Gloryhallastoopid! George Clinton, 07/22/41.

(A George Clinton tribute post is kinda insurmountable, like a James Brown or a Quincy Jones tribute post, when you're talkin bout his influence on all kinds of music and especially the rap kind of music. But this is my pitiful attempt.)

Your life without The Chronic, can you imagine? Your life without Parliament Funkadelic, imagine that too. That's like your life without something that's lovely and necessary and causes babies to be made, so that's basically like your life without hips--either having 'em (hi), lookin at 'em, or feelin on 'em. I know, I know--too sad to think about. (You can stop now.)

If the man above had never been born, I'm trying to tell you with my bloggy version of Scared Straight, we would have been denied Parliament, which would then have equaled a sad, empty little life without Dre and Quik and half of Outkast's catalog and Digital Underground and 73% of other West Coast rappers. Basically, it all would've been a cold, barren wasteland had George Clinton not entered it. This is why we count our blessings and do things like celebrate on our web log the birth of the weird old funk doctor.

"OH BOOTSY, this is fantastic but I can't help but wish that Logan were here to enjoy this with us."

I realize that the east is in the house, oh my god, but I have an impenetrable allegiance to the Golden State that is not so much about the fact that I was born/raised here but mostly about the fact that I am a devotee of Andre Young and have heard so much Parliament, Funkadelic, and Parliament Funkadelic coming out of the speakers of Impalas and Cutlasses driving in the California sunshine that I never ever would want to have grown up anywhere else. The music was made for cars, no? And also for getting naked.
Either way,
swing down, sweet chariot stop and let me ride.

Atomic dogs, flash lights, motherships, maggot brains, super duper kick-ass song titles I could never think of ("Jimmy's Got a Little Bit of Bitch in Him," C'MON). In closing, please do not be late in attending church HERE, children of the congregation; the preacher has many important messages to impart in today's sermon, as he is preoccupied and dedicated to the preservation of the motion of hips.
God bless cocaine, and God bless weed. God bless bass strings, amps, frets and black and white keys. God bless sweat. AMEN.

Pardon me, as I must go take my dress off now.




"I'll Bet You"


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which begat




which begat







PS - "Do That Stuff." Dizzy Gillespie plays a sax/Me myself I love to max.



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