I Wanna Know if It's Good to You

If you don't like the effects, don't produce the cause. Once upon a time, Parliament-Funkadelic actually presented the world with socio-political commentary, and not just dance floor anthems that all sound the same. They were a band, not just a novelty. Everyone even remotely interested in this band should go out and get "Music For Your Mother." It's a two-disc collection of the early 45s, starting with "Music For Your Mother" from back in the days when George Clinton worked at a salon in New Jersey, and Funkadelic was just the backing band for Parliament, a doo-wop group. Up until a few years ago, I was tired of Fundadelic. They were like James Brown in my mind: overplayed and annoying. I had no idea. Three years ago, Alice Cooper played at the Michigan State Fair. I went to the show with my roommate Mike, and our friend Tina. Tina took us to a barbecue before and after the show. The barbecue was hosted by Marco, former guitarist from Rocket 455 and the Paybacks. Long after Cooper's show had finished, I was sitting there sharing a huge jug of champagne with Dave Buick and Johnny Hentch. Everything was kinda low-key, everyone was tired and drunk. There was music playing in the background, and it was probably there all along, but something made me notice it. It was "Maggot Brain," featuring the Hendrix-in-space insanity of the late Eddie Hazel. I asked Marco who it was. He said "look around at everyone who's here. Most of us are or have been playing rock and roll in Detroit for our whole adult lives. When you get to be our age, you get to know all of this music, and you see that there's more beyond what you've already heard." It made sense at the time, because I was just as drunk as he was, but looking back it was nonsense. He was just trying to say that when playing rock and roll in Detroit, you tend to learn the city's musical history quickly. Soon afterward, I went out and bought "Music for Your Mother."

Soul and funk have never been the same since then. I started going deeper, and found out about the JB's, one of James Brown's many, many backing bands. The JB's were originally a loose collective playing out of the Cleveland area in the '70s. Bootsy Collins was an original member. He left the JBs to join Funkadelic. The JBs records all contain songs written by James Brown, produced by James Brown, and originally released by James Brown. Brown also plays the piano, organ, or keyboard on all of it, as well. Here and there, some songs actually have lyrics (sung by Brown, of course), but the instrumentals are what it's all about. The arrangements by trombonist Fred Wesley, the brilliant saxophonist Maceo Parker, that's what it was all about. Brown was merely a ringleader, much like George Clinton to P-Funk, or Frank Zappa to the Mothers of Invention. Pick up the JBs anthology for a taste.

After the JBs, I discovered Sly & the Family Stone. I already had the "Greatest Hits," but that doesn't really count. Sly was a trip. Literally. Starting out, the Family Stone was mainly a psychedelic soul type of affair with group vocals, horns, and upbeat, positive lyrics. But, as soon as the psychedelic '60s ended, so did the Family Stone's good times. Sly (aka Sylvester Stewart) fell deeper into his longtime heroin addiction, and became heavily disillusioned with the ideals he had been preaching. This resulted in 1971's "There's a Riot Goin' On," which featured elastic bass lines, slurred vocals, and a strong Black power stance that set the pace for funk, soul, and hip hop from that moment forward. "Riot..." is probably the best album from the group. Yes, it's downbeat, and yes, it's depressing, but damn, is it good. Check it out.

Lastly, my most recent 'discovery' was Ike and Tina Turner. I saw a re-run of "What's Love Got to Do With It (The Ike and Tina Turner story)" recently, and suddenly wanted to get some. I already had " 'Nuff Said," which I had found at the Record Graveyard in Hamtramck for a buck, but I needed something serious. I needed something visceral. While perusing the new stuff on Dusty Groove, I came across what seemed like the answer: "Funkier Than a Mosquito's Tweeter." This was a re-issue that came out in 2002 on EMI records. It's a compilation of the rockin' funk that Ike decided he wanted to play after touring with the Rolling Stones. There are 21 tracks total, including the title track, a cover of Led Zeppelin's "Whole Lotta Love," and a track from the Ikettes. All of this was recorded between 1969 and 1972, unfortunately, this was also the time that Tina was going through hell with Ike. Sad, but highly worth checking out.

This is by no means a definitive list of funk and soul, but it's a few things that I consider highly influential and important. Also worth looking into are the Chambers Brothers, Curtis Mayfield, the Staple Singers, Isaac Hayes, The Meters, War, the Isley Brothers, Johnny Otis and his son Shuggie Otis, Bobby Womack, Gino Washington, Andre Williams, Kidd Funkadelic, Eddie Hazel solo, Brides of Funkenstein, Caesar Frazer, Ray Charles, The Emeralds, anything produced by Gamble & Huff (Philly soul), Motown (of course), anything on Fortune or Telmay records, and Nolan Strong. It also wouldn't hurt to check out anything on Curtom Records, Stax Records, Volt Records (which eventually turned into Stax/Volt). There are also a few modern labels who have been re-issuing 'lost' or tragically forgotten soul and funk. Some of the more worthwhile modern labels are 4 Men With Beards, Soul Jazz, Acid Jazz, Cubop, and Ubiquity. There's no way I can list everything, but you can find all of this stuff at Dusty Groove, which I linked above.

I'm funk, and I'm proud!