PARLIAMENT - UP FOR THE DOWN STROKE @ 50

 

Celebrating its golden jubilee at 50 years old is the sophomore album from George Clinton's Parliament, Up for the Down Stroke, which was released on July 3rd, 1974. While the band had released a debut LP in 1970, Osmium, classic Parliament really begins with this album, which was their first release on Neil Bogart's freshly minted Casablanca Records. Along with KISS, Parliament would help bring that label to unprecedented heights of success in the later half of the decade, with Parliament's massive stage show positioning them as the black music equivalent of their makeup masked heavy metal peers on that label.

The album's title track was released as a single and helped begin the group's rise to stardom, remaining one of the most iconic and recognizable tunes from the entire P-Funk discography. The album also proved to be a pivotal reunion with bass master, Bootsy Collins, who'd taken a two year hiatus away from the P-Funk collective prior to recording this album. His return to the fold would solidify his position in the group and he would remain an integral contributor throughout the band's entire residency with Casablanca. Parliament would run their career in tandem with Funkadelic, along with numerous other side projects, throughout the decade, building a massive P-funk network of performers and products.

FUNKADELIC - AMERICA EATS ITS YOUNG @ 50

 

Marking half a century in the cosmos today is the fourth studio album from Funkadelic, America Eats Its Young, which was released on May 22nd, 1972. A sprawling double album with a notable identity crisis, it nonetheless set the stage for the emergence of the wider P-Funk universe in all its glory.

By the time this album began to gestate, the Funkadelic collective were undergoing many changes. Firstly, the core personnel were shifting and new players were coming into the fold, many of whom would prove to be critical contributors throughout its future. These included the likes of Bootsy Collins, Garry Shider & Bernie Worrell. Stylistically, they were leaving behind the acid fueled psychedelic rock influences of their early albums and moving into a heavily Afro-centric embrace of soul, R&B and gospel. Not that they were losing their weirdness, far from it, but they were much more focused on the blackness of their culture going forward.

Conceptually, Clinton was looking to create a pointedly political album with the heavy cost of the Vietnam war looming largest over its landscapes. Clinton also continued to showcase his obsession with the Process Church of the Final Judgement, a pseudo-religious cult offshoot of Scientology which was operating in the US and UK at the time. Many found that element objectionable, but I find it fascinating as it puts the P-Funk collective into a “strange bedfellows” kinship with what Genesis P-Orridge and Psychic TV would do a decade later based on the very same influences. It’s a connection that didn’t reveal itself to me until recent years, but which makes so much sense now in terms of how both communities functioned and presented themselves.

The 1970s was an era of some of the greatest decadence in the realm of popular music & culture that has ever been seen and the double album was, in this age, an exemplar of that indulgence. America Eats Its Young certainly doesn’t shy away from those excesses. As such, it’s a relentlessly mixed bag with soaring highs and baffling detours that left fans and critics befuddled and, more often than not, dissatisfied. Even with the benefit of hindsight, many still consider this a low point for the P-Funksters, but personally I find that assessment short sighted. There are simply too many touchstones in this set which were directly necessary for the futures of these artists. Much of what was laid out here was critical in relaunching the Parliament imprint, which had faltered in the early 1970s, but dominated in the latter half of the decade. The DNA which made them essential is totally starting to bubble up in songs like Loose Booty and the instrumental masterpiece, A Joyful Process.

One of the albums most emotional highlights comes from Everybody’s Going to Make It This Time. As a gospel revival, it remains one of the most moving songs in the entire P-Funk canon. It’s a song that embodies the deep sorrows of the past with an elevating optimism for the future. The tension between those poles rends the most heartfelt resonance from the listener. I can’t listen to it without getting choked up. It’s dazzling moments of perfection like this which make America Eats Its Young an essential piece of the P-Funk puzzle and so perfectly illustrate the overall feel of the album as a bridge between the band’s impressive past and its brilliant future.

PARLIAMENT - THE CLONES OF DR. FUNKENSTEIN @ 45

 

July 20th marks the 45th anniversary of the release of Parliament’s fifth album (their fourth with Casablanca Records), The Clones of Dr. Funkenstein, which was issued this day in 1976.

The album is the 2nd in a series of releases which built out the “Funkenstein” mythology that was begun on the previous album, Mothership Connection, and would continue through the remainder of Parliament’s output up until 1980’s Trombipulation. These albums would lay out the epic tales of space funk and the battles of Starchild to bring the groove to the groove-less, thwarting the unfunky machinations of the dastardly Sir Nose'd D'Voidoffunk! They represent the P-Funk gang at the peak of their powers during the heyday of the ’70s, when massive funk bands roamed the land like great prehistoric beasts.

