October 21st
Many artists expanded their minds with LSD experimentation during the 1960s. In the case of George Clinton and his Parliament and Funkadelic bandmates, the drug expanded more than that.
The thing about acid is that it ruins your stomach — it’s acid, after all,” he notes. “We were eating a lot of soul food at the time, too, so basically, we all spent hours in the bathroom and had more hemorrhoids than you could imagine.”
Clinton, 73, is not a man of secrets, which makes his memoir, Brothas Be, Yo Like George, Ain’t That Funkin’ Kinda Hard on You?” (out now), all the more entertaining. The funk pioneer has led a life that will make you laugh, cry and wince.
As a teenager in New Jersey, he formed a doo-wop group called the Parliaments. After a spell working as a songwriter for Motown in Detroit, Clinton fashioned his own form of funk through (the slightly renamed) Parliament and their psychedelic-influenced sister band Funkadelic (known collectively as P-Funk).
Part of P-Funk’s appeal was the live show: a surreal blend of musicians in outlandish costumes (including diaper-wearing guitarist Garry Shider), weed smoking aplenty and even a spaceship.
Clinton also devised an otherworldly lyrical mythology, featuring aliens and alter egos, such as Dr. Funkenstein and Sir Nose D’VoidofFunk. He incorporated these freakish characters into his offstage image, too — which backfired when it came to the ladies. In the book, he recalls the time a groupie in the 1970s announced her intention to sleep with a member of Funkadelic — before pointing to Clinton and saying, “But not you!”
“I used to wear stars in my hair, a jockstrap [outside my pants], all kinds of weird stuff,” he remembers. “I actually got freaked out when girls wanted me, because I figured they were weirder than me!”
He recalls getting upstaged one night in Oklahoma by a woman who waltzed onstage and proceeded to puff on a joint and blow smoke rings — out her butt. “It was a circus back then, and the fans were sometimes the performers,” he laughs now.
Drug use was common for a touring funk band during the 1970s, but for Clinton, it was crack that took the biggest toll. He once spent a night in jail with Sly Stone after being busted for possession in a Denny’s parking lot.
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I already pre-ordered the Carlos Santana one (due next month) and I can't wait to read this George Clinton book.
