Another year, another plunge into the inspired world of funk music. This year has been both invigorating and frustrating because so much great funky music is being released, but the lack of recognition of the music outside of our funk networks is galling. Nowadays the funk is both everywhere and nowhere, as you cannot find any great funk release on the R&B or hip hop charts, but through our doo doo loops we often hear of killer music before it is even released. So if you want to find The Funk, here's some good starting points:
Ronkat Spearman’s Katdelic: D.O.T.M.S.
P-Funk guitarist sideman Ronkat Spearman left George Clinton’s touring group a few years back to concentrate on his own band and his own production and it has taken off in blazing fashion. Katdelic is a great experience live, but one of Ronkat’s greatest talents is songwriting, and he has put together a deep, diverse, thunderous, tender, sentimental and stylish celebration of the magnificence of The Funk. Utter funk slabs like “Oh Hi” and “Mackin’ with No Hands” are complimented by ever so groovy trips as “Drive Away,” “Change Generation” and the haunting tribute to Garry Shider: “Peace to You.” This disc is silly, serious, soaring, subtle and superior in every way. Bustin’ “Bob” Mitchell at The Funk Store.com wrote a spectacular review of the CD that I could not have said better myself. http://www.thefunkstore.com/CurrentCDs/JustTheFacts/CRNT_RonkatDOTMS2012_TFS.htm
Check this review here, or better yet, check the CD and you’ll see it is THE ONE for this year, and you will be Dancing on the Mothership.
Larry Graham and Graham Central Station: Raise Up!
FINALLY! Larry Graham is back with The Thunder and he’s here to let every body know what The Funk is all about. Graham has been in collaboration with Prince for a number of years, and it hasn’t always produced music that brings out the best of each artist. Raise Up! is the most Larry Graham-ish record in years! By far the best production quality of any record on this list, the record has that ole school Bay Area feel of atmospheric soul, and incredible bass tone that the REAL GCS was all about. Some of the surprise of this is taken away by Larry’s remakes of original GCS tunes like “It’s Alright” and “Ain’t No Fun to Me.” I’m not entirely sold on those, but the redo of “Now Do You Wanta Dance” is in another place altogether, and reconfigures the notion of 2000s funk in about 30 seconds of hump.
Ida Nielsen: Sometimes a Girl Needs Some Sugar Too
Formerly known as Bass-Ida, Prince’s astoundlingly funky bass player Ida Nielsen delivers a brilliant stomp fest here, with some vicious chops and an excellent range of moods to compliment her butt ripping bass slams. Listening to this set gives a clue as to why Prince has been getting so deep into the super strong funk sound nowadays. The hard funk tracks like “Feed Me” and “Rubber Toy in my Bathtub” and the title track are just the front lines to a nonstop slice of multiple mood funky heat from an underrated master of the craft.
GoGo Get Down Compiled By Joey Negro: Pure Ghetto Funk from Washington D.C.
This one brings it! The days of the wacky and badly mixed Go Go comps are finally over! 24 of the wildest, looniest, meanest and ghettoest 80s Go Go tracks ever put to disc shine here in this one of a kind celebration of the crank!! There are some tracks and some artists here that are fairly well known, but the true magic of this mix is the consistently grooving genius of Go Go street funk from the depths of the scene, captured and apparently remastered for a consistent mash of magnificent, endless funk joy! This came out just weeks before we lost Chuck Brown, and his legacy as the Godfater of Go Go shines brighter than ever here.
New Trinity Revolution: 9 and Zootzilla: To Lie With Wolves
These two discs are from P-funk styled Bay Area producer Phil “PTFI” Jones. PTFI keeps the groove slow, lean, tight, dirty and clean all at once. Both of these CD’s are in such a pocket that they should be listed together. Zootzilla is the lunatic George Clinton clone with the voice of a wild wolf in heat, and he growls and clowns over PTFI’s stomping bottom on each loony track. The bass goes off on “Long Gone Fishin” and Zoot just be clowinin’ on “Lord of the Wolves”. This is a nut case of crazy contemporary funky conduits, like “Parasite Dooky Drop” with George Clinton. The New Trinity Revolution is a slightly smoother PTFI project, with cleaner, meaner message music and stoopid thomps. PTFI is Phil the Funky Instrumentalist, and you get the real deal on songs like “Electrohipnoticbumpmusic” and “Funkin’ out of Time”. As serious as the groove gets, guests like George Clinton and Trey Lewd keep the nonsense factor higher than high, while guest Lil T, daughter of Dr. Illenstein, makes her case to keep Obama in the White House on “Letter to the President.”
Monophonics: In Your Brain
These bay area funk-rockers put a dirty 60’s rock feel into The Funk for 2012 and don’t miss anything. It is a throwback and blast forward all at once. This is that meeting of 60’s psychedelia and bottom heavy thump that we’ve been waiting for since 1972. Lead singer Kelly Finnigan has the look and sound of someone that played Woodstock and survived, and then did gigs at the Keystone Corner in Berkeley in 1971 fronting this band before time warping it to 2012.
D’Angelo: Live in Oslo
For years there has been a buzz about the new D’Angelo studio album, but no dice, no news, only cryptic teases. Then we started to hear stories of D’angelo’s magnificent live tour of Europe early in 2012. He had some great funk players with him, like Kendra Foster on vocals, Amp Fiddler on keys and Jesse Johnson on guitar. We kept seeing the great wobbly youtube posts of his tour, and were left to wonder how and when he would bring That Funk to the States. Then he returned and performed at a B.E.T. awards show, (a fantastic set) and toured – opening for Mary J Blige in a setting that wasted his growing funk legend. Meanwhile still no word about the new album. But lo and behold, his 2012 European tour was captured on a spectacular 2-disc set released in Europe. Everything you loved about D’Angelo is captured in full, thrilling effect on this disc. Why it was not released to great fanfare in the U.S. is a complete mystery because it is KILLER.
Danny Bedrosian’s Secret Army: Lost Froth
P-Funk keyboardist Danny Bedrosian’s Lost Froth is once again a brilliant mash a mug of his keyboard genius and soulful, jazzy song styling. Danny’s music takes you crazy places that sometimes you want to desperately stay in, and sometimes you want to get out of right away. Maybe anticipating this, Lost Froth features a crazy mix of some songs that are too short and some that are hella long. But once you take the plunge in the lunatic tripology, you’ll never want to climb out.
Lettuce: Fly
This Brooklyn based instrumental group once again packaged a lean and mean funky groove session that takes no prisoners and plays every song like it is their most important selection. Nonstop funk-jazz like it used to be done. Their cover of “Slippin into Darkness” is only the beginning of a deep tribute to the groove, including the killer “Let it Gogo”
Esperanza Spalding: Radio Music Society
The delightful bass playing prodigy (and dreamy vocalist) made her move toward R&B with her 4th album of exquisitely soulful jazz driven mellow groove music. She won the ‘best new artist’ Grammy Award in 2011 over the media favorite Justin Bieber, and her career has far more substance to it, regardless of her hit list. This album features some brilliant inspiring soul in the vein of Minnie Riperton, with tracks like “Black Gold” and “Cinnamon Tree” she clearly has a vision that needs to be heard. It is sad to me that she has so few contemporaries in the world of conscious, cool, positive black jazzy, soulful groove music.
On the hip hop front, Boots Riley's latest, "Sorry to Bother You" from The Coup is as wild as ever and pushes the boundaries of hip hop forward into headslamming conscious rage music, and the latest Public Enemy is doing an honorable job of reclaiming the roots of conscious rap, but the strate up funk connection is harder and harder to find in hip hop today. Maybe that's as it should be.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Monday, July 2, 2012
Return of The Soul Brother
I caught D’Angelo on the BET Awards the other night. (July 1). His set included a classic ballad of his, and a bouncing, funky groove from his new upcoming album. He played some mean piano, and cooked up the funk at the end with a jam that started to truly smoke, and just pushed aside the shallow pop dribblers in the audience. D’Angelo deliberately gave us multiple sides of this soul/funk master in effect. It was so so refreshing.
It is so important for a “Soul Singer” to re-emerge with the values of Soul, because the idea has been getting a bad wrap lately. When Barack Obama “Slow jammed the news” with Jimmy Fallon in April, it let us all know that, while Obama has his ‘race’ card fully intact, it also made a statement that the slow jam from a strong man is now an artifact, an item to be manipulated like a trinket at tourist trap gift shop.
Black popular music has been in bad shape for a number of years. It is not simply that people are not talented, well ok, a case can be made that the talent level of black popular artists of recent vintage has been lacking, but a larger issue has developed, one in which black male performers are caught in a creative vise grip, due to forces from within and without.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled to come across such young female firebrands as Ledisi, Goapele, and Jill Scott. The rise of mature black women such as Sharon Jones & her Dap Kings is heartwarming. Esperanza Spalding is a delight and a genius, and her incredible album “Radio Music Society” is a ray of hope for black popular music.
But I’ve been asking myself for years now, where are the brothers? Can a brotha sing with the raw power of Ledisi or the hypnotic allure of Esperanza Spalding or exotic passion of Goapele? For what its worth, the great female pop stars enjoy a range of styles and sounds in their works. Even Beyonce can do ballads as well as dancefloor burners.
The brothers? Well there have been some great lovermen, bedroom crooners like Eric Benet and the legendary Luther Vandross. But their range remains in the bedroom, as if they are capable of imagining nothing else. This is a problem.
To their credit, a wave of new black male vocalists is on the scene, trying to break out of the loverman image, and present themselves as thoughtful, original, entertainers. I’m not talking about the Bruno Mars clown show or the Chris Brown fiasco, but provocative and original black male singers like Bilal, Martin Luther, Van Hunt, Reggie Watts, Amp Fiddler, Dwele, and a long list of others.
Most of these self styled soul brothas do a fine job of working around a musical idea, of working around a groove, and working their emotions to make excellent songs of personal love and a greater social love.
But without attempting any disrespect, to my ear, most of their songs sound like Prince or Marvin Gaye b-sides. Not that this is a bad thing necessarily, but everyone is trying to be the next b-side balladeer. Where is the next Rick James? So much great soul music works around a soft side, but nobody wants to stand up and throw down!
As much as these fine neo-soul singers emulate the b-side material of Prince and Marvin Gaye and the ballads of Michael Jackson, it is as if they have forgotten that Prince and MJ would rip the dancefloor to pieces with their hot funky party jams. As much as Prince could create an intimate bedroom mood and writhe on the floor in intense passion, he is still just as capable of bringing that passion to the Funk, to the party music.
