’d be there, but most of ’em are embarrassed because their mothers are there. One guy told me: ‘Yo, Judge, man, my aunt’s over there, man, smokin’ boo. Man, if she’s here, my momma’s probably here!’" Clinton erupts in laughter. "But to me, it’s like goin’ to the circus. It’s the only place where the whole family can go, grandparents, parents and kids, and nobody feel out of place."

One family under a groove.

First Published: February 23, 1995 • Metro Pulse

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Sidebar: A P-Funk Glossary

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Related Websites:

The Motherpage: This low-tech P-Funk faq doesn't appear to have been updated for five years (or more), but it does have very complete information on the P-Funk discography.

George Clinton's Art: Yep, he's a painter, too. I guess.

Dr. Funkenstein: Very nifty Flash site with an animated George. But it's mostly just a P-Funk link site where you "shoot" your links from the Mothership's viewscreen.