Make It Funky
In Yo' Face! The History of Funk, Volumes 1-5.
Rhino Records, 1993
Funk, from that FUNky B.O. growing in your pits, from the stink between the sheets, with the bass bustin' out and the grooves hangin', ever-e-thang 'cept opera & polka, the visible line from Zapp to Zappa, gee-tars 'n' horns 'n' cong-Os and voices voices singin 'n' screamin 'n' chanting 'n' shouting.
The Bomb, the Fly, Shaft, and blaxploitation sending it up right through the nineteen hundred and seventies with our man Tricky Dick in the Whitest House in town, bellbottoms and Chocolate City across the street and to the right. Wer gonna have a funk-Y good time, free yer mind, and yer rearend will do th'followin'. Follow follow follow yer ass will follow and what a fine FAT ASS it is and BREAK to nineteen hundred and ninety-three disco is dead but now so is punk rock and glam rock and pop rock and self-righteous rock and freedom rock and even grunge rock. Memories are short, dreams die hard and here it comes FIVE CDs urging and perturbing that you GOT to make it FUNKY.
VOL. 1. Take it out, put it in, and turn it on and the Godfather Himself JB the MAN the HARDEST Working Man in Show Biz-nass the FOUNDING FATHER of funk James Brown..." Fellas I'm ready to get up and do my thang...I wanna get into it, man, you know, like a sex machine man. Moving, doing it, you know...can I count it off?" and BREAK into Sly & The Family Stone coming and Thanking You Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin and BREAK hangin with th'Parlifunkadelicacy thick groove hittin ya in your backside gang, doin it to ya in yer eardrum in 3D heavy thick and sweaty (no more meaty beaty big and bouncy) "I wanna know if it's good to you baby when you do what you do to me," know wad I mean, and BREAK and Groove Me and BREAK Get Up and Get Down and BREAK and Curtis Mayfield is still hangin tough cuz Freddie's Dead and BREAK babe-E I need to get down. For me to get down I got to get in deep. In deep. Down deep. Dog deep.
Mighty mighty...so let's take it to th'stage.
VOL. 2. What you gonna play now..."I do NOT know, but whatever it is, it's got to be funky" make it funky make it funky make it funky with the organs and the keys and th'BOOTsy. Some DYE-no-MITE three-piece (PEACE my brother, my mother, my man, my son myfunkyfreshfreak) checkered suits vest and all. Tell me Sly, bout somebody you just love to burn: you see it's in the blood. Acid laced and pinch-nez wah wahs, and then bye-bye to Tricky Dick and hello political, no Chuck D, but in yo' face, undermining society like none of Harvy-M's HOMOsexuals have done in years...and this is before the Village People. That's right, my funky crossdressin' freaky styly friends, my maggot brains, not only doing it in yer eardrum but sending you a Future Shock: "We GOT to STOP our men from messin up th' land."
BABE-Y, my honey, my sugar-coated Chaka Khan and the sax-ed UP moanin' & breathin' & shiverin' & shakin' with Rufus, wah-wahed whistled Tell Me Something Good "I have something that sure nuff should set yer stuff on fire," yer staff is higher, and she takes the shit SERIOUSLY, tell me that ya love ME. Tell me that ya love ME.
"When you wish upon a star, dreams will take you very far. You shining star, all movin' at once," Earth Wind and Fire and then finally arrive, make it down, everyone come to Chocolate City.
We did get you, C.C.
VOL. 3. Gong. Get down get down, Jungle Boogie, ooohhh aaahhhh Kool. Get get get get get down uhh. Wah wah ooh pop. One o' two to Patty Hearst and her friends the Sybionese Liberation Army, with head honcho himself Donald DeFrieze dancin' to Kool in his UNderWEAR. Wood blocks congos In Time mo' Sly. And suddenly, EW&F and JB and Sly and P-Funk and the AWB all soundin simiLAR and heaviER, NO MESS, ohh yeah, heavy snare and now HORN SECTIONS blowin' screamin' hot no hangin' back FO-ward again here hear here & IN YO' FACE. So dig this: "When we did wrong, papa beat the' hell out of us": Heavier and THICKer and ANGRYier.
Play That Funky Music. Play that play that play that funky music. From the Sophistocated Lady to the Sophistocated Bitch. Play play play that funky music WHITE BOY. I'm funkin' out in every way but now its so much better, so much better, and I'm funkin' out in every way. And now I'm dancin' & singin' & movin' to the groovin' so PLAY THAT FUNK-Y MUSIC WHITE BOY. HEH heh heh heh the lady is baaaad.
We were here before you felt the funk, and we will be here after the funky feeling is gone.
[INTERMISSION. Stop. Pause. Breath. Sleep. Eat. Listen again. And again and again and again and again. Try to figure out how many different albums you have with Parliament's Up For the Down Stroke on it. Praise Sly. Preach the eternal peace that comes with James. Sleep. Eat. Realize that you never would have heard Wild Cherry if not for this wonderful collection. Be happy. Listen again. And...]
VOL. 4. Whinin. Cryin. Whinin' 'n' cryin'. Take take me take me take me, If You Want Me To Stay. Sly SO slooowed down and laiiid back, smooth and no fast and furious, sly thick beats sounding like he's been ridin' a HORSE a horse of course of course unless its a SMACK and JB himself sounding...restrained? So here it comes, full-force Mothership, landing at a DISCO nearest you and now, twenty-years later still goin' down pickin' yer ass and then smellin' th' funky finger, right in yo' nose. From my ass to you. Achoo.
Smooth, smooth, silky, Ford's out and...Carter's in, and he's one motherfuckin' unfunky dude. No direction. No passion no power no point.
So from funky to freaky with friends takin' yo by the hand and leading you to Mars where we WANT the funk, we GOT TO HAVE that funk. No sir Sir Nose D'Voidof Funk. And psychadelics and psychadelia and even th'MOTHERS turn this mother out and acid laced and Acapulco Brick & 40 acres and a mule & hash for everyone. Casper the Holy Ghost and Bootsy's Rubber Band. Cartoons. Car toons. Car tunes.
Somebody been messin' with my funk. Somebody been sleepin with my funk.
VOL. 5. Slivering back to Sly, bang pop bang boom sliver slide shake that shake that Loose Booty, and we know why, slivering sax lines 'n' lines falsettos deep growls and we do know why that Loose Booty there's a reason Sly is on top, loose loose booty cuz he knows how to drive.
And then blow out up down left right man woman this a way and a that a way with you me and your momma from P-Funk: The Brides of Funkenstein, Bernie Worrell, George Duke 'n' mo', but George and th'boys keep grooo-vin'. But that's it. Tired out 'n' dried up 'n' re-producing 'n' re-packaging 'n' re-gurgitating 'n' re-jecting this volume Dis on th'brothers. Bustin' out o' th'groove.
CONCLUSION Run on down you maggot you punk you white-bread college-ed bored and ignored to the store with th'most music and give them yer money, honey, for volumes numeros one and two and one two three and get DOWN in yer Dunster suites with the thick grooves with the sweeties but skip skip skip on yer record player volumes four 'n' five.
We want to sing to you. We want your hips to move. We want your lips to move. So (wah wah) set yourself free. And remember: we GOT to make it FUNKY.