Dwele in the club? Bilal stomping the stage? Van Hunt doing some club moves? He tried on his second album, but just didn’t put it together. It is like they are all doing the ‘safe’ black male singing thing. The hard stuff, well, let’s face it, that’s the domain of the rappers.
As I see it, we all have abdicated a critical perspective on our young male artists, and simply allowed them to diverge into one of two characters: the hypermasculine hip hop male pimp-daddy clown, or the hyper-sexualized R&B man-servant. Where is the middle ground? In this formula, folks like R. Kelly show their ‘hardness’ by their ability to abuse and humiliate women, not in their abilities to rouse their passions in a dance.
My issue is this: to be a black male soul singer today, these artists are compelled to leave their masculinity at the door. One can be a lover, but not a fighter too.
You want to emulate some great black soul singing? Try the Isley Brothers’ “The Pride” or “Who’s That Lady” or “Fight the Power.” We all love Ronnie Isley, but he did far more than great love ballads. Everyone remembers the O’Jays ballads like “Cry Together” and “”Let Me Make Love to You” – because they get played on ‘quiet storm’ radio formats regularly - but they also scorched the dancefloor with the number one pop tune “I Love Music” and the legendary “For the Love of Money” was a funk classic. And while we regularly hear legendary Lionel Richie ballads like “Just to Be Close to You” and “Three Times A Lady,” people forget that he was singing in the Commodores at the time, and those same albums had bigger hits with dancefloor punishers “Fancy Dancer,” “Slippery When Wet” and “Brick House.”
But here’s my deal: almost all of these newbies are masters of the whispering/singing/whining bedroom tones that are the “standard” of black music nowadays. Van Hunt blew up in 2004 with an amazing debut album and the single “Seconds of Pleasure” and he’s been trying to figure out how to get past that image ever since.
The emasculation of the black male soul singer is a direct reflection of the fossilization of the black male image in the public imagination – as a rapper, as a thug, as a hip hop gangster – in a hoodie. Nothing confirms this pathetic state of the black male image more starkly thatn the wanton attack on black teenager Trayvon Martin, who was walking from a convenience store “in a hoodie” and therefore “looking suspicious.” The resultant harrasment, confrontation and murder of the Trayvon Martin is a direct result of the public image of the young black male as one of impossibly narrow characteristics: violent, criminal thug. Despite the fact that the Commander in Chief is an African Amerian who claims his son would ‘look like Trayvon” the fact remains that someone or some thing or some entity in our nation has fixated upon the black male and fixed in the national imagination a black man with narrow ideas, narrow values, and a presence to be feared.
This onslaught, while centuries in the making, can be disrupted, because it was disrupted in the past. For this to take place, black male entertainers can and must expand beyond their accepted ‘loverman’ stereotypes, and try to become spokespersons for a greater kind of love. John Legend made an admirable attempt in 2008 when he performed at the Democratic National Convention in Denver in support of Barack Obama’s nomination. He was joined by fellow stereotype distruptor Will.I.Am.
Unfortunately, black music after Obama’s election, like the movement that supported it, faded back to the standard status quo of pop nonsense, masculine blather and loverman overload.
Black artists and entertainers have a bound social contract with their community that they fail to adhere to when they narrow their voice to a simple stereotypical sound. This was and is the triumph of D’Angelo, to break through and destroy these stereotypes and present to the world a soulful black man.
This is why it is so important for artists like Martin Luther to expand beyond their love songs and become the psychedelic badass “Martian” Luther, with hard driving – indisputably masculine music – that showcases a range of black male musicality and masculinity, of vision and attraction, in complex ways.
This is why the return of D’Angelo is so important to the popular music scene, and to Black America overall. A creative tour de force, and a vibrant, masculine vigorous black man with ideas, vision and visceral magnetism has not been seen in the public domain in years. With the death of Barry White, of the Godfather of Soul James Brown, the passing of Teddy Pendergrass, the murder of Marvin Gaye, the suicide of Donny Hathaway, the deaths of Johnny “Guitar” Watson, Phillipe Wynne of the Spinners, Joe Tex, Eddie LaVert and so many others, the broad minded black male has become a forgotten commodity in the American commercial culture.
D’Angelo represents so much more. He is a card carrying funkateer, with a repertoire of ballads and hard driving funk and thoughtful, spiritual soul that makes all the connections. The connections that the Original Soul Prophets – Stevie Wonder, Curtis Mayfield, Donny Hathaway, Al Green, Sly, Aretha et al, were capable of doing on a regular basis.
D’angelo frames his work on his own, referencing Sly Stone, Jimi Hendrix, James Brown, the Isley Brothers and George Clinton, as well as Prince and Marvin Gaye. His presence is as masculine as any of the rappers, yet his emotionality is a deep as any of the crooners. These were the traits of the original soul masters, capable of exuding masculinity and embracing their feminine side in a fearless expression of love of the human condition. This is where the black male soul singers need to go, so we can return to a sense of unity within our music and ourselves.
It is so important for a “Soul Singer” to re-emerge with the values of Soul, because the idea has been getting a bad wrap lately. When Barack Obama “Slow jammed the news” with Jimmy Fallon in April, it let us all know that, while Obama has his ‘race’ card fully intact, it also made a statement that the slow jam from a strong man is now an artifact, an item to be manipulated like a trinket at tourist trap gift shop.
Black popular music has been in bad shape for a number of years. It is not simply that people are not talented, well ok, a case can be made that the talent level of black popular artists of recent vintage has been lacking, but a larger issue has developed, one in which black male performers are caught in a creative vise grip, due to forces from within and without.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled to come across such young female firebrands as Ledisi, Goapele, and Jill Scott. The rise of mature black women such as Sharon Jones & her Dap Kings is heartwarming. Esperanza Spalding is a delight and a genius, and her incredible album “Radio Music Society” is a ray of hope for black popular music.
But I’ve been asking myself for years now, where are the brothers? Can a brotha sing with the raw power of Ledisi or the hypnotic allure of Esperanza Spalding or exotic passion of Goapele? For what its worth, the great female pop stars enjoy a range of styles and sounds in their works. Even Beyonce can do ballads as well as dancefloor burners.
The brothers? Well there have been some great lovermen, bedroom crooners like Eric Benet and the legendary Luther Vandross. But their range remains in the bedroom, as if they are capable of imagining nothing else. This is a problem.
To their credit, a wave of new black male vocalists is on the scene, trying to break out of the loverman image, and present themselves as thoughtful, original, entertainers. I’m not talking about the Bruno Mars clown show or the Chris Brown fiasco, but provocative and original black male singers like Bilal, Martin Luther, Van Hunt, Reggie Watts, Amp Fiddler, Dwele, and a long list of others.
Most of these self styled soul brothas do a fine job of working around a musical idea, of working around a groove, and working their emotions to make excellent songs of personal love and a greater social love.
But without attempting any disrespect, to my ear, most of their songs sound like Prince or Marvin Gaye b-sides. Not that this is a bad thing necessarily, but everyone is trying to be the next b-side balladeer. Where is the next Rick James? So much great soul music works around a soft side, but nobody wants to stand up and throw down!
As much as these fine neo-soul singers emulate the b-side material of Prince and Marvin Gaye and the ballads of Michael Jackson, it is as if they have forgotten that Prince and MJ would rip the dancefloor to pieces with their hot funky party jams. As much as Prince could create an intimate bedroom mood and writhe on the floor in intense passion, he is still just as capable of bringing that passion to the Funk, to the party music.
Dwele in the club? Bilal stomping the stage? Van Hunt doing some club moves? He tried on his second album, but just didn’t put it together. It is like they are all doing the ‘safe’ black male singing thing. The hard stuff, well, let’s face it, that’s the domain of the rappers.
As I see it, we all have abdicated a critical perspective on our young male artists, and simply allowed them to diverge into one of two characters: the hypermasculine hip hop male pimp-daddy clown, or the hyper-sexualized R&B man-servant. Where is the middle ground? In this formula, folks like R. Kelly show their ‘hardness’ by their ability to abuse and humiliate women, not in their abilities to rouse their passions in a dance.
My issue is this: to be a black male soul singer today, these artists are compelled to leave their masculinity at the door. One can be a lover, but not a fighter too.
You want to emulate some great black soul singing? Try the Isley Brothers’ “The Pride” or “Who’s That Lady” or “Fight the Power.” We all love Ronnie Isley, but he did far more than great love ballads. Everyone remembers the O’Jays ballads like “Cry Together” and “”Let Me Make Love to You” – because they get played on ‘quiet storm’ radio formats regularly - but they also scorched the dancefloor with the number one pop tune “I Love Music” and the legendary “For the Love of Money” was a funk classic. And while we regularly hear legendary Lionel Richie ballads like “Just to Be Close to You” and “Three Times A Lady,” people forget that he was singing in the Commodores at the time, and those same albums had bigger hits with dancefloor punishers “Fancy Dancer,” “Slippery When Wet” and “Brick House.”
But here’s my deal: almost all of these newbies are masters of the whispering/singing/whining bedroom tones that are the “standard” of black music nowadays. Van Hunt blew up in 2004 with an amazing debut album and the single “Seconds of Pleasure” and he’s been trying to figure out how to get past that image ever since.
The emasculation of the black male soul singer is a direct reflection of the fossilization of the black male image in the public imagination – as a rapper, as a thug, as a hip hop gangster – in a hoodie. Nothing confirms this pathetic state of the black male image more starkly thatn the wanton attack on black teenager Trayvon Martin, who was walking from a convenience store “in a hoodie” and therefore “looking suspicious.” The resultant harrasment, confrontation and murder of the Trayvon Martin is a direct result of the public image of the young black male as one of impossibly narrow characteristics: violent, criminal thug. Despite the fact that the Commander in Chief is an African Amerian who claims his son would ‘look like Trayvon” the fact remains that someone or some thing or some entity in our nation has fixated upon the black male and fixed in the national imagination a black man with narrow ideas, narrow values, and a presence to be feared.
This onslaught, while centuries in the making, can be disrupted, because it was disrupted in the past. For this to take place, black male entertainers can and must expand beyond their accepted ‘loverman’ stereotypes, and try to become spokespersons for a greater kind of love. John Legend made an admirable attempt in 2008 when he performed at the Democratic National Convention in Denver in support of Barack Obama’s nomination. He was joined by fellow stereotype distruptor Will.I.Am.
