Granddad of funk Clinton proves a true soul survivor
GEORGE Clinton is a shambling teddybear of a man, with a beatific smile and scarlet dreadlocks that snake to his waist.
He's also 67, a fact that does little to inhibit his enthusiasm as he leads the P-Funk Orchestra, a free-wheeling sprawl of soul daddies and super-fly divas who look as if they've just strutted out of a Blaxploitation flick circa 1977.
Clinton can claim a unique place in pop's annals. The second most sampled artist in history (after James Brown), he paved the way for r'n'b and hip-hop (you'll hear him on Dr Dre, Public Enemy and Beastie Boys records). His creative high-point was in the '70s, at the helm of Funkadelic and Parliament. Mutations
P-Funk is an ever-mutating ensemble, with horn players, vocalists and drummers shuffling on and off stage and into and out of outlandish costumes.
Clinton himself is more band-leader than front-man; he doesn't appear until 20 minutes in and is happier egging on the (sell-out) crowd than making a musical contribution.
Eventually he takes the mic stand, rapping in a booming rasp that belies his grandfatherly demeanour (despite his red mohawk).
Clinton's guitarist, apparently naked apart from a nappy, lays down frisky melodies; the rhythm section conjures up a tumultuous clatter. By final curtain, the room is a heaving, perspiring mass. But Clinton seems to have barely broken into a sweat.
Like all great survivors, he's learned the only way to stay in the game is to plunge in, and trust in his talent and instinct to sustain you.
ED POWER
- George Clinton
