TONYA MOSLEY, HOST:
This is FRESH AIR. George Clinton is the leader of two groundbreaking funk bands, Parliament and Funkadelic. As the writer, producer and performer behind numerous hits, Clinton helped define the sound of funk in the 1970s and beyond. While he hasn't received as much commercial success as his influences James Brown and Sly Stone, his impact on music is just as profound. Rock critic Ken Tucker is using the 50th anniversary of Clinton's classic album, "Mothership Connection," to celebrate this pioneering innovator and the enduring power of his funk.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "P-FUNK (WANTS TO GET FUNKED UP)")
PARLIAMENT: Good evening. Do not attempt to adjust your radio. There is nothing wrong. We have taken control as to bring you this special show. We will return it to you as soon as you are grooving. Welcome to station W-E-F-U-N-K, better known as WeFunk, or deeper still, the Mothership Connection, home of the extraterrestrial brothers, dealers of funky music, P-Funk, uncut funk, the bomb.
Coming to you directly from the mother ship, top of the chocolate Milky Way. Five hundred thousand kilowatts of P-Funk power. So kick back, dig, while we do it to you and your eardrums. Oh, me? I'm known as Lollipop Man, alias the Long-Haired Sucker. My motto is...
(Singing) Make my funk the P-Funk.
Make mine the P-Funk.
(Singing) I want my funk uncut.
I want my funk uncut.
KEN TUCKER, BYLINE: Fifty years ago, George Clinton was at an artistic peak, the first of many. He was writing so much material that in order to get all the music recorded and heard, he fronted two separate groups, Parliament and Funkadelic. By a very rough distinction, Parliament's funk music was more light and catchy, while Funkadelic's was heavier and more given to improvisation. In 1975, Parliament released "Mothership Connection," a loose concept album about funk musicians as galactic invaders, complete with a spaceship that would land on stage at the start of every concert, disgorging George Clinton dressed in what looked like a spacesuit made out of aluminum foil.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "MOTHERSHIP CONNECTION (STAR CHILD)")
PARLIAMENT: Well, all right. Star Child. Citizens of the universe, recording angels, we have returned to claim the pyramids. Partying on the mother ship, I am the Mothership Connection. Getting down in 3D. Light-year grooving. All right. Hear any noise, ain't nobody but me and the boys getting down. Hit it, fellas.
(Singing) If you hear any noise, it's just me and the boys. Hit me.
Grooving.
(Singing) You got to hit the band.
All right, all right. Star Child here. Put a glide in your stride and a dip in your hip and come onto the mother ship. Loose booty, doing the bump.
TUCKER: For George Clinton, science fiction was a metaphor for the alienating experience of trying to make it as a Black pop star. He was at the forefront of what came to be called Afrofuturism, along with Black writers such as the critic Greg Tate and the novelists Octavia Butler and Ishmael Reed, whose landmark work, "Mumbo Jumbo," had been published just three years before "Mothership Connection." On tour, Clinton blended his world-building and his bands into a sprawling spectacle he referred to as the Parliafunkadelicment Thang - or, more simply, the U.S. Funk Mob.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "GIVE UP THE FUNK (TEAR THE ROOF OFF THE SUCKER)")
PARLIAMENT: (Singing) You've got a real type of thing going down, getting down. There's a whole lot of rhythm going round. You've got a real type of thing going down, getting down. There's a whole lot of rhythm going round.
(Singing) Oh, we want the funk. Give up the funk. Oh, we need the funk. We got to have that funk. Oh, we want the funk. Give up the funk. Oh, we need the funk. We got to have that funk.
(Singing) La, la, la, la, la.
TUCKER: That song - "Give Up The Funk, Tear The Roof Off The Sucker" - was both a concert showstopper and the band's first million-selling single. It's a groove, a mood, a rhythm Clinton and his platoon of players, including guitarist Eddie Hazel, bassist Bootsy Collins and the keyboardist Bernie Worrell, could maintain for long stretches on record and especially in concert. Think the Grateful Dead, but with a far superior sense of rhythm.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "P-FUNK (WANTS TO GET FUNKED UP)")
PARLIAMENT: Well, all right. Hey, I was digging on y'all's funk for a while. Sounds like it got a three on it, though, to me. Then I was down south and I heard some funk with some Main Ingredients - like, Doobie Brothers, Blue Magic, David Bowie. It was cool. But can you imagine Doobie in your funk? Ho, W-E-F-U-N-K. We funk.
(Singing) Make my funk the P-Funk. I want my funk uncut. Oh, make my funk the P-Funk. I wants to get funked up. I want the bomb. I want the P-Funk.
P-Funk, y'all.
(Singing) Don't want my funk stepped on. Make my funk the P-Funk.
Home of the extraterrestrial brothers.
(Singing) Before I take it home.
Getting deep.
TUCKER: Clinton has always preached a utopian vision of, to quote a Funkadelic song title, "One Nation Under A Groove. From the mid-70s to the mid-80s, he released more than 30 albums on a variety of record labels and under an array of different band names. His influence is vast. Prince idolized Clinton and signed him briefly to his Paisley Park label. Scores of hip-hop artists have sampled his melodic hooks. But he couldn't sustain it. Clinton's empire crumpled under the weight of poor business deals, the industry racism that kept him off white pop radio during his busiest years and, most unfortunately, drugs and the wear and tear on a body that nonstop touring will inflict.
George Clinton is now 84, and he's still performing. Back in 1984, I wrote a piece for the Village Voice in which I described Clinton as the great pop brain of our era. And for a brief period, he really was. I also lamented the fact that he never achieved the ambition he asserted when I first interviewed him - to be as popular as the Beatles. The next time I saw Clinton to speak with him, he quoted John Lennon back to me, saying, the dream is over. He was smiling when he said it. But I could feel his frustration, his pain, as profoundly as one of the genius funk riffs he's been composing for more than half a century.
MOSLEY: Rock critic Ken Tucker on the 50th anniversary of the release of George Clinton's album "Mothership Connection." Tomorrow on FRESH AIR, Peter Guralnick. He's the author of the definitive two-volume biography of Elvis Presley. His new book is about Elvis' longtime manager, Colonel Tom Parker. Guralnick says researching the book led to many surprises and made him question the many preconceptions about Parker. It's called "The Colonel And The King." I hope you can join us. To keep up with what's on the show and get highlights of our interviews, follow us on Instagram at @nprfreshair.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "MOTHERSHIP CONNECTION (STAR CHILD)")
PARLIAMENT: Are you hip to Easter Island? The Bermuda Triangle? Well, all right. Ain't nothing but a party.
MOSLEY: FRESH AIR's executive producer is Danny Miller. Our technical director and engineer is Audrey Bentham. Our managing producer is Sam Briger. Our interviews and reviews are produced and edited by Phyllis Myers, Ann Marie Baldonado, Lauren Krenzel, Therese Madden, Monique Nazareth, Thea Chaloner, Susan Nyakundi, Anna Bauman and John Sheehan. Our digital media producer is Molly Seavy-Nesper. Our consulting visual producer is Hope Wilson. Roberta Shorrock directs the show. With Terry Gross, I'm Tonya Mosley.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "MOTHERSHIP CONNECTION (STAR CHILD)")
PARLIAMENT: (Singing) If you hear any noise, it's just me and the boys hitting it. You got to hit the band.
Star Child here, doing it in 3D. So good, it's good to me. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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