Unfortunately, black music after Obama’s election, like the movement that supported it, faded back to the standard status quo of pop nonsense, masculine blather and loverman overload.
Black artists and entertainers have a bound social contract with their community that they fail to adhere to when they narrow their voice to a simple stereotypical sound. This was and is the triumph of D’Angelo, to break through and destroy these stereotypes and present to the world a soulful black man.
This is why it is so important for artists like Martin Luther to expand beyond their love songs and become the psychedelic badass “Martian” Luther, with hard driving – indisputably masculine music – that showcases a range of black male musicality and masculinity, of vision and attraction, in complex ways.
This is why the return of D’Angelo is so important to the popular music scene, and to Black America overall. A creative tour de force, and a vibrant, masculine vigorous black man with ideas, vision and visceral magnetism has not been seen in the public domain in years. With the death of Barry White, of the Godfather of Soul James Brown, the passing of Teddy Pendergrass, the murder of Marvin Gaye, the suicide of Donny Hathaway, the deaths of Johnny “Guitar” Watson, Phillipe Wynne of the Spinners, Joe Tex, Eddie LaVert and so many others, the broad minded black male has become a forgotten commodity in the American commercial culture.
D’Angelo represents so much more. He is a card carrying funkateer, with a repertoire of ballads and hard driving funk and thoughtful, spiritual soul that makes all the connections. The connections that the Original Soul Prophets – Stevie Wonder, Curtis Mayfield, Donny Hathaway, Al Green, Sly, Aretha et al, were capable of doing on a regular basis.
D’angelo frames his work on his own, referencing Sly Stone, Jimi Hendrix, James Brown, the Isley Brothers and George Clinton, as well as Prince and Marvin Gaye. His presence is as masculine as any of the rappers, yet his emotionality is a deep as any of the crooners. These were the traits of the original soul masters, capable of exuding masculinity and embracing their feminine side in a fearless expression of love of the human condition. This is where the black male soul singers need to go, so we can return to a sense of unity within our music and ourselves.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Notes from the Jimmy Castor Memorial
On Sunday March 4th I went to the Memorial for Jimmy Castor. Jimmy Castor was “The Everything Man” and one of my Super Funky heroes. In 2010 I was able to get to know Jimmy Castor and his son Jimmy Jr. and had the privilege of helping to facilitate Jimmy’s performance at the Long Beach Funk Fest, which would turn out to be his last live performance.
The Brooklyn native, Jimmy Castor grew up with members of Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers, and Jimmy wound up singing doo wop professionally while still in Junior High School. Some of his compositions, like “I Promise to Remember” are as fresh today as they were in the 1950s. For reasons that still mystify and amaze me, Jimmy Castor immersed himself in Latin Soul in the 1960, and generated some musical buzz with his 1966 hit “Hey Leroy Your Mama’s Calling You.” Jimmy was equally at home singing doo wop, playing blistering timbales solos and clave on the cowbell, or playing soul jazz on the saxophone.
But he’s best known for his outrageous cavemen characters and novelty funk hits in the 1970s, some which are hip hop break beat classics. Stompers like “Troglodyte,” “King Kong,” “Dracula,” “Space Age” and “The Bertha Butt Boogie” were standards of the funk fans of my generation. How one artist could attain a mastery of such a wide palate of music was one reason why Jimmy Castor is the brilliant genius legend that he is, and one reason why he’s often passed over when the greats are mentioned.
Jimmy Castor moved to Las Vegas over ten years ago, and found a niche playing his old school sounds with a band that was versatile enough to keep up with his un-matchable creative range. At The Bootlegger bistro, south of the Las Vegas strip, a stirring range of stars came out to pay tribute to the E-Man, Jimmy Castor. The legendary doo wop singer, latin soul maestro, and thumpasorus funkmaster was given a proper tribute that only few could have pulled off.
The energy of the place was vibrant, full of color and life. Like Jimmy would have liked it. Jimmy’s daughter introduced the proceedings with a heartfelt tribute that also showed her Brooklyn accent, and a street sense that many of us had come to know through Jimmy’s body of work.
Jimmy’s son Jayson Castor starting things off with a wild rendition of “E Man Boogie” that showed that the fruit didn’t fall to far from the tree. Jayson had many of the mannerisms and the wickedly sassy style of his dad. Then one by one a series of performers came on stage to sing selections of Jimmy’s catalog. Avis Harrell sang “Everything is Beautiful to Me” one of Jimmy’s overlooked midtempo tunes from his funk days. Then the surprises really began to take off: Jimmy’s bandleader “Marinaro,” who handled the entire showcase brilliantly, introduced Louis Lymon, who’s name didn’t ring a bell, until he got on stage in a super snazzy white 3 piece suit, and started singing in perfect pitch like his brother Frankie Lymon! Louis Lymon then did some of those super smooth do wop dance steps that let everyone know how much STYLE there was back in the day, and where a lot of break dancing came from. I was transfixed by Louis Lymon, and how fresh he was after 50 years. I also realized that there was a contingent of extremely snappily dressed soul brothas and sistas in the house, wearing loud colors that bounced off the multicolored lights of The Bootlegger bistro that nite.
As a string of artists took the stage to do renditions of doo wop; of Jimi’s jazzy instrumentals; of Jimmy’s blistering Latin percussion driven music, and of his killer funk jams, an unmistakable sensation overcame me: that it takes a dozen people to put together the musical catalog of this one man. The Everything Man, Jimmy Castor! It was both exhilarating and so bittersweet.
Little Anthony of Little Anthony and the Imperials came up, fresh of a cross country flight, to describe life growing up with Jimmy Castor. And two of his original Jimmy Castor Bunch band members were there, including bass player Paul Forney, and Elwood Henderson, the one mentioned in one of Jimmy’s wildest funk masterpieces of soul rap, “Potential!” Elwood and Forney got on stage and represented that funk exquisitely.
During the break, a musician I didn’t recognize sitting in front of me said “I wish I could get a tribute like this when I go.” Something this diverse, where a singer could be doing a Dean Martin standard, following the “Bertha Butt Boogie,” well, only The E Man could make this happen.
By the time bandleader Mariano Longo brought up Las Vegas singer Sonny Charles to belt out Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” it was clear that this event was one for the ages. But there was still some of Jimmy’s biggest 70’s hits to be reprised. I had begun to wonder, how was this to be done at the level of the rest of the evenings proceedings? After Sonny Charles, the polish and elegance of the band, of the event, of the properly honored legacy was just overwhelming. But how do take it home?
Didn’t have to wait long to find out. The next artist to be announced was none other than FLAVA FLAV! Flava came out on stage to give some love, complete with his clock and sideways cap, and gave it up for Jimmy as only he could: “Yo G, I just want to say that Jimmy Castor is one of my musical heroes G, and his music is what the deejays all used at the start of hip hop” Flava then ran down a list of his favorite Jimmy Castor Bunch jams, and described a hilarious chance meeting with Jimmy Castor in a Wal Mart parking lot.
Then Flav announced that his jam – his all time jam - started with, “What we gonna do now is go back, way back, back into time!” The band got the signal and kicked into a rendition of “Troglodyte” and Flava Flave performed the entire song: “Cave men! Cave Women” "Her name was Bertha1 Berthat Butt! One of the Butt Sisters!” Tha whole 9. Flava Flav broght the house down – doo wop singers, Vegas band regulars, everyone got a taste of the attitude that is needed to bring Jimmy castor’s funk to life!
And if that wasn’t enough, Jayson Castor followed up, leading the band in a rendition of “It’s Just Begun,” while the Rock Steady Crew did their moves in the center of the dancefloor!
Jimmy Castor was given a fitting tribute. I was honored to be a part of it. Thanks to Jimmy Castor Jr for making sure this ole funkateer got to the spot and checked out what a tribute to a giant is all about.
The Brooklyn native, Jimmy Castor grew up with members of Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers, and Jimmy wound up singing doo wop professionally while still in Junior High School. Some of his compositions, like “I Promise to Remember” are as fresh today as they were in the 1950s. For reasons that still mystify and amaze me, Jimmy Castor immersed himself in Latin Soul in the 1960, and generated some musical buzz with his 1966 hit “Hey Leroy Your Mama’s Calling You.” Jimmy was equally at home singing doo wop, playing blistering timbales solos and clave on the cowbell, or playing soul jazz on the saxophone.
But he’s best known for his outrageous cavemen characters and novelty funk hits in the 1970s, some which are hip hop break beat classics. Stompers like “Troglodyte,” “King Kong,” “Dracula,” “Space Age” and “The Bertha Butt Boogie” were standards of the funk fans of my generation. How one artist could attain a mastery of such a wide palate of music was one reason why Jimmy Castor is the brilliant genius legend that he is, and one reason why he’s often passed over when the greats are mentioned.
Jimmy Castor moved to Las Vegas over ten years ago, and found a niche playing his old school sounds with a band that was versatile enough to keep up with his un-matchable creative range. At The Bootlegger bistro, south of the Las Vegas strip, a stirring range of stars came out to pay tribute to the E-Man, Jimmy Castor. The legendary doo wop singer, latin soul maestro, and thumpasorus funkmaster was given a proper tribute that only few could have pulled off.
The energy of the place was vibrant, full of color and life. Like Jimmy would have liked it. Jimmy’s daughter introduced the proceedings with a heartfelt tribute that also showed her Brooklyn accent, and a street sense that many of us had come to know through Jimmy’s body of work.
Jimmy’s son Jayson Castor starting things off with a wild rendition of “E Man Boogie” that showed that the fruit didn’t fall to far from the tree. Jayson had many of the mannerisms and the wickedly sassy style of his dad. Then one by one a series of performers came on stage to sing selections of Jimmy’s catalog. Avis Harrell sang “Everything is Beautiful to Me” one of Jimmy’s overlooked midtempo tunes from his funk days. Then the surprises really began to take off: Jimmy’s bandleader “Marinaro,” who handled the entire showcase brilliantly, introduced Louis Lymon, who’s name didn’t ring a bell, until he got on stage in a super snazzy white 3 piece suit, and started singing in perfect pitch like his brother Frankie Lymon! Louis Lymon then did some of those super smooth do wop dance steps that let everyone know how much STYLE there was back in the day, and where a lot of break dancing came from. I was transfixed by Louis Lymon, and how fresh he was after 50 years. I also realized that there was a contingent of extremely snappily dressed soul brothas and sistas in the house, wearing loud colors that bounced off the multicolored lights of The Bootlegger bistro that nite.
