“With the rhythm it takes to dance to what we have to live through, you can dance underwater and not get wet.” — “Aqua Boogie,” Parliament.
George Clinton claims a unique honor: He fronted not one, but two of the greatest bands of the past half-century, Parliament and Funkadelic, along with various projects that all fit under the heading of the “P-Funk Mob.”
A musical collective which, for over 30 years, has brought to the people Clinton’s singular and complex vision of redemption, transcendence and the all-important funky good time, the group (including all of its past and present members) has made some of the best and most enduring music in recent memory, confounding and converting audiences with its mixture of head-heavy lyrics and righteously funky R&B.
They are the Mothership Connection, providing a link between the eternal, the otherworldly and the wholly un-supernatural. Aside from pioneering the polyrhythmic, extended grooves which now characterize the “funk” genre, coinciding with the revolutionary instrumental work of legends like bassist Bootsy Collins, keyboardist Bernie Worrell and guitarist Eddie Hazel, P-Funk’s lyrics, many of which came from Clinton’s pen, should not be overlooked.
The mere number of ubiquitous phrases which first appeared on P-Funk records stands as a testament: “One nation under a groove,” “We want The Bomb,” “We want to get funked up,” “Tear the roof off the sucker” and, of course, “Free your mind and your ass will follow.”
They talked to the head, the body and the soul, joking and dancing as they also pressed their funked-up followers against true altering of consciousness.
George Clinton is a mystical, somewhat mythical musician who stands at the center of this universe. Clinton (aka Dr. Funkenstein, the Star Child, Sir Nose D’Void of Funk, Mr. Wiggles, etc.) talked with the Badger Herald in preparation for his visit to Madison.
Badger Herald: What do you consider your greatest musical accomplishment?
George Clinton: To be able to be here nowadays, to participate with the funk and the connection with hip-hop, techno and alternative. I always wanted to do that, because being funky was like the DNA for hip-hop. I like to see the connections.
I always thought it was weird when Jimi Hendrix was playing “rock and roll,” and Muddy Waters, Bo Diddley and Lightnin’ Hopkins were playing “blues,” and they were sayin’ the same thing; it was just a matter of equipment. I just wanted to be here when connections happened.
BH: Craig Werner, a University of Wisconsin professor who wrote about P-Funk in his book, “A Change is Gonna Come,” describes your music as, “living and breathing the spirit of jazz, stretching minds and transgressing every boundary it comes to.” How would you comment on that appraisal?
GC: I like that idea. I remember when they asked Wynton Marsailas what kinds of music he liked, and he said “P-Funk.” I thought that was a good thing.
All R&B eventually becomes jazz after some period of time anyway. For example, I love doo-wop, and I just did a bunch of techno doo-wop; people will either gong the hell out of me, or they’re going to like it. I couldn’t see doo-wop coming back no way but nostalgia, and I hate it to be nostalgia. So I tried some techno.
BH: How has the hip-hop audience changed your position in the music world?
GC: It lives up to the concept that kids love what the parents hate. I felt that, so I picked up on it. I felt like it was going to be the new thing, and when musicians say that it ain’t music, that’s another reason why it’s the new thing. You can bet your ass.
Eventually, like rock and roll, it becomes almost religious. You know, feedback was noise before Hendrix and the rockers made it almost like church. The hip-hoppers broke the rules, too.
BH: On a great Funkadelic record, you asked, “What is soul?” Did you ever arrive at an answer?
GC: It’s about growin’. If you got soul, you should be able to appreciate everything that exists. What you thought was noise, you can learn to appreciate. Soul is the ability to learn to appreciate everything, including words.
There’s a lot of talk about kids using “bad words,” but they must be somehow saying “I love you” when they say “f*ck” or “sh*t.” We used to talk like they do as a joke, playin’ the dozens, but now they get paid for it.
Appreciation must be learned; you can’t change your mind, so with music and sound, when you got soul, you can even say a curse word and make it something endearing. But you have to have soul in your heart to believe that.
BH: Describe the P-Funk philosophy/mythology.
GC: Well, it’s an experiment with blacks being other places than just on the planet. Like after we did “Chocolate City” [a great P-Funk tune musing on the possibilities of a black nation both within and apart from the United States], where else do you think blacks weren’t considered to be? Outer space.
I figure there’ll be some niggas out there with Cadillacs, and they’ll be partyin’. Then you get into that sort of “Star Trek” stuff, and you realize that any kinds of entities are possible.
To me, reality is an agreement; it’s almost illusory. We’re getting ready to see some sh*t now; the only way they’re gonna stop this bullsh*t now is some seriously metaphysical entities. It’s getting like Revelations.
Otherwise we’re gonna tear this place apart, and that seems to be what the people in charge have in mind. They might even be the aliens themselves, but they’re definitely tempting all the stuff that’s supposed to start Revelations.
All the elements are coming together for what has been predicted, and they’re using that prediction as an excuse to go tear the world apart. Funk gives you the ability to at least entertain these kinds of thoughts.
BH: What are you listening to right now?
GC: Mystikal and Eminem. Still some people who test the boundaries of absurdity, both of them can do that real good. D’Angelo’s one of my favorite R&B singers, and I like techno.
Now that Soundgarden and Rage Against the Machine have broken up, I’m waitin’ for another rock and roll band.
BH: What should people coming to your show expect?
GC: Bring two booties. They should expect the music to kick one of their asses dancin’, and then they’ll need one to sit on when they get outta there.
They should expect a good time and prepare for some safe sex, because they’ll probably get some after the show. I promise to keep the funk, so promise you’ll keep the funk.
George Clinton and Parliament-Funkadelic play at the Orpheum Theatre tonight at 8 p.m. Any of y’all who feel a need for some of their unique healing should, as the Star Child’s been known to preach, put a slide in your glide and a dip in your hip and come aboard the Mothership.