Parliament-funkadelic Brass Construction

At Masonic Temple, June 20

Superprofunkafistikayshun wuz merely a dream at the recent Parliament/Funkadelic concert - more like Chocolate City squirmed for a final death gasp.

This writer wuz severely depressed with the hoodlum/jitterbug element haunting Masonic Temple on the eve of this "Black Rock Festival." After a twenty-minute see-saw hassle to enter the auditorium, due to frenzied thugs going on the wild at the entrance, I finally ventured inside & hurried to my seat, having missed the entire Bootsie Collins set. Bootsie, of course, is known for his Lp Stretching Out in a Rubber Band, but the same "stretching out" could be applied to the decadence that erupted thruout the remainder of the performances. The "disco maniaks" were really shitty in contrast to the thousands who came to enjoy the show.

Brass Constiuction preceded the outrageous P. Funk, and they got down-or at least they sincerely wanted to. Their repertoire was very tight, powerful and funkafying; it included "Dance" and "Talkin'," both taken from their first United Artists album, and the band was halfway thru "Movin'," their hit single, when a swarm of "diskotettes" invaded the stage and promptly began doing the whirlpool in front of the band, obstructing everyone else's view. During this prank an unknown object, either a bottle or a lit cigarette, wuz hurled at one of B.C.'s horn men and that automatically pissed the whole band off. The drummer threw his sticks on the floor and the entire band left the stage in total disgust.

Parliament-Funkadelic arrived unawares and delivered a pulsating funk number from their gold Casablanca album, Mothership Connection. As "unusual," the group' wuz attired as if ready to invade another planet: members had painted faces, half-nude, pants torn around the crotch and other funkadistik costumes. Lead singer and "maggot overlord" George Clinton strutted onstage decked out in an ermine-white garment, cluttered with large white rabbit tails extending from branch-like attachments. Wow, he even wore an absolutely freaky headgear to match. Stunning.

Not taking anything away from their costumes, but the muzik wuz sho 'nuff extra-terrestrial. Parlia-Funk blasted out with "I Betcha," drawing the "disko maniaks" to the stage again, and bringing out the security pcrsonnel. Minutes crept by until the Parlia-Funk erupted again, this time with the lites slightly dimmed. George ordered the rowdies to be kool while the band broke out with "Standing on the Verge of Getting It On," a truly compelling jam. Even so, the stage wuz repeatedly invaded by mindless hoods, who became much more sickening by the moment; firecrackers exploded, spectators were ripped off and assaulted, and it seemed a stone riot would break loose.

Satisfaction returned briefly as the band soared on "P. Funk," "Tear the Roof Off the Sueker" (which almost occurred) and the climactic "Get Off Your Ass & Jam." Otherwise there wuz a mismatch between the P. Funk & the "disko doggz," who found the allure of the stage quite tempting for their stupid antics. Credit must be given to Parlia-Funk for keeping the faith az long az they did.

While this concert wuz thoroughly exciting, it wuz also thoroughly pathetic. Parlia-Funk are surely "maggot brains" in some politikal sci-fi dream, but the real "maggots" were in the auditorium.