As a string of artists took the stage to do renditions of doo wop; of Jimi’s jazzy instrumentals; of Jimmy’s blistering Latin percussion driven music, and of his killer funk jams, an unmistakable sensation overcame me: that it takes a dozen people to put together the musical catalog of this one man. The Everything Man, Jimmy Castor! It was both exhilarating and so bittersweet.
Little Anthony of Little Anthony and the Imperials came up, fresh of a cross country flight, to describe life growing up with Jimmy Castor. And two of his original Jimmy Castor Bunch band members were there, including bass player Paul Forney, and Elwood Henderson, the one mentioned in one of Jimmy’s wildest funk masterpieces of soul rap, “Potential!” Elwood and Forney got on stage and represented that funk exquisitely.
During the break, a musician I didn’t recognize sitting in front of me said “I wish I could get a tribute like this when I go.” Something this diverse, where a singer could be doing a Dean Martin standard, following the “Bertha Butt Boogie,” well, only The E Man could make this happen.
By the time bandleader Mariano Longo brought up Las Vegas singer Sonny Charles to belt out Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” it was clear that this event was one for the ages. But there was still some of Jimmy’s biggest 70’s hits to be reprised. I had begun to wonder, how was this to be done at the level of the rest of the evenings proceedings? After Sonny Charles, the polish and elegance of the band, of the event, of the properly honored legacy was just overwhelming. But how do take it home?
Didn’t have to wait long to find out. The next artist to be announced was none other than FLAVA FLAV! Flava came out on stage to give some love, complete with his clock and sideways cap, and gave it up for Jimmy as only he could: “Yo G, I just want to say that Jimmy Castor is one of my musical heroes G, and his music is what the deejays all used at the start of hip hop” Flava then ran down a list of his favorite Jimmy Castor Bunch jams, and described a hilarious chance meeting with Jimmy Castor in a Wal Mart parking lot.
Then Flav announced that his jam – his all time jam - started with, “What we gonna do now is go back, way back, back into time!” The band got the signal and kicked into a rendition of “Troglodyte” and Flava Flave performed the entire song: “Cave men! Cave Women” "Her name was Bertha1 Berthat Butt! One of the Butt Sisters!” Tha whole 9. Flava Flav broght the house down – doo wop singers, Vegas band regulars, everyone got a taste of the attitude that is needed to bring Jimmy castor’s funk to life!
And if that wasn’t enough, Jayson Castor followed up, leading the band in a rendition of “It’s Just Begun,” while the Rock Steady Crew did their moves in the center of the dancefloor!
Jimmy Castor was given a fitting tribute. I was honored to be a part of it. Thanks to Jimmy Castor Jr for making sure this ole funkateer got to the spot and checked out what a tribute to a giant is all about.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
RV's Favorite Funk of 2011
Here’s my favorite funky music of 2011:
1. DENNIS COFFEY: Dennis Coffey
Any way you slice it, funk guitar master Dennis Coffey has put together the best jam session the year. Coffey’s mastery of pocket and groove, his nasty nasty high energy chops, his choice of killer guest musicians and badass songs to cover, all put together to smack the lightweight funksters off their perch. The hooks on tracks like “Space Traveler” and “Plutonius” just can’t be touched. So so many people are trying to do some 60’s retro (see Raphael Saadiq) and in some cases pulling it off, but 70’s funk retro is the hardest sheet to hit with. Dennis Coffey sounds like he did in 1972 with “Scorpio,” only better! No wasted tracks, no shallow detours. Thru and thru the best funk record of 2011.
2, BOOTSY COLLINS: Tha Funk Capitol of The World
We all know Bootzilla the most talented funky brutha alive, and the undisputed Number One Funkateer of All Time Baba! And he has produced a masterpiece that will stand the test of time. Some of the songs, like “JB-Still The Man,” and “The Jazz Greats” are incredible. His new album is a brilliant montage of music lessons and clean pockets of funk interspersed with vocal vamps from the likes of Dr. Cornel West, Samuel Jackson, Al Sharpton and others. That’s the only problem with this disc. As a “funk lesson” it is one of the most important recordings of the century (do not sleep on the Jim Henrdrix tribute “Mirrors Tell Lies”), but as a free-flowing funk spectacle you can listen all the way thru, it feels too standardized and market driven. Where’s the “Sloppy Seconds” funk blowout ? We know Bootsy can do this because his holiday album Christmas is For Ever from 2006 is a freeform Rubber Band ripping funkblast, not a tamed hip hop hopeful overproduction that this new disc often gives the taste of. But you still gotta love it. If this disc gets Bootsy onto Letterman, on the X Factor, on 106th & Park, onto Sesame Street as a household name, then it will be all worth it…My question is this: does this disc get Bootsy closer to hosting a Super Bowl halftime show? Yeah I said it.
3. ORIGINAL 7VEN: Condensate
The Original Seven here are the original Morris Day and The Time! Yes I mean THE originals, that means Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis, Jesse Johnson, Jellybean, Jerome, the whole band bringing it all back! Prince owned the name, but he couldn’t contain the funk in this set. The band provides a mastery of all those Minneapolis sounds, the two-stepping pop, the nu-wave rockin’, the nasty ballads, the lean and slick strutting funk jams, and Morris’ over the top ego tripping are all in the finest form – in years. My only issue is that some of the grooves are so tight that I’d like to hear one of those 8, 9, ten minute versions. Morris Day and the band hasn’t changed, and you can take that for what it is. They bring their flava back in full glory.
4. PTFI: Who The Funk is PTFI?
Who is PTFI? Phil Jones is Phil The Funky Instrumentalist, and he has been laying down some of the thickest funk tracks around the Bay Area for years. His work on the Zootzilla album P’n All Over the Place, and Dr. Illinstine’s CD last year Listen While I Tell You Of The Clones made it clear that some serious phunk in the bay is getting some serious production quality to boot. Check out "Beware of the Sample Troll" and "Everywhere there's a lack of funkin'" and you'll get it. Phil the PTFI has produced tracks for the new Ronkat and the Katdelic album, which is going to be one of the major funk releases of 2012. But until then, this thumpasorus set will put The Funk straight.
5. ZIGABOO MODELISTE: New Life
Far and away Zigaboo’s best solo album, and he’s had some good ones! Legendary New Orleans funk drummer Zigaboo Modeliste combines some great Mardi Gras jammies with some brick-cracking funk tracks that all tell a story in Zig’s patented soulful way. “New Life,” “Human Race” and “Keep on Groovin’” let the world know that Zig is as fresh as ever, and his great ballad “Holiday Kiss” shows he’s still got the sentimental chops. But what really kicks this CD over the top is how often and how well Zigaboo features his own phenomenal drumming on the tracks. On earlier records Zig was emphasizing his songwriting, but he has finally broken out with a true solo album from The Meters drummer we always wanted to hear.
6. OSAKA MONAURAIL: State of The World
A straight up deep JB’s pocket is what these Japanese bruthas bring once again on their latest. But these pockets are killer, deep funk grooves that would make Fred and Maceo proud. Their sense of style and appreciation for the JB’s entire presentation is evident here, and on covers like “Mother Popcorn” and “Ain’t it Funky Now,” but the real meat is on their own compositions like “The Archipelago” and “Syrinxology” that just hold it and hit it the way it is sposed to be done. Recorded and released in Japan, presumably since the terrible earthquake/tsunami/radioactive disaster there, this funk packet can only help folks there and everywhere get over the hump.
7. CHARLES WRIGHT: That Funky Thang
My homie the legendary Charles Wright gets back to business as only he can, with some sloppy stanky irrestible freestyle funkin’ all his own! A set of delicious dance grooves with CW’s own silly lyrics and stoney delivery make the entire record a delight. This is what people love about the funk, but have long forgotten how to get there. Charles Wright never left, and he will take you there if you follow him.
8. BIG OL’ NASTY GETDOWN: Volume 1
One of the most diverse records on the list, the Big Ol Nasty Getdown features big helpings of southern fried funk, with some deep ballads and crazee rapping tossed in. Their meat is the monster funk riffs on “College Funk,” “Room 2012” and “Platinum” but the band has an indescribably delicious self made sound, that one can feel across a multitude of styles, from metal funk blasting to laid back balladeering. This is no gimmick. They are big, they are nasty and they get down.
9. HEADHUNTERS: Platinum
Drummer Mike Clark took the name and produced his own very entertaining trip through jazz funk and hip hop crossover. There are a few “remakes” of classic Herbie Hancock’s Headhunters era material, like “Palm Nut” and “Salamander” that give the sound some familiarity while moving the jazz-funk fusion flavor into the future. Some guest rappers include Snoop Dogg, who vamps on hanging in the San Francisco Bay Area on “D-Funk (funk with us)” The mix of rap and slick jazz funk has its moments, and is worth a listen but this might be one of those CD’s you pluck the grooves you want and skip the others. Usually those releases don’t make my list, but the music is so strong you won’t be able to ignore it.
10. GOAPELE: Break of Dawn
Bay area soul vocalist put together her tightest, strongest and funkiest album so far. An ethereal sound permeates the music here, as her band captures an exotic, futuristic yet deeply soulful atmosphere for the gifted singer to explore. Goapele digs deeper and and delivers with more passion than on any of her earlier albums, and she kicks up a dance groove on more than a few of them. It is a self-contained slice of Bay Area soul genius that one should not pass up, whether a funk fan or not.
Other interesting music this year: Me’Shell NdegeOcello’s brilliant Weather, Raphael Saadiq’s Rolling Stones homage Stone Rolling, Martin Luther’s self released disc Extra Terrestrial Brother Vol. 1, (you gotta go to martinluthermccoy.com to find it), Steve Arrington's work on Stone's Throw (where's the album?!), and my homie Bobby Easton’s band Delta Nove, Imaginary Conversations. There was a time when some hip hop made my funky top 10 list, maybe that time has passed.
One thing I noticed about these releases is that they generally stick to around 10 tracks, sometimes less. They can make their point and not overload their listeners with a sense of quantity over quality, and I think other artists should heed this. Make sure the music you are doing is the best it can be, not simply as many tracks as you can muster. There are also a lot of O.G.’s on this list. They are showing up and representing, showing the young bucks how to do it, and I hope more will do just that. As for the P-Funk, there is a taste of it from PTFI, and Dennis Coffey does a couple of mean Funkadelic covers, and you can get some Pee from the Bootsy album, although he’s clearly trying to reach other audiences beyond the Maggot Brains that inhabit that zone of zeep funk.
1. DENNIS COFFEY: Dennis Coffey
Any way you slice it, funk guitar master Dennis Coffey has put together the best jam session the year. Coffey’s mastery of pocket and groove, his nasty nasty high energy chops, his choice of killer guest musicians and badass songs to cover, all put together to smack the lightweight funksters off their perch. The hooks on tracks like “Space Traveler” and “Plutonius” just can’t be touched. So so many people are trying to do some 60’s retro (see Raphael Saadiq) and in some cases pulling it off, but 70’s funk retro is the hardest sheet to hit with. Dennis Coffey sounds like he did in 1972 with “Scorpio,” only better! No wasted tracks, no shallow detours. Thru and thru the best funk record of 2011.
2, BOOTSY COLLINS: Tha Funk Capitol of The World
We all know Bootzilla the most talented funky brutha alive, and the undisputed Number One Funkateer of All Time Baba! And he has produced a masterpiece that will stand the test of time. Some of the songs, like “JB-Still The Man,” and “The Jazz Greats” are incredible. His new album is a brilliant montage of music lessons and clean pockets of funk interspersed with vocal vamps from the likes of Dr. Cornel West, Samuel Jackson, Al Sharpton and others. That’s the only problem with this disc. As a “funk lesson” it is one of the most important recordings of the century (do not sleep on the Jim Henrdrix tribute “Mirrors Tell Lies”), but as a free-flowing funk spectacle you can listen all the way thru, it feels too standardized and market driven. Where’s the “Sloppy Seconds” funk blowout ? We know Bootsy can do this because his holiday album Christmas is For Ever from 2006 is a freeform Rubber Band ripping funkblast, not a tamed hip hop hopeful overproduction that this new disc often gives the taste of. But you still gotta love it. If this disc gets Bootsy onto Letterman, on the X Factor, on 106th & Park, onto Sesame Street as a household name, then it will be all worth it…My question is this: does this disc get Bootsy closer to hosting a Super Bowl halftime show? Yeah I said it.
3. ORIGINAL 7VEN: Condensate
The Original Seven here are the original Morris Day and The Time! Yes I mean THE originals, that means Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis, Jesse Johnson, Jellybean, Jerome, the whole band bringing it all back! Prince owned the name, but he couldn’t contain the funk in this set. The band provides a mastery of all those Minneapolis sounds, the two-stepping pop, the nu-wave rockin’, the nasty ballads, the lean and slick strutting funk jams, and Morris’ over the top ego tripping are all in the finest form – in years. My only issue is that some of the grooves are so tight that I’d like to hear one of those 8, 9, ten minute versions. Morris Day and the band hasn’t changed, and you can take that for what it is. They bring their flava back in full glory.
4. PTFI: Who The Funk is PTFI?
Who is PTFI? Phil Jones is Phil The Funky Instrumentalist, and he has been laying down some of the thickest funk tracks around the Bay Area for years. His work on the Zootzilla album P’n All Over the Place, and Dr. Illinstine’s CD last year Listen While I Tell You Of The Clones made it clear that some serious phunk in the bay is getting some serious production quality to boot. Check out "Beware of the Sample Troll" and "Everywhere there's a lack of funkin'" and you'll get it. Phil the PTFI has produced tracks for the new Ronkat and the Katdelic album, which is going to be one of the major funk releases of 2012. But until then, this thumpasorus set will put The Funk straight.
5. ZIGABOO MODELISTE: New Life
Far and away Zigaboo’s best solo album, and he’s had some good ones! Legendary New Orleans funk drummer Zigaboo Modeliste combines some great Mardi Gras jammies with some brick-cracking funk tracks that all tell a story in Zig’s patented soulful way. “New Life,” “Human Race” and “Keep on Groovin’” let the world know that Zig is as fresh as ever, and his great ballad “Holiday Kiss” shows he’s still got the sentimental chops. But what really kicks this CD over the top is how often and how well Zigaboo features his own phenomenal drumming on the tracks. On earlier records Zig was emphasizing his songwriting, but he has finally broken out with a true solo album from The Meters drummer we always wanted to hear.
6. OSAKA MONAURAIL: State of The World
A straight up deep JB’s pocket is what these Japanese bruthas bring once again on their latest. But these pockets are killer, deep funk grooves that would make Fred and Maceo proud. Their sense of style and appreciation for the JB’s entire presentation is evident here, and on covers like “Mother Popcorn” and “Ain’t it Funky Now,” but the real meat is on their own compositions like “The Archipelago” and “Syrinxology” that just hold it and hit it the way it is sposed to be done. Recorded and released in Japan, presumably since the terrible earthquake/tsunami/radioactive disaster there, this funk packet can only help folks there and everywhere get over the hump.
7. CHARLES WRIGHT: That Funky Thang
My homie the legendary Charles Wright gets back to business as only he can, with some sloppy stanky irrestible freestyle funkin’ all his own! A set of delicious dance grooves with CW’s own silly lyrics and stoney delivery make the entire record a delight. This is what people love about the funk, but have long forgotten how to get there. Charles Wright never left, and he will take you there if you follow him.
8. BIG OL’ NASTY GETDOWN: Volume 1
One of the most diverse records on the list, the Big Ol Nasty Getdown features big helpings of southern fried funk, with some deep ballads and crazee rapping tossed in. Their meat is the monster funk riffs on “College Funk,” “Room 2012” and “Platinum” but the band has an indescribably delicious self made sound, that one can feel across a multitude of styles, from metal funk blasting to laid back balladeering. This is no gimmick. They are big, they are nasty and they get down.
9. HEADHUNTERS: Platinum
Drummer Mike Clark took the name and produced his own very entertaining trip through jazz funk and hip hop crossover. There are a few “remakes” of classic Herbie Hancock’s Headhunters era material, like “Palm Nut” and “Salamander” that give the sound some familiarity while moving the jazz-funk fusion flavor into the future. Some guest rappers include Snoop Dogg, who vamps on hanging in the San Francisco Bay Area on “D-Funk (funk with us)” The mix of rap and slick jazz funk has its moments, and is worth a listen but this might be one of those CD’s you pluck the grooves you want and skip the others. Usually those releases don’t make my list, but the music is so strong you won’t be able to ignore it.
10. GOAPELE: Break of Dawn
Bay area soul vocalist put together her tightest, strongest and funkiest album so far. An ethereal sound permeates the music here, as her band captures an exotic, futuristic yet deeply soulful atmosphere for the gifted singer to explore. Goapele digs deeper and and delivers with more passion than on any of her earlier albums, and she kicks up a dance groove on more than a few of them. It is a self-contained slice of Bay Area soul genius that one should not pass up, whether a funk fan or not.
Other interesting music this year: Me’Shell NdegeOcello’s brilliant Weather, Raphael Saadiq’s Rolling Stones homage Stone Rolling, Martin Luther’s self released disc Extra Terrestrial Brother Vol. 1, (you gotta go to martinluthermccoy.com to find it), Steve Arrington's work on Stone's Throw (where's the album?!), and my homie Bobby Easton’s band Delta Nove, Imaginary Conversations. There was a time when some hip hop made my funky top 10 list, maybe that time has passed.
One thing I noticed about these releases is that they generally stick to around 10 tracks, sometimes less. They can make their point and not overload their listeners with a sense of quantity over quality, and I think other artists should heed this. Make sure the music you are doing is the best it can be, not simply as many tracks as you can muster. There are also a lot of O.G.’s on this list. They are showing up and representing, showing the young bucks how to do it, and I hope more will do just that. As for the P-Funk, there is a taste of it from PTFI, and Dennis Coffey does a couple of mean Funkadelic covers, and you can get some Pee from the Bootsy album, although he’s clearly trying to reach other audiences beyond the Maggot Brains that inhabit that zone of zeep funk.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Can't Stop Won't Stop Herbie Hancock!
I just watched one of the greatest concerts of my life. I went to the Herbie Hancock show at Zellebach Auditorium at UC Berkeley on Wednesday night (9-21-11), expecting little more than a polite jazz quartet, playing some of Herbie Hancock’s 60’s standards and some of his modal jazz work with Miles Davis. Of course I have been a devout follower of Herbie Hancock since his days with the Headhunters band, a ferocious funk-jazz outfit that produced massively mind-bending Afro-futurist electronic funk back in the 70s, decades ahead of its time. I was thrilled in the 1980s when Herbie Hancock discovered hip hop beats, and jumped headfirst into electro-funk production, and won his first Grammy Award in 1984 with “Rockit!” I saw him perform at the Greek Theater at Cal in 1986 with the Rockit band (with Steel Pulse opening up), and Herbie’s band going through some incredible sonic fusions of funk, hip hop, rock, afrobeat and bop jazz. His music then was high tech and mindblowing, but after each thunderous song, he would politely say “thank you, this next song is….” His stage demeanor didn’t match the epic sonic and cultural onslaught that his music meant to me in 1986, and I felt then that maybe he was a quiet jazzman at heart, that just dabbled around in musical exploration.
Over the years, Herbie Hancock has ‘dabbled’ in some incredible collaborations, and made some extremely popular music, winning “Album of the Year” Grammy award in 2008 for River: The Joni Letters, beating out such acts as Amy Winehouse and Kanye West. He had come on tour in the past with the Headhunters, specifically playing his funky future-beats, he tours completely solo, and he had come to town with just a straight ahead jazz combo.
So I was left to wonder, which Herbie Hancock would show up at Zellerbach that night? It was simply billed as “jazz” with Herbie Hancock on piano. I had not heard of any of his backing musicians, a drummer, bassist and guitarist.
The night began with the band walking out one by one, hitting a dirty free jazz riff that sounded like “Actual Proof,” one of Herbie’s legendary Headhunters era fusion workouts. That is exactly what they did. Herbie kept burning, and bassist James Genus would burn with him. After one song, Herbie came out front from his keyboard perch – that had more than a grand piano, it had a small keyboard (I thought I saw the iconic MOOG label on it) as well as a computer screen and some other goodies.
Herbie began joking with the audience, and took his time to introduce each member of his band. Here was an artist not only a master of his craft, but a master of the stage and a master of the audience as well. I had seen Miles Davis in the same venue in the 1980s, and while the show was phenomenal, Miles never said a word the entire night.
Herbie was having a ball letting us know that his personality was as fun as his music was. He went into a long discussion of his classic “Watermelon Man” and how there are two versions of it, and his guitar player Lionel Loueke (a native of Benin, a small country bordering Nigeria) wrote an original composition (in 17/4 time he said) and that they were going to mix that into the song as well.
That is precisely what they did. The song had a brilliant funk feel, a strong blues tone, some wild African influences, and then the ridiculous time changes Herbie warned us about. As the jam heated up, Herbie reached around and put on his strap on mobile keyboard, and walked in front of the stage to let the synthesizer rip – in a thunderous give and take with the bass, as they cranked out what seemed like a 20 minute jazz-funk party jam.
This was no acoustic jazz combo, this was a funk masterpiece performed at full throttle by a Master Of His Craft with some untouchable protégés in the mix with him.
That set a tone that I did not think could be matched or exceeded, but Herbie is NO JOKE. He introduced his guitarist again, and left the stage while Lionel Lueke did an indescribably brilliant piece of African (click) vocalizing, percussive and melodic guitar work at the same time, and just blew all our minds all by himself.
When the band came back, they hit into a punishing funk jazz groove that I did not recognize, and could barely handle. The riffing was so hard, the bass thump was so relentless, the soloing was so mindblowing, it was clear that Herbie was in territory NOBODY ALIVE can match. The music had an intensity only matched – I said only matched -- by George Clinton’s band during their 7 day stay in the Bay in July.
That is how strong the jam factor was. And I was convinced that Bootsy Collins’ visit to the Fillmore in June was the best concert of the year, until George Clinton did his week of noise at Yoshi’s. But here comes Herbie Hancock with a list of funk credentials that can stand up to any funk-master, and Herbie comes from the jazz side of things to RIP THE SH*T OUF THE JAM.
I had passes to this show because I was invited to be on a panel with two jazz experts who loved and still live with Herbie from his modal jazz mode. On the panel earlier that day I claimed that I felt that “all of herbie’s musical explorations were sincere to him” but conceded that a night of polite dinner jazz might be in store. Oops.
I did say Herbie connects all of the genres of improvisational music, from hard bop to hip hop and beyond, but I did not believe that he would do this all in one night.
After the thunder jam, Herbie and the drummer Vinnie Colaiuta and bass player Genus delivered some hot and heavy free jazz that just burned the stage up. This is where the drummer starts channeling Tony Williams. It was hard to imagine what was happening – as it was really happening – as the collective improvisation and relentless rhythm fire would not stop, and the three sustained a pocket that is rare for any jazz giant – then or now. I have seen artists like Branford Marsalis and Joshua Redman, who enjoy the collective improvisation of free jazz and cut loose now and then, but they wouldn’t heat it up. To cook a high intensity freeform jam and keep it there like Herbie did, that is out there with Michael Hampton’s Maggot Brain for sustained intensity. There I said it.
After that, I was stretched out. Herbie had me in the palm of his hand. The band left, and Herbie proceeded to play an improvised love song on the grand piano. It sounded like he was making the entire thing up as he went, ‘freestyling’ a thing of beauty. That’s exactly what it was, beauty, put to music, plain and simple. Herbie doesn’t play ‘wrong’ notes. He can jam the most wicked ‘out’ jazz, or cuddle up with a warm melody, but everything he plays has that essential love element in it. Herbie just doesn’t go sour.
The band came back and breathed fire into a version of “Cantaloupe Island” that was anything but the gentle Caribbean feeling romp that it is on the record. Before I knew it he had saluted the audience and was heading offstage. We brought them all back of course, and the band got started on “Chameleon.” Herbie walked out last, with his strap on “keytar” and proceeded to get down and funky with that thing. After grooving on some synthesizer trickery, he reset the thing to play samples and voice bytes, like James Brown chants, and proceeded to give us a hip hop mixtape live with his jazz band. And Herbie didn’t just play funky, he was funky, letting it all out and getting a little wiggle (waggle) going as he grooved on.
No other artist alive is capable of reaching this much of a range of great sounds and styles of music and make it smoke, let alone own it as part of his own catalog. But Herbie can. And for what it’s worth, the entire show was basically from the Funk side of things. Yes it was a (deceptively) billed as a jazz concert, but Herbie came with The Funk, brought The Funk, and delivered The Funk, peeriod.
Herbie showed his jazz audience just how fundamentally The Funk is the heir to the throne of improvisational music; and he showed his hip hop/ electrofunk audience precisely where all of those (funky) rhythmic sensibilities come from. He gave a music lesson across 60 years of black traditions, and kept it On The One. This is THE Herbie Hancock to see, no matter what style of Herbie you may have come to know him from. And especially if you see on the bill the players James Genus on bass, Lionel Loueke on guitar, and Vinnie Colaiuta on drums, drop what you are doing and get a ticket to that show.
Over the years, Herbie Hancock has ‘dabbled’ in some incredible collaborations, and made some extremely popular music, winning “Album of the Year” Grammy award in 2008 for River: The Joni Letters, beating out such acts as Amy Winehouse and Kanye West. He had come on tour in the past with the Headhunters, specifically playing his funky future-beats, he tours completely solo, and he had come to town with just a straight ahead jazz combo.
So I was left to wonder, which Herbie Hancock would show up at Zellerbach that night? It was simply billed as “jazz” with Herbie Hancock on piano. I had not heard of any of his backing musicians, a drummer, bassist and guitarist.
The night began with the band walking out one by one, hitting a dirty free jazz riff that sounded like “Actual Proof,” one of Herbie’s legendary Headhunters era fusion workouts. That is exactly what they did. Herbie kept burning, and bassist James Genus would burn with him. After one song, Herbie came out front from his keyboard perch – that had more than a grand piano, it had a small keyboard (I thought I saw the iconic MOOG label on it) as well as a computer screen and some other goodies.
Herbie began joking with the audience, and took his time to introduce each member of his band. Here was an artist not only a master of his craft, but a master of the stage and a master of the audience as well. I had seen Miles Davis in the same venue in the 1980s, and while the show was phenomenal, Miles never said a word the entire night.
Herbie was having a ball letting us know that his personality was as fun as his music was. He went into a long discussion of his classic “Watermelon Man” and how there are two versions of it, and his guitar player Lionel Loueke (a native of Benin, a small country bordering Nigeria) wrote an original composition (in 17/4 time he said) and that they were going to mix that into the song as well.
That is precisely what they did. The song had a brilliant funk feel, a strong blues tone, some wild African influences, and then the ridiculous time changes Herbie warned us about. As the jam heated up, Herbie reached around and put on his strap on mobile keyboard, and walked in front of the stage to let the synthesizer rip – in a thunderous give and take with the bass, as they cranked out what seemed like a 20 minute jazz-funk party jam.
This was no acoustic jazz combo, this was a funk masterpiece performed at full throttle by a Master Of His Craft with some untouchable protégés in the mix with him.
That set a tone that I did not think could be matched or exceeded, but Herbie is NO JOKE. He introduced his guitarist again, and left the stage while Lionel Lueke did an indescribably brilliant piece of African (click) vocalizing, percussive and melodic guitar work at the same time, and just blew all our minds all by himself.
When the band came back, they hit into a punishing funk jazz groove that I did not recognize, and could barely handle. The riffing was so hard, the bass thump was so relentless, the soloing was so mindblowing, it was clear that Herbie was in territory NOBODY ALIVE can match. The music had an intensity only matched – I said only matched -- by George Clinton’s band during their 7 day stay in the Bay in July.
That is how strong the jam factor was. And I was convinced that Bootsy Collins’ visit to the Fillmore in June was the best concert of the year, until George Clinton did his week of noise at Yoshi’s. But here comes Herbie Hancock with a list of funk credentials that can stand up to any funk-master, and Herbie comes from the jazz side of things to RIP THE SH*T OUF THE JAM.
I had passes to this show because I was invited to be on a panel with two jazz experts who loved and still live with Herbie from his modal jazz mode. On the panel earlier that day I claimed that I felt that “all of herbie’s musical explorations were sincere to him” but conceded that a night of polite dinner jazz might be in store. Oops.
I did say Herbie connects all of the genres of improvisational music, from hard bop to hip hop and beyond, but I did not believe that he would do this all in one night.
After the thunder jam, Herbie and the drummer Vinnie Colaiuta and bass player Genus delivered some hot and heavy free jazz that just burned the stage up. This is where the drummer starts channeling Tony Williams. It was hard to imagine what was happening – as it was really happening – as the collective improvisation and relentless rhythm fire would not stop, and the three sustained a pocket that is rare for any jazz giant – then or now. I have seen artists like Branford Marsalis and Joshua Redman, who enjoy the collective improvisation of free jazz and cut loose now and then, but they wouldn’t heat it up. To cook a high intensity freeform jam and keep it there like Herbie did, that is out there with Michael Hampton’s Maggot Brain for sustained intensity. There I said it.
After that, I was stretched out. Herbie had me in the palm of his hand. The band left, and Herbie proceeded to play an improvised love song on the grand piano. It sounded like he was making the entire thing up as he went, ‘freestyling’ a thing of beauty. That’s exactly what it was, beauty, put to music, plain and simple. Herbie doesn’t play ‘wrong’ notes. He can jam the most wicked ‘out’ jazz, or cuddle up with a warm melody, but everything he plays has that essential love element in it. Herbie just doesn’t go sour.
The band came back and breathed fire into a version of “Cantaloupe Island” that was anything but the gentle Caribbean feeling romp that it is on the record. Before I knew it he had saluted the audience and was heading offstage. We brought them all back of course, and the band got started on “Chameleon.” Herbie walked out last, with his strap on “keytar” and proceeded to get down and funky with that thing. After grooving on some synthesizer trickery, he reset the thing to play samples and voice bytes, like James Brown chants, and proceeded to give us a hip hop mixtape live with his jazz band. And Herbie didn’t just play funky, he was funky, letting it all out and getting a little wiggle (waggle) going as he grooved on.
No other artist alive is capable of reaching this much of a range of great sounds and styles of music and make it smoke, let alone own it as part of his own catalog. But Herbie can. And for what it’s worth, the entire show was basically from the Funk side of things. Yes it was a (deceptively) billed as a jazz concert, but Herbie came with The Funk, brought The Funk, and delivered The Funk, peeriod.
Herbie showed his jazz audience just how fundamentally The Funk is the heir to the throne of improvisational music; and he showed his hip hop/ electrofunk audience precisely where all of those (funky) rhythmic sensibilities come from. He gave a music lesson across 60 years of black traditions, and kept it On The One. This is THE Herbie Hancock to see, no matter what style of Herbie you may have come to know him from. And especially if you see on the bill the players James Genus on bass, Lionel Loueke on guitar, and Vinnie Colaiuta on drums, drop what you are doing and get a ticket to that show.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
The End of Space
Last month the final space shuttle mission ended with Atlantis touching down in the dark of night, a fitting image for the end of the U.S. manned space program. It doesn’t seem to register much on the national scale of issues to be concerned with, but it has been hanging on me for a while.
As a kid, I watched all the Star Trek episodes (on a tiny black & white TV, I didn’t know Star Trek was in color until 1976), and followed the US space program with the idealism and enthusiasm of a kid that believed that space “colonization” was just around the corner.
I watched in awe when the 1969 Stanley Kubrick film 2001: A Space Space Odyssey showed a gigantic spinning space wheel in orbit, as a shuttle slowly docks with the massive station as classical music plays in the background. On the station, the lead character makes a ‘telephone call’ to his daughter from orbit, on a video phone that seemed so far ahead of its time, yet now is commonplace.
The infinite possibilities offered by the Apollo moon landings from 1969-72 gave a lot of us idealists the impression that space travel was the next frontier, and that all other space ventures were variations on that theme of exploration, and “advance” of the human condition in some way. This has always been problematic of course, and Gil Scott Heron deconstructed the situation the best on his song “Whitey on the Moon.” I was thrilled to hear that song, but I was also still excited about the prospects of human space flight.
In the stoned out 70s I got into the psychedelic music. Jimi’s “Third Stone From the Sun,” Sun Ra’s “Space is the Place” and of course the Mothership Connection. I remember when George Clinton chanted “We have returned to claim the pyramids” and it seemed like an outerspace encounter was right around the corner. If you count the cosmology of P-Funk, and their “specially designed Afro-nauts capable of funkatizing galaxies” it seemed like this kind of thang was gonna be hella cool.
This was still years before the blockbuster Star Wars film would come out and deposit a space based mythology on a new generation. But I never doubted as a teen that we would all at some point have a chance to touch the sky, and look down upon the round home of earth from above it.
In college I hustled my way into Cal through a math/science recruitment program as an Astronomy major. I was way into space by then. I went so far as to go to the ROTC office and ask point blank if their program had a pipeline for the space program. For someone that grew up in anti-war Berkeley and had actually participated in anti ROTC protests, that was an extreme, very creepy event, that also put an end to my lofty space ideas.
After that, I settled on more terrestrial pursuits, like playing the funk.
“A Slow Death”
From the first space disaster the space shuttle Challenger explosion in 1986 to today, the US space program has been bleeding a slow death, and the landing of Atlantis was basically the final curtain. It is not the complete end, because private enterprises, and other countries, especially Russia today and most likely China in the future, will be taking this space exploration thing to the next level, presumably to Mars. Maybe in my lifetime. Maybe not.
Maybe we shouldn’t care, but as one science fiction writer put it, space travel ensures our immortality as a human race, in case something calamitous should happen to our home planet earth, we would still be out there. Maybe we don’t deserve to outlive our planet, but that is for another blog in another century I figure. But it may never come to that.
One of the hitches to all the science fiction I watched, and all of the heavy lifting the early space program did, was in the real world of human spaceflight, they had a helluva time getting off of earth, out of earth’s gravitational pull. That problem has yet to be solved, and the costs and dangers have not really been improved in 50 years of trying.
Another sad turn of events is the fact that it still takes months and months to get from one planet to another. The moon is just a few days away, but Venus and Mars, take many months, and Jupiter or Saturn we’re still talking about years. Either way you are in for a long haul.
I was really intrigued watching the intro to the film Avatar, when they said a crew took 6 years to get to the star where the lush, jungle moon Pandora was located. That was compelling science fiction, and will probably lead to even more in the sequel, when we can presume a 12 year round trip to and from that place.
But if one does the math - and it gets wild here – this is a big problem. If we assume that Pandora is located orbiting the nearest star to us, Alpha Centauri, which is 4.5 light years away, and it took 6 years to get there, then we are presuming that the spaceship was capable of traveling at 3/4ths the speed of light. Not accounting for all the relativistic effects (a 6 year flight experience on the ship, but at home decades would pass), there is a presumption that humans can get going to speeds near light speed.
This is so far from human capability right now. At the rate of our fastest ships known to man, it would take 10,000 years to reach the nearest star. Period. The idea that human spaceflight is in our future is not just years away it is starting to look impossible.
But I’ve started to look at some other issues. What if there were some forms of bug life in our solar system? This brings up the question of contamination. This one goes back as far as HG well’s novel “War of the Worlds” in 1898. In that tale of Martians attacking earth, the invaders finally succumb to the germs that abound on our planet, as there was no immunity to them.
In a similar vein, scientists have had to face the prospect that if and when we come across a potential bed of biomass, or even organic molecules that might become life forms one day, it is logical to reason that there is no way we could go and scoop a spoonful of this stuff and analyze it without dropping a few molecules of our own germs on them, potentially creating a ghastly hybrid creation like the movie The Thing.
This issue already has the scientific community in a bind. There was a recent discovery of a pristine underground lake beneath Antarctica. It is such a pure specimen of million years old ecology that there is a conundrum with sending a probe down into it. We would presumably contaminate the lake with 2011 DNA. As a result, scientists from all countries of the world have agreed to a moratorium on exploration of the lake until a fail safe means of examining the lake without contaminating it can be found.
This has implications because a similar situation is in Saturn’s moon Titan. An icy surface is believed to have an ocean underneath it, possibly heated by the moon’s core. This is the most enticing possible home for extra terrestrial life we can reasonably reach. But how do we send a probe down there without mixing earth microbes with the life there? Or does it matter?
Either way the idea of ‘beaming down’ to a planet getting dirty and like Captain Kirk, getting it on with the alien females and then leaving the planet like nothing was done, well, that is a myth of major proportions.
So there it is, we not only are not flying into space, may never know space travel, and have major questions about what to do if an when we find even other microbes, let alone animate life forms – or Pandora-like humanoids… But some of us are dreamers, and we must dream.
So what about all of the visitors we seem to keep getting? All of the alien abduction stories, the many many unexplainable lights in the sky all around the world, maybe we are being visited. All I can say to that is, we must surely look like a population unworthy of membership in the galactic community, And if we don’t qualify for membership, I hope we’re not roadkill on some galactic superhighway, As I’ve said before, I hope they like The Funk.
As a kid, I watched all the Star Trek episodes (on a tiny black & white TV, I didn’t know Star Trek was in color until 1976), and followed the US space program with the idealism and enthusiasm of a kid that believed that space “colonization” was just around the corner.
I watched in awe when the 1969 Stanley Kubrick film 2001: A Space Space Odyssey showed a gigantic spinning space wheel in orbit, as a shuttle slowly docks with the massive station as classical music plays in the background. On the station, the lead character makes a ‘telephone call’ to his daughter from orbit, on a video phone that seemed so far ahead of its time, yet now is commonplace.
The infinite possibilities offered by the Apollo moon landings from 1969-72 gave a lot of us idealists the impression that space travel was the next frontier, and that all other space ventures were variations on that theme of exploration, and “advance” of the human condition in some way. This has always been problematic of course, and Gil Scott Heron deconstructed the situation the best on his song “Whitey on the Moon.” I was thrilled to hear that song, but I was also still excited about the prospects of human space flight.
In the stoned out 70s I got into the psychedelic music. Jimi’s “Third Stone From the Sun,” Sun Ra’s “Space is the Place” and of course the Mothership Connection. I remember when George Clinton chanted “We have returned to claim the pyramids” and it seemed like an outerspace encounter was right around the corner. If you count the cosmology of P-Funk, and their “specially designed Afro-nauts capable of funkatizing galaxies” it seemed like this kind of thang was gonna be hella cool.
This was still years before the blockbuster Star Wars film would come out and deposit a space based mythology on a new generation. But I never doubted as a teen that we would all at some point have a chance to touch the sky, and look down upon the round home of earth from above it.
In college I hustled my way into Cal through a math/science recruitment program as an Astronomy major. I was way into space by then. I went so far as to go to the ROTC office and ask point blank if their program had a pipeline for the space program. For someone that grew up in anti-war Berkeley and had actually participated in anti ROTC protests, that was an extreme, very creepy event, that also put an end to my lofty space ideas.
After that, I settled on more terrestrial pursuits, like playing the funk.
“A Slow Death”
From the first space disaster the space shuttle Challenger explosion in 1986 to today, the US space program has been bleeding a slow death, and the landing of Atlantis was basically the final curtain. It is not the complete end, because private enterprises, and other countries, especially Russia today and most likely China in the future, will be taking this space exploration thing to the next level, presumably to Mars. Maybe in my lifetime. Maybe not.
Maybe we shouldn’t care, but as one science fiction writer put it, space travel ensures our immortality as a human race, in case something calamitous should happen to our home planet earth, we would still be out there. Maybe we don’t deserve to outlive our planet, but that is for another blog in another century I figure. But it may never come to that.
One of the hitches to all the science fiction I watched, and all of the heavy lifting the early space program did, was in the real world of human spaceflight, they had a helluva time getting off of earth, out of earth’s gravitational pull. That problem has yet to be solved, and the costs and dangers have not really been improved in 50 years of trying.
Another sad turn of events is the fact that it still takes months and months to get from one planet to another. The moon is just a few days away, but Venus and Mars, take many months, and Jupiter or Saturn we’re still talking about years. Either way you are in for a long haul.
I was really intrigued watching the intro to the film Avatar, when they said a crew took 6 years to get to the star where the lush, jungle moon Pandora was located. That was compelling science fiction, and will probably lead to even more in the sequel, when we can presume a 12 year round trip to and from that place.
But if one does the math - and it gets wild here – this is a big problem. If we assume that Pandora is located orbiting the nearest star to us, Alpha Centauri, which is 4.5 light years away, and it took 6 years to get there, then we are presuming that the spaceship was capable of traveling at 3/4ths the speed of light. Not accounting for all the relativistic effects (a 6 year flight experience on the ship, but at home decades would pass), there is a presumption that humans can get going to speeds near light speed.
This is so far from human capability right now. At the rate of our fastest ships known to man, it would take 10,000 years to reach the nearest star. Period. The idea that human spaceflight is in our future is not just years away it is starting to look impossible.
But I’ve started to look at some other issues. What if there were some forms of bug life in our solar system? This brings up the question of contamination. This one goes back as far as HG well’s novel “War of the Worlds” in 1898. In that tale of Martians attacking earth, the invaders finally succumb to the germs that abound on our planet, as there was no immunity to them.
In a similar vein, scientists have had to face the prospect that if and when we come across a potential bed of biomass, or even organic molecules that might become life forms one day, it is logical to reason that there is no way we could go and scoop a spoonful of this stuff and analyze it without dropping a few molecules of our own germs on them, potentially creating a ghastly hybrid creation like the movie The Thing.
This issue already has the scientific community in a bind. There was a recent discovery of a pristine underground lake beneath Antarctica. It is such a pure specimen of million years old ecology that there is a conundrum with sending a probe down into it. We would presumably contaminate the lake with 2011 DNA. As a result, scientists from all countries of the world have agreed to a moratorium on exploration of the lake until a fail safe means of examining the lake without contaminating it can be found.
This has implications because a similar situation is in Saturn’s moon Titan. An icy surface is believed to have an ocean underneath it, possibly heated by the moon’s core. This is the most enticing possible home for extra terrestrial life we can reasonably reach. But how do we send a probe down there without mixing earth microbes with the life there? Or does it matter?
Either way the idea of ‘beaming down’ to a planet getting dirty and like Captain Kirk, getting it on with the alien females and then leaving the planet like nothing was done, well, that is a myth of major proportions.
So there it is, we not only are not flying into space, may never know space travel, and have major questions about what to do if an when we find even other microbes, let alone animate life forms – or Pandora-like humanoids… But some of us are dreamers, and we must dream.
So what about all of the visitors we seem to keep getting? All of the alien abduction stories, the many many unexplainable lights in the sky all around the world, maybe we are being visited. All I can say to that is, we must surely look like a population unworthy of membership in the galactic community, And if we don’t qualify for membership, I hope we’re not roadkill on some galactic superhighway, As I’ve said before, I hope they like The Funk.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Me'Shell NdegeOcello does Prince
Review of Me’Shell NdegeOcello’s set of Prince songs, 3/11/11 @ the New Parish.
If there was ever a hot east bay show to catch, the Me’Shell show of Prince covers is it. Anyone that knows the music of Prince knows that there is an endlessly interesting, freaky, original and entertaining supply of awesome tracks to choose from, but only a MASTER has any business trying to take them on.
How many artists have done good Prince covers? I can count ‘em on one hand. But now Me’Shell has done exactly what a funkateer would like to see done, a truly polished treatment of Prince that captured all of the Artist’s uniquely intimate sexuality and emotional intensity, while bringing the raw power of The Funk to kick it into a new gear. That is what Me’Shell did, and probably no one else in the biz could do.
After Martin Luther did a set of far reaching Beatles covers that I thoroughly enjoyed (but the crowd may not have recognized), The exotic, ethnic, original Oakland audience milled about in full color, waiting for their hero…
Me’Shell had a quartet of funk geniuses, with drummer Deantoni Parks, guitarist Chris Bruce, and keyboardist Keefus Ciancia that all understood the requirements of Prince’s music.
The quartet had a perfect sense of the tone needed to deal with the exotic arrangements of Prince properly, and the eerie keyboard work (from an original MOOG synthesizer and some other keys) captured the spacey emotional techno tone of early 80’s Prince.
She began with Pop Life, and just hung every word out to delicious effect. Then she got into a thumping party groove and did Irresistible Bitch which sent me over the top. The audience wasn’t as familiar with that track, a one-off single from back in the day, but it is most definitely part of Prince’s legend.
Then Me’Shell began a light version of “I Wanna Be Your Lover” by just singing it, but you could tell the tone of the band was going to escalate, and when Me’Shell picked up her bass and brought the thump, she hit the most exquisitely erotic rock hard THUMP I’ve heard since Bootsy Collins came this way.
IT was clear from the third track that despite Me’shell’s affection for all of Prince’s many delights as a soul piercing songwriter, this show provided Me’Shell with more freedom to RIP throbbing funk riffs all night.
While there were some disruptions to get their sound right, there was nothing missing when they got cranking, and the band kept things just a silly millameter slower than the record, so the delicious grooves – sometimes overlooked by the shrill vocals and guitars of Prince’s most recognizeable songs – can just be soaked in in full intensity.
After an utterly throbbing version of Controversy, She said ‘now that I finished the standard issue, I’m going to cut loose’ She then did a warped version of Dirty Mind, turning it into a metal mash.
Her rendition of Annie Christian was brilliant, and at the end, she just casually quipped ‘Prince was more interesting before he found Jehovah” which caused a surprising amount of groans from the audience. Me’Shell was clearly surprised by the reaction, and tried to joke about it. I suspect she figured the Oakland crowd would be far more "post-Christian" in their sensibilities.
The new Prince generation of fans may have another perspective on the Purple One than those of us that experienced his music as it happened in the 80’s. Me’Shell clearly did, saying that she “Loved Prince” and that “he changed my life” which I think a lot of people share, but nobody and I mean nobody has been able to DO Prince properly in the past 30 years until Me’Shell did. Hands down.
Me'Shell was clearly one of the many folks that caught one of Prince's Oakland concerts in February, and got inspired. I was definitely one of them, and felt blessed to see one of our generation's greatest acts giving it up for Oaktown, for Larry Graham and for Sheila E, and the Bay Area. Me'Shell took it one step further.
From my vantage point as a P-Funker that appreciates Prince but always wondered what would happen if Prince’s music acquired some Thunder Thumbs type of bottom, how much Ultimate Phunk would be unleashed? Well, Me’Shell did EXACTLY THAT, and then some.
This funky generation is FINALLY doing its homework, studying the deep jams in all their intricacy and liquified attitudinal genius, and then blasting them out with a brand new tone. The Roots & John Legend did this with Soul last year. Folks is WAY beyond sampling riffs, they are digging deep. Much Respect to Me'Shell for showing the way.
Props to the folks at the New Parish for making this happen. Some days it is a blessing to be into The Funk, and to be in Oakland.
If there was ever a hot east bay show to catch, the Me’Shell show of Prince covers is it. Anyone that knows the music of Prince knows that there is an endlessly interesting, freaky, original and entertaining supply of awesome tracks to choose from, but only a MASTER has any business trying to take them on.
How many artists have done good Prince covers? I can count ‘em on one hand. But now Me’Shell has done exactly what a funkateer would like to see done, a truly polished treatment of Prince that captured all of the Artist’s uniquely intimate sexuality and emotional intensity, while bringing the raw power of The Funk to kick it into a new gear. That is what Me’Shell did, and probably no one else in the biz could do.
After Martin Luther did a set of far reaching Beatles covers that I thoroughly enjoyed (but the crowd may not have recognized), The exotic, ethnic, original Oakland audience milled about in full color, waiting for their hero…
Me’Shell had a quartet of funk geniuses, with drummer Deantoni Parks, guitarist Chris Bruce, and keyboardist Keefus Ciancia that all understood the requirements of Prince’s music.
The quartet had a perfect sense of the tone needed to deal with the exotic arrangements of Prince properly, and the eerie keyboard work (from an original MOOG synthesizer and some other keys) captured the spacey emotional techno tone of early 80’s Prince.
She began with Pop Life, and just hung every word out to delicious effect. Then she got into a thumping party groove and did Irresistible Bitch which sent me over the top. The audience wasn’t as familiar with that track, a one-off single from back in the day, but it is most definitely part of Prince’s legend.
Then Me’Shell began a light version of “I Wanna Be Your Lover” by just singing it, but you could tell the tone of the band was going to escalate, and when Me’Shell picked up her bass and brought the thump, she hit the most exquisitely erotic rock hard THUMP I’ve heard since Bootsy Collins came this way.
IT was clear from the third track that despite Me’shell’s affection for all of Prince’s many delights as a soul piercing songwriter, this show provided Me’Shell with more freedom to RIP throbbing funk riffs all night.
While there were some disruptions to get their sound right, there was nothing missing when they got cranking, and the band kept things just a silly millameter slower than the record, so the delicious grooves – sometimes overlooked by the shrill vocals and guitars of Prince’s most recognizeable songs – can just be soaked in in full intensity.
After an utterly throbbing version of Controversy, She said ‘now that I finished the standard issue, I’m going to cut loose’ She then did a warped version of Dirty Mind, turning it into a metal mash.
Her rendition of Annie Christian was brilliant, and at the end, she just casually quipped ‘Prince was more interesting before he found Jehovah” which caused a surprising amount of groans from the audience. Me’Shell was clearly surprised by the reaction, and tried to joke about it. I suspect she figured the Oakland crowd would be far more "post-Christian" in their sensibilities.
The new Prince generation of fans may have another perspective on the Purple One than those of us that experienced his music as it happened in the 80’s. Me’Shell clearly did, saying that she “Loved Prince” and that “he changed my life” which I think a lot of people share, but nobody and I mean nobody has been able to DO Prince properly in the past 30 years until Me’Shell did. Hands down.
Me'Shell was clearly one of the many folks that caught one of Prince's Oakland concerts in February, and got inspired. I was definitely one of them, and felt blessed to see one of our generation's greatest acts giving it up for Oaktown, for Larry Graham and for Sheila E, and the Bay Area. Me'Shell took it one step further.
From my vantage point as a P-Funker that appreciates Prince but always wondered what would happen if Prince’s music acquired some Thunder Thumbs type of bottom, how much Ultimate Phunk would be unleashed? Well, Me’Shell did EXACTLY THAT, and then some.
This funky generation is FINALLY doing its homework, studying the deep jams in all their intricacy and liquified attitudinal genius, and then blasting them out with a brand new tone. The Roots & John Legend did this with Soul last year. Folks is WAY beyond sampling riffs, they are digging deep. Much Respect to Me'Shell for showing the way.
Props to the folks at the New Parish for making this happen. Some days it is a blessing to be into The Funk, and to be in Oakland.
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