The album’s creative core consisted of George Clinton, Bootsy Collins, Bernie Worrell, Garry Shider & former James Brown horn man, Fred Wesley, handling the brass arrangements. Together, they fashioned some of the great funk albums of the era and the P-Funk axis. They were firing on all cylinders at this point and were benefiting from the financial support of their label, which sought to put the same kind of epic showmanship into them as had proved so successful with label mates KISS. You can see the influence in terms of the elaborate costuming and makeup on the cover and the massive stage show they’d been touring with, complete with an actual spaceship for George Clinton to emerge from during the intro to their sets. These were the glory days of the record industry when money seemed to be no object and the sky was literally the limit!

INFLUENTIAL ALBUM - PARLIAMENT, TEAR THE ROOF OFF

Though I'd heard the odd track here and there and knew some standouts that I'd always perk up to when they hit the speakers, it wasn't until sometime in the early 1990s when I came across a 2nd hand copy of Parliament's "Tear the Roof Off" best of compilation that the floodgates of P-Funk fandom fully opened and gushed forth the groove into my musical life.  As I say, Clinton & crew had been on my radar for some time and I even had a couple of pieces of vinyl in my stash, but this compilation managed to put the scope of what they were doing out there for me to appreciate in some breadth, enough for me to eventually start assimilating anything to my collection that had the "P-F" stamp of approval. 

What fascinated me the more I started to dig into the Clinton canon was the mythology he'd built into his works.  It wasn't just a bunch of music to dance to.  It was stories and fables and allegories and there were messages of struggle and triumph and spirit overcoming oppression.  And it was all laid atop some of the fiercest grooves in the kingdom of funk.  Back in the 1970s, it was sort of a magical time for this genre as massive ensembles roamed the touring landscape, bringing the beat to the masses.  These groups were as majestic as dinosaurs and they've become just as extinct in the world of DJs and digitization.  None were more spectacular than Parliament/Funkadelic, The P-Funk All-Stars.  This amorphous array of aliens would descend from the heavens to impart their syncopated sermons of sublime funkitude. 

What was happening during the peak of their activities in the 1970s and 1980s was totally inspiring in that Clinton had assembled this free-wheeling circus of virtuoso musicians and dazzling performers who could reconfigure themselves like Transformers from one musical incarnation to another.  One minute they were Parliament, then they were Funkadelic, next a fragment would break off and become Parlet or The Brides of Funkenstein or someone would shoot out into orbit for a solo like the incomparable Bootsy Collins.  It wasn't fixed, it was trans-dimensional and transcendental.  This kind of flexibility would be a key guiding principal in several projects I'd undertake over the years. 

I wish I could point out one of their original albums for this, but I just can't narrow it down when there are so many great ones and they all deserve some level of acknowledgement, which is why I felt this "greatest hits" package would be appropriate as an umbrella to cover them all.  As the song says, "I like my funk uncut" and you ain't gonna find none more pure than the "P".

DROP THE BASS - MY FAVORITE PLAYERS

I was going to do a “Top 10” list of my favorite bass players, but I came up with 11 names, so in the spirit of Nigel Tufnel, I’m going that extra digit for sheer intensity’s sake!  These are all people who have made me appreciate the instrument in a special way and whom I personally feel have contributed something unique to the way the instrument is used.  The order is somewhat arbitrary, though some names do have more significance to me than others and I’ll make note of that as I go along and talk about each. 

The bass guitar, in my mind, was initially a rather mysterious presence and lacked the glitz and glamour of its more easily identifiable six stringed cousins.  When I first started seriously listening to music, I didn’t quite comprehend what it was, but gradually, I discovered bands and players who brought my attention to it and made me realize that the bass had a special power all its own. This is something which has become more and more apparent as “bass music” (funk, dub, drum & bass, downtempo, dub-step, etc) has gained prominence since the 1970s. 

It was really funk and reggae music which first gave the instrument a place at the front of the pack, making it a tool for driving song structures from the ground up.  Where it was traditionally used as merely a means to fill out the lower end of the frequency range and give an arrangement a sense of presence, it was also neglected for a long time because most people didn’t listen to music on stereo systems capable of reproducing those frequencies.  It was only in the late 1960s when “high fidelity” sound systems became more ubiquitous that you start to hear producers going for full stereo mixes as a default instead of focusing on radio friendly mono productions.  FM radio also made it possible to broadcast in hi-fi and the album came into its own as an art form rather than as a medium for hosting a hit single and a bunch of filler tracks.  When all these factors came together, you started to hear the instrument take on a new roll as a critical component rather than merely a sonic spectrum filler. 

With that in mind, let’s get into some specific individuals who are responsible for bringing the bass into prominence.  

Carol Kaye

I’ll begin with this lady though my appreciation of her has only surfaced in recent years with the release of the documentary film, The Wrecking Crew.  Though I’m old enough to have grown up with many of the 1960s hits she played on, I had no idea who the musicians on so many of those records were until seeing this film.  It was a true moment of revelation to witness this unmasking of these incredibly talented and significant music makers.  Finding out she was responsible for the bass line in Sony & Cher’s hit, The Beat Goes On, blew my mind as it was one of the very first songs I can recall where a bass line was integral to the essence of the song.  She may not have a writing credit for it, but that hook is EVERYTHING to me when I remember it.  And then there’s that descending step bass at the beginning of Glen Campbell’s Wichita Lineman, another example of the instrument being used to provide an immediately recognizable musical motif, one which identifies the song the instant it saunters out of the speakers.  Those are only a couple of examples in a career spanning decades and hundreds, if not thousands, of recordings.

John Deacon

As a teen in 1977, Queen was the first band I got into in a BIG way.  They were the first group I delved into in order to pick apart what they were doing and try to figure out what was going on structurally.  Before them, I’d listen to music and only hear a totality of sound and not be able to identify individual elements and instruments.  With Queen, however, I was so fascinated by what they were creating, the palette of sounds they were using and the variety of styles they encompassed, that I was compelled to analyze it and decipher what was the source of each sound.  Though there was more than enough to digest with the voices and Brian May’s guitar parts, John’s bass playing still managed to come through and distinguish itself.  Deacon was the quintessential rock bass player in many regards, often seeming stoic and quiet, but there was a lot going on under the surface.  He impressed me to such an extent that I decided to switch instruments I was learning at the time.  I had taken up guitar lessons that year and, after getting into Queen, I felt driven to bug my parents to buy me a cheap Fender bass copy (as close to the one John played as possible) and start taking lessons on that instead.  John proved himself again and again as a song writer and, on Under Pressure and Another One Bites the Dusk, he showed precisely how a bass line could become a hook that could sell a million copes of a record.

Jah Wobble

John Wardle, Christened “Jah Wobble” by a drunk, slurring Sid Vicious, was a buddy of Johnny Rotten’s during the Sex Pistols days.  He was one of the "gang of Johns", which included John Beverly (Sid), Johnny Rotten and a fellow named John Gray.  He was a rough and tumble punk with a reputation for putting the booze back.  When the Sex Pistols fell apart, Rotten became Lydon again and recruited Wobble, who had no real experience, to play bass in his new band.  It was a stroke of luck and possibly divine intervention that put the bass guitar in this man’s hands because it became an instant appendage for him and he took to it like the proverbial duck to water.  Right out of the gate, he guided the instrument into a new zone of significance in Public Image Ltd.  This is apparent from the first notes of the first single from their “First Issue” debut LP.  That bass line kicks off the song, Public Image, and announces the arrival of the band with a thrust and vigor that left no question as to their intent.  From there, Wobble would provide the foundations of their sound throughout two seminal LPs, the second of which, Metal Box, cementing his position in music history as a true innovator.  Borrowing from reggae and “Krautrock” and combining the two elements into a fusion of low frequency omnipotence, Wobble set the controls for the heart of the sub and never looked back.  Since leaving PiL, he’s secured himself as the ever prolific and consistent producer of quality bass music spanning over 4 decades now.  His influence on my own creative direction has been immeasurable and unparalleled.

Mick Karn

Japan first came to my attention in early 1980 with the purchase of their 3rd album, Quiet Life.  Beneath all the makeup and pretty clothes, they turned out to be a rather talented collective of self taught musicians and Mick Karn easily stood out with his slippery fretless bass work.  The way it slid around underneath Steve Jansen’s syncopated percussion, such as on songs like The Art of Parties, created a a sinuous, fluid motion that gave the foundations of the music a kind of elasticity that I’d never heard in other bands.  Karn’s solo work continued to explore the range of his instrument until his tragic, untimely death in 2011.

Holger Czukay

Far more than simply a bass player, Czukay nevertheless established a distinctive presence for the instrument in CAN and in his solo works.  The primal, muted thud of his playing technique meshed with Jaki Liebezeit’s drums in a way that fused them into a single entity, accenting the bottom end of the rhythm section.  It was an understated approach, but hid a powerful propellant which was crucial to the interplay of grooves that was CAN’s hallmark in the best of their songs such as Halleluhwah.  You can see this in some of the live footage of their performances, where Holger’s bass and Jaki’s drums push the energy levels of the music and build up tension as they strain against each other while remaining seamless. 

Tina Weymouth

Talking Heads stood out from the pack of CBGBs bands for all sorts of reasons, not the least of which was their petite little powerhouse of a bass player.  At a time when rock music was largely dominated by men, she was a precious anomaly - this diminutive mouse of a girl busting out the funkiest grooves on that beast of an instrument.  Her most notable moment with it came with the infectious dance hit from her side project, Tom Tom Club, and their funk masterpiece, Genius of Love.  Here was a bass line that would get sampled and recycled again and again, for generations of hip-hop music fans.  On Talking Heads transcendental afro-fuck classic, Remain In Light, her playing took on dimensions heretofore unheard in alternative rock.  

Peter Hook

Joy Division took the sound of the bass in a completely different direction than most other bands, particularly within the post punk scene.  Developed primarily for practical reasons, so that it could be heard more clearly on stage, Peter Hook decided to emphasize the top end frequencies of the instrument and inject a melodic, riff-centric approach that became Joy Divisions calling card.  His riff for She’s Lost Control is a perfect example of this technique being used to stamp a song with an unmistakable trademark, something that is recognizable within seconds of it sounding out.  

Bootsy Collins

William Earl Collins may have got his big break with James Brown, but he was never suited to Brown’s micromanaging, regimented band leading style.  Thankfully, George Clinton unharnessed Willy’s wings and let him fly.  "Bootsy" was born in Clinton’s open format freak-fest within the P-Funk family and soon brought the gospel of “the one” to the dance floors of the era with unstoppable riffs like on Mothership Connection.  R&B, soul and, ultimately, funk music in the late 1960s and throughout the 1970s truly ushered in the age of bass as it was used as a central structural element in arrangements for the first time.  A funky bass line could send a crowd into a frenzy and no one was funkier and fresher than Bootsy, baby!

Robbie Shakespeare

Coming close on the heels of funk, reggae music also recognized the potential of the bass guitar and, in the heat of the Jamaican sun, slow cooked that smooth, deep resonance which would become a hallmark of psychedelic bass music for decades to come.  That deep throb was more than just a backup for the other instruments.  It drove the melody in a way that was completely new in music.  Within that scene, Robbie Shakespeare became one of it’s most accomplished and prolific practitioners, playing on some of the greatest tracks to come from the island such as Bunny Wailer's Blackheart Man. 

Jean-Jacques Burnel

The Stranglers were initially swept up in the surge of “punk” bands in the UK in 1977.  Though they were labelled as “punk”, they were actually a bit too old and accomplished as musicians to truly merit the label.  Frankly, they outclassed the average punk band by a few miles and part of the reason for that was the distinctive snarling bass of “JJ”, Jean-Jacques Burnel.  JJ had stumbled on his sound by accident while trying to work with a blown speaker cabinet.  Listen to Peaches and you can hear that stamp of authenticity in the roar that comes from his instrument. That raunchy buzz drove the band through their first three albums before he decided to tone it down a bit before it became too much of a limitation on his style.  But even with a cleaner, more subtle approach, JJ’s playing retained it’s distinction and swagger.

Bill Laswell

The New York “No Wave” scene is where I first encountered Bill Laswell as part of the group, Material.  It was their Temporary Music EPs which initially caught my ear, especially tracks like Reduction.  His frequent use of a strange filter effect, which gave his bass a kind of “talking” auto-wah sound, became a signature and point of reference when trying to identify him in any mix. Soon, I started to see Laswell’s name crop up over and over again in one production after another.  Eventually, it was clear that this man had his hand in an endless number of pies in the alternative scene and this activity only grew exponentially throughout the 1990s and into the new millennium.  Work with artists as diverse as Public Image Ltd and Yoko Ono and innumerable solo and side projects established a landscape of music driven by a love of atmosphere and low frequencies.  It’s impossible to comprehend the full scope of Bill’s work over the years because he’s simply done too much to be able to fully capture it all.  Stylistically, he’s traversed the realms of jazz, funk, dub, reggae, folk, techno, ambient, metal and nearly every other contemporary genre he could find his way into.

There are certainly other names I could and should check here, but I’ll let you, dear reader, come up with those on your own.  I’m sure I’ve missed one or two of your personal favorites, but I had to draw the line somewhere and these were the names that came to my mind the most readily. Bass guitar has dominated my musical explorations now for almost half a century and it still has the seductive allure to get my heart beating, my head bobbing, my toe tapping and my soul